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The immovable features, rigid muscles and wild expression of the eye- 
balls, however, soon told him the melancholy truth The man was dead. 


—The Sea Lions. 


War in KS 


OF 


J. FENIMORE COOPER 


THE SEA LIONS. 
AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


THE WATER WITCH. 


ILLUSTRATED WITH WOOD-ENGRAVINGS. 


COMPLETE IN TEN VOLUMES. 


VOLUME FOUR. 


New YorK: 
ue COLL ee Re PUBLISHER. 
: 1892. 


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THE SEA LIONS. 


PREFACKH. 


If anything connected with the hardness 
of the human heart could surprise us, it 
surely would be the indifference with which 
men liveon, engrossed by their worldly ob- 
jects, amid the sublime natural phenomena 
that so eloquently and unceasingly speak 
to their imaginations, affections, and judg- 
ments. So completely is the existence of 
the individual concentrated in self, and so 
regardless does he get to be of all without 
that contracted circle, that it does not 
probably happen to one man in ten that 

= his thoughts are drawn aside from this in- 
= tense study of his own immediate wants, 
* wishes, and plans, even once in the twenty- 
> four hours, to contemplate the majesty, 
“mercy, truth, and justice of the Divine 
© Being that has set him, as an atom, amid 
~ the myriads of the hosts of heaven and 
~ earth. 

The physical marvels of the universe pro- 
duce little more reflection than the pro- 
foundest moral truths. A million of eyes 
shall pass over the firmament on a cloud- 
less night, and not a hundred minds shall 
‘be filled with a proper sense of the power 
of the dread Being that created all that is 
there—not a hundred hearts glow with the 
adoration that such an appeal to the senses 
and understanding ought naturally to pro- 
duce. This indifference, in a great meas- 

ure, comes of familiarity; the things that 
we so constantly have before us becoming 
as a part of the air we breathe, and as 
little regarded. 

One of the consequences of this dispo- 
sition to disregard the Almighty Hand, as 
it is so plainly visible in all around us, is 
that of substituting our own powers in its 


1949057 


stead. In this period of the world, in en- 
lightened countries, and in the absence of 
direct idoltary, few men are so hardy as 
to deny the existence and might of a Su- 
preme Being ; but, this fact admitted, how 
few really feel that profound reverence for 
Him that the nature of our relations justly 
demands! It is the want of a due sense. 
of humility, and a sad misconception of 
what we are, and for what we are created, 
that misleads us in the due estimate of our 
own insignificance, as compared with the 
majesty of God. 

Very few men attain enough of human 
knowledge to be fully aware how much 
remains to be learned, and of that which 
they never can hope to acquire. We hear 
a great deal of god-like minds, and of the 
far-reaching faculties we possess; and it 
may all be worthy of our eulogiums, until 
we compare ourselves in these, as in other 
particulars, with Him who produced them. 
Then, indeed, the utter insignificance of 
our means becomes too apparent to admit 
of acavil. We know that we are born, 
and that we die; science has been able to 
grapple with all the phenomena of these 
two great physical facts, with the excep- 
tion of the most material of all—those 
which should tell us what is life, and what 
is death. Something that we cannot com- 
prehend lies at the root of, every distinct 
division of natural phenomena. Thus far 
shalt thou go and no farther, seems to be 
imprinted on every great fact of creation. 
There is a point attained in eachand all of 
our acquisitions, where a mystery that no 
human mind can sean takes the place of 
demonstration and conjecture. This point 
may lie more remote with some intellects 
than with others; but it exists for all, 
arrests the inductions of all, conceals all. 


(3) 


4 WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


We are aware that the more learned 
among: those who, disbelieve in the divinity 
of Christ. suppose themselves to be sus- 
tained\\by written authority, contending 
for errors of translation, mistakes and 
misapprehensions in the ancient texts. 
Nevertheless, we are inclined to think 
that nine-tenths of those who refuse the 
old and accept the new opinion, do so for 
a motive no better than a disinclination to 
believe that which they cannot compre- 
hend. This pride of reason is one of the 
most insinuating of our foibles, and is to 
be watched as a most potent enemy. 

How completely and _ philosophically 
does the venerable Christian creed em- 
brace and modify all these workings of the 
heart! We say philosophically, for it 
were not possible for mind to give a juster 
analysis of the whole subject than St. 
Paul’s most comprehensive but brief defi- 
nition of Faith. It is this Faith which 
forms the mighty feature of the church 
on earth. It equalizes capacities, condi- 
tions, means, and ends, holding out the 
same encouragement and hope to the 
least, as to the most gifted of the race; 
counting gifts in their ordinary and more 
secular points of view. 

It is when health, or the usual means of 
success abandon us, that we are made to 
feel how totally we are insufficient for the 
achievement of even our own purposes, 
much less to qualify us to reason on the 
deep mysteries that conceal the beginning 
and the end. It has often been said that 
the most successful leaders of their fellow- 
men have had the clearest views of their 
own insufficiency to attain their own ob- 
jects. If Napoleon ever said, as has been 
attributed to him, ‘‘ Je propose et je dis- 
pose,”’ it must have been in one of those 
fleeting moments in which success blinded 
him to the fact of his own insufficiency. 
No man had a deeper reliance on fortune, 
cast the result of great events on the 
decrees of fate, or more anxiously watched 
the rising and setting of what he called 
his ‘“‘star.’? This was a faith that could 
lead to no good; but it clearly denoted 
how far the boldest designs, the most 
ample means, and the most vaulting am- 
bition, fall short of giving that sublime 


consciousness of power and its fruits that 
distinguish the reign of Omnipotence. 

In this book the design has been to por- 
tray man ona novel field of action, and to 
exhibit his dependence on the hand that 
does not suffer a sparrow to fall unheeded. 
The recent attempts of science, which em= 
ployed the seamen of the four greatest 
maritime states of Christendom, made 
discoveries that have rendered the polar 
circles much more familiar to this age 
than to any that has preceded it, so far 
as existing records show. We say “ exist- 
ing records ;’’ for there is much reason 
for believing that the ancients had a 
knowledge of our hemisphere, though less 
for supposing that they ever braved*the 
dangers of the high latitudes. Many are, 
just at this moment, much disposed to 
believe that ‘‘Ophir’’? was on this conti- 
nent; though for a reason no better than 
the circumstance of the recent discoveries 
of much gold. Such savans should re- 
member that ‘‘peacocks’’ came from 
ancient Ophir. If this be in truth that 
land, the adventurers of Israel caused it 
to be denuded of that bird of beautiful 
plumage. | 

Such names as those of Parry, Sabine, 
Ross, Franklin, Wilkes, Hudson, Ring- 
gold, etc., etc., with those of divers gal- 
lant Frenchmen and Russians, command 
our most profound respect; for no battles 
or victories can redound mere to the credit 
of seamen than the dangers they all en- 
countered, and the conquests they have all 
achieved. One of those named, a resolute 
and experienced seaman, it is thought 
must, at this moment, be locked in the 
frosts of the Arctic circle, after having 
passed half a life in the endeavor to push 
his discoveries into those remote and 
frozen regions. He bears the name of the 
most distinguished of the philosophers of 
this country ; and nature has stamped on 
his features—by one of those secret laws 
which just as much baffle our means of 
comprehension, as the greatest of all our 
mysteries, the incarnation of the Son of 
God—a resemblance that, of itself, would 
go to show that they are of the same race. 
Anyone who has ever seen this imprisoned 
navigator, and who is familiar with the 


THE 


countenances of the men of the same name 
who are to be found in numbers amongst 
ourselves, must be struck with a likeness 
that lies as much beyond the grasp of 
that reason of which we are so proud, as 
the sublimest facts taught by induction, 
Science, or revelation. Parties are, at 
this moment, out in search of him and his 
followers; and it is to be hoped that the 
Providence which has so singularly attem- 
pered the different circles and zones of our 
globe, placing this under a burning sun, 
and that beneath enduring frosts, will 
have included in its divine forethought a 
sufficient care for these bold wanderers to 
restore them, unharmed, to their friends 
and country. In a contrary event, their 
names must be transmitted to posterity as 
the victims to a laudable desire to enlarge 
the circle of human knowledge, and with 
it, we trust, to increase the glory due to 


God. 


& 


—_—_—— 


CHAPTER I. 


—‘‘ When that’s gone, 
He shall drink naught but brine.” 
—TEMPEST. 


WHILE there is less of that high polish 
in America that is obtained by long inter- 
course with the great world than is to 
be found in nearly every European coun- 
try, there is much less positive rusticity 
also. There, the extremes of society are 
widely separated, repelling rather than 
attracting each other; while among our. 
Selves, the tendency is to gravitate tow- 
ard a common center. Thus it is, that 
all things in America become subject to a 
mean law that is productive of a medioc- 
rity which is probably much above the 
average of that of most nations ; possibly 
of all, England excepted; but which is 
only a mediocrity after all. In this way, 
excellence in nothing is justly appreciated, 
nor is it often recognized ; and the suf- 
frages of the nation are pretty uniformly 
bestowed on qualities of a secondary class. 
Numbers have sway, and it is as im- 
possible to resist them in deciding on 
merit as it is to deny their power in the 
ballot-boxes; time alone, with its great 
curative influence, supplying the remedy 


SHA LIONS. 5 


that is to restore the public mind to a 
healthful state, and giye equally to the 
pretender and to him who/ is: worthy’ of 
renown his proper place in the pages ; of 
history. AL fy 
The activity_of American life, the rapid- 
ity and cheapness of intercourse, and the 
migratory habits both have induced, leave 
little of rusticity and local character in 
any particular sections of the country. 
Distinctions, that an acute observer may 
detect, do certainly exist between the 
HKastern and the Western man, between 
the Northerner and the Southerner, the 
Yankee and Middle States’ man; the 
Bostonian, Manhattanese, and Philadel- 
phian; the Tuckahoe and the Cracker ; 
the Buckeye or Wolverine, and the Jersey 
Blue. Nevertheless, the world cannot 
probably produce another instance of 9 
people who are derived from so many 
different races, and who occupy so large 
an extent of country, who are so homo- 
geneous in appearance, characters, and 
opinions. There is no question that the 
institutions have had a material influ- 
ence in producing this uniformity, while 
they have unquestionably lowered the 
standard to which opinion is submitted, 
by referring the decisions to the many, in- 
stead of making the appeal to the few, as 
is elsewhere done. Still, the direction is 
onward, and though it may take time to 
carve on the social column of America that 
graceful and ornamental capital which it 
forms the just boast of Kurope to possess, 
when the task shall be achieved, the work 
will stand on a base so broad as to secure 
its upright attitude for ages. 
Notwithstanding the general character 
of identity and homogeneity that so 
strongly marks the picture of American 
society, exceptions are to be met with, in 
particular districts, that are not only dis- 
tinct and incontrovertible, but which are 
so peculiar as to be worthy of more than 
a passing remark in our delineations of 
national customs. Our present purpose 
leads us into one of these secluded dis- 
tricts, and it may be well to commence 
the narrative of certain deeply interesting 
incidents that it is our intention to at- 
tempt to portray, by first referring to the 


6 WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


place and people where and from whom 
the principal actors in our legend had 
their originy 
_ Every one at all familar with the map 
‘ \of America knows the position and gene- 
ral form of the two islands that shelter 
the well-known harbor of the great em- 
porium of the commerce of the country. 
These islands obtained their names from 
the Dutch, who called them Nassau and 
Staten; but the English, with little re- 
spect for the ancient house whence the 
first of these appellations is derived, and 
consulting only the homely taste which 
leads them to a practical rather than to 
a poetical nomenclature in all things, 
have since virtually dropped the name of 
Nassau, altogether substituting that of 
Long Island in its stead. 
Long Island, or the island of Nassau, 
extends from the mouth of the Hudson to 
the eastern line of Connecticut; forming 
a sort of sea-wall to protect the whole 
coast of the latter little territory against 
the waves of the broad Atlantic. Three 
of the oldest New York counties, as their 
names would imply, Kings, Queens, and 
Suffolk, are on this island. Kings was 
originally peopled by the Dutch, and still 
possesses aS many names derived from 
Holland as from England, if its towns, 
which are of recent origin, be taken from 
the account. Queensis more of a mixture, 
having been early invaded and occupied 
by adventurers from the other side of the 
Sound ; but Suffolk, which contains nearly, 
if not quite, two-thirds of the surface of 
the whole island, is and ever has been in 
possession of a people derived originally 
from the Puritans of New England. Of 
these three counties, Kings is much the 
smallest, though, next to New York itself, 
the most populous county in the State; a 
circumstance that is owing to the fact that 
two suburban offsets of the great empo- 
rium, Brooklyn and Williamsburg, hap- 
pen to stand within its limits, on the 
waters of what is improperly called the 
East River; an arm of the sea that has 
obtained this appellation in contradistinc- 
tion to the Hudson, which, as all Manhat- 
tanese well know, is as often called the 
North River as by its proper name. In 


consequence of these two towns, or sub- 
urbs of New York, one of which contains 
nearly a hundred thousand souls, while 
the other must be drawing on toward 
twenty thousand, Kings County has lost 
all it ever had of peculiar or local char- 
acter. Thesame is true of Queens, though 
in a diminished degree; but Suffolk re- 
mains Suffolk still, and it is with Suffolk 
alone that our present legend requires us 
to deal. Of Suffolk, then, we propose to 
say a few words by way of preparatory 
explanation. 

Although it has actually more sea-coast 
than all the rest of New York united, Suf- 
folk has but one seaport that is ever men- 
tioned beyond the limits of the county 
itself. Nor is this port one of general 
commerce, its shipping being principally 
employed in the hardy and manly occupa- 
tion of whaling. As a whaling town, Sag 
Harbor is the third or fourth port in the 
country, and maintains something like 
that rank in importance. A whaling 
haven is nothing without a whaling com- 
munity. Without the last it is almost 
hopeless to look for success. New York 
can, and has often fitted whalers for sea, 
having sought officers in the regular 
whaling ports; but it has been seldom 
that the enterprises have been rewarded — 
with such returns as to induce a second 
voyage by the same parties. 

It is as indispensable that a whaler 
should possess a certain esprit de corps, 
as that a regiment, or a ship of war, 
should be animated by its proper spirit. 
In the whaling communities, this spirit 
exists to an extent and in a degree that is 
wonderful, when one remembers the great 
expansion of this particular branch of 
trade within the last five-and-twenty 
years. It may be alittle lessentd of late, 
but at the time of which we are writing, 
or about the year 1820, there was scarcely 
an individual who followed this particular 
calling out of the port of Sag Harbor, 
whose general standing on board ship was 
not as well known to all the women and 
girls of the place as it was to -his ship- 
mates. Success in taking the whale was 
a thing that made itself felt in every fiber 
of the prosperity of the town; and it was 


> a THE 


just as natural that the single-minded 
population of that part of Suffolk should 
regard the bold and skillful harpooner or 
lancer with favor, as it is for the belle at 
a watering-place to bestow her smiles on 
one of the young heroes of Contreras or 
Cherubusco. His peculiar merit, whether 
with the oar, lance or harpoon, is bruited 
about, as well as the number of whales he 
may have succeeded in “‘ making fast to,”’ 
or those which he caused to “spout 
blood.”’ Itis true that the great exten- 
sion of the trade within the last twenty 
years, by drawing so many from a dis- 
tance into its pursuits, has in a degree 
lessened this local interest and local 
knowledge of character ; but at the time 
of which we are about to write both were 
at their height, and Nantucket itself had 
not more of this “ intelligence office ’’ pro- 
pensity, or more of the true whaling esprit 
de corps, than were to be found in the 
district of country that surrounded Sag 

Harbor. 

Lond Island forks at its eastern end, 
and may be said to have two extremities. 
One of these, which is much the shortest 
of the two legs thus formed, goes by the 
name of Oyster Pond Point; while the 
other, that stretches much farther in the 
direction of. Block Island, is the well- 
known cape called Montauk. Within the 
fork lies Shelter Island, so named from 
the snug berth it occupies. Between Shel- 
ter Island and the longest or southern 
prong of the fork are the waters which 
compose the haven of Sag Harbor—an 
estuary of some extent; while a narrow 
but deep arm of the sea separates this 
island from the northern prong, that ter- 
minates at Oyster Pond. 

The name of Oyster Pond Point was 
formerly applied to a long, low, fertile, 
and pleasant reach of land that extended 
several miles from the point itself, west- 
ward, toward the spot where the two 
prongs of the fork united. It was not 
easy, during the first quarter of the pres- 
ent century, to find a more secluded spot 
on the whole island than Oyster Pond. 
Recent enterprises have since converted it 
into the terminus of a railroad; and Green 


Port, once called Sterling, is a name well | 


SHA LIONS. is 


known to travelers between New York 
and Boston; but in the earlier part of the 
present beviure it seemed just as likely 
that the Santa Casa of Loretta should 
take a new flight and descend on the point; 
as that the improvement that has actually 
been made should in truth occur at that 
out-of-the-way place. It required, indeed, 
the keen eye of a railroad projector to 
bring this spot in connection with any- 
thing ; nor could it be done without having 
recourse to the water by which it is almost 
surrounded. Using the last, it is true, 
means have been found to place it in a 
line between two of the great marts of the 
country, and thus to put an end to all its 
seclusion, its simplicity, its peculiarities, 
and we had almost said, its happiness. 

It is to us ever a painful sight to see the 
rustic virtues rudely thrown aside by the 
intrusion of what are termed improve- 
ments. <A railroad is certainly a capital 
invention for the traveler, but it may be 
questioned if it is of any other benefit than 
that of pecuniary convenience to the places 
through which it passes. How many de- 
lightful hamlets, pleasant villages, and 
even tranquil country towns, are losing 
their primitive characters for simplicity 
and contentment by the passage of these 
fiery trains, that drag after them a sort 
of bastard elegance, a pretension that is 
destructive of peace of mind, and an 
uneasy desire in all who dwell by the 
wayside to pry into the mysteries of the 
whole length and breadth of the region it 
traverses ! 

We are writing of the year of our Lord 
one thousand eight hundred and nineteen. 
In that day Oyster Pond was, in one of 
the best acceptations of the word, a rural 
district. It is true that its inhabitants 
were aceustomed to the water, and to the 
sight of vessels, from the two-decker to 
the little shabby-looking craft that 
brought ashes from town to meliorate the 
sandy lands of Suffolk. Only five years 
before an English squadron had lain in 
Gardiner’s Bay, here pronounced “‘ Gar’- 
ners,’’ watching the Race, or eastern out- 
let of the Sound, with a view to cut off the 
trade and annoy their enemy. That game 
is up forever. No hostile squadron, En- 


Ai 


8 WORKS 


glish, French, Dutch, or all united, will 
ever again blockade an American port for 
any serious length of time —the young 
Hercules: passing too rapidly from the 
.gristle into the bone any ionger to suffer 
antics of this nature to ve played in front 
of his cradle. But such was not his con- 
dition in the war of 1812, and the good 
people of Oyster Pond had become familiar 
with the checkered sides of two-deck 
ships, and the venerable and beautiful en- 
sign of Old England, as it floated above 
them. 

Nor was it only by these distant views, 
and by means of hostilities, that the good 
folk of Oyster Pond were acquainted with 
vessels. New York is necessary to all on 
the coast, both as a market and as a place 
to procure supplies; and every creek, or 
inlet, or basin, of any sort, within a hun- 
dred leagues of it, is sure to possess one 
or more craft that ply between the favorite 
haven and the particular spot in question. 
Thus was it with Oyster Pond. There is 
scarce a better harbor on the whole Ameri- 
can coast than that which the narrow arm 
of the sea that divides the point from 
Shelter Island presents; and even in the 

‘simple times of which we are writing 
Sterling had its two or three coasters, 
such as they were. But the true maritime 
character of Oyster Pond, as well as that 
of all Suffolk, was derived from the whal- 
ers, and its proper nucleus was across the 
estuary, at Sag Harbor. Thither the 
youths of the whole region resorted for 
employment, and to advance their fort- 
unes, and generally with such success as 
is apt to attend enterprise, industry, and 
daring, when exercised with energy in a 
pursuit of moderate gains. None became 
rich in the strict signification of the term, 
though a few got to be in reasonably 
affluent circumstances ; many were placed 
altogether at their ease, and more were 
made humbly comfortable. A farm in 
America is well enough for the foundation 
of family support, but it rarely suffices 
for all the growing wants of these days of 
indulgence, and of a desire to enjoy so 
much of that which was formerly left to 
the undisputed possession of the unques- 
tionably rich. A farm, with a few huno- 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


dreds per annum derived from other 
sources, makes a good base of comfort ; 
and if the hundreds are converted into 
thousands, your farmer or agriculturist 
becomes a man not only at his ease, but a 
proprietor of some importance. The farms 
on Oyster Pond were neither very ex- 
tensive, nor had they owners of large in- 
comes to support them, on the contrary, 
most of them were made to support their 
owners; a thing that is possible, even in 
America, with industry, frugality, and 
judgment. In order, however, that the 
names of places we may have occasion to 
use shall be understood, it may be well to 
be a little more particular in our pre- 
liminary explanation. 

The reader knows that we are now writ- 
ing of Suffolk County, Long Island, New 
York. He also knows that our opening 
scene is to be on the shorter, or most 
northern, of the two prongs of that fork 
which divides the eastern end of this 
island, giving it what are properly two 
capes. The smallest territorial division 
that is known to the laws of New York, 
in rural districts, is the ‘‘ township,”’ as it 
is.called. These townships are usually 
larger than the English parish, corre- 
sponding more properly with the French 
canton. They vary, however, greatly in 
size, Some containing as much as a hun- 
dred square miles, which is the largest 
size, while others do not contain more 
than a tenth of that surface. 

The township in which the northern 
prong, or point of Long Island, lies, is 
named Southold, and includes not only all 
of the long, low, narrow land that then 
went by the common names of Oyster 
Pond, Sterling, etc., but several islands 
also which stretch off in the Sound, as 
well as a broad piece of territory near 
Riverhead. Oyster Pond, which is the 
portion of the township that lies on the 
‘‘point,’”’ is, or was—for we write of a 
remote period in the galloping history of 
the State—only a part of Southold, and 
probably was not then a name known in 
the laws at all. 

We have a wish, also, that this name 
should be pronounced properly. It is not 
called Oyster Pond, as the uninitiated 


THH SHA LIONS. 9 


would be very apt to get it, but Oyster 
Pund, the last word having a sound sim- 
ilar to that of the cockney’s ‘‘ pound ”’ in 
his “‘two pound two.”’ This discrepancy 
between the spelling and the pronuncia- 
tion of proper names is agreeable to us, 
for it shows that a people are not put in 
leading-strings by pedagogues, and that 
they make use of their own in their own 
way. We remember how great was our 
satisfaction once, on entering Holmes’ 


Hole, a well-known bay in this very vicin- 


ity, in our youth, to hear a boatman call 
the port ‘‘Hum’ses Hull.’”’ It is getting to 
be so rare to meet with an American, be- 
low the higher classes, who will consent 
to cast this species of veil before his school- 
day acquisitions, that we acknowledge it 
gives us pleasure to hear such good, 
homely, old-fashioned English as ‘‘ Gar’- 
ner’s Island,’’ ‘‘Hum/’ses Hull,’’ and 
“Oyster Pund.’’ 

This plainness of speech was not the 
only proof of the simplicity of former days 
that was to be found in Suffolk, in the 
first quarter of the century. The eastern 
end of Long Island lies so much out of the 
track of the rest of the world, that even the 
new railroad cannot make much impression 
on its inhabitants, who get their pigs and 
poultry, butter and eggs, a little earlier to 
market than in the days of the stage- 
wagons, it is true, but they fortunately, 
as yet, bring little back except it be 
the dross that sets everything in motion, 
whether it be by rail, or through . the 
sands, in the former toilsome mode. 

The season, at the precise moment when 
we desire to take the reader with us to 
Oyster Pond, was in the delightful month 
of September, when the earlier promises 
of the year are fast maturing into per- 
formance. Although Suffolk, as a whole, 
can scarcely be deemed a_ productive 
county, being generally of a thin, light 
soil, and still covered with a growth of 
small wood, it possesses, nevertheless, 
spots of exceeding fertility. A consider- 
able portion of the northern prong of the 
fork has this latter character, and Oyster 
Pond is a sort of a garden compared with 
much of the sterility that prevails around 
it. Plain but respectable dwellings, with 


numerous out-buildings, orchards, and 
fruit-trees, fences carefully preserved, a 
painstaking tillage, good roads, and here 
and there a ‘‘meeting-house,’’ gave the 
fork an air of rural and moral beauty 
that, aided by the water by which it was 
so nearly surrounded, contributed greatly 
to relieve the monotony of so dead a level. 
There were heights in view, on Shelter 
Island, and bluffs toward Riverhead, 
which, if they would not attract much at- 
tention in Switzerland, were by no means 
overlooked in Suffolk. In a word, both 
the season and the place were charming, 
though most of the flowers had already 
faded; and the apple, and the pear, and 
the peach, were taking the places of the in- 
viting cherry. Fruit abounded, notwith- 
standing the close vicinity of the district 
to salt water, the airs from the sea being 
broken, or somewhat tempered, by the 
land that lay to the southward. 

We have spoken of the coasters that 
ply between the ‘emporium and all the 
creeks and bays of the Sound, as well as 
of the numberless rivers that find an out- 
let for their waters between Sandy Hook 
and Rockaway. Wharves were con- 
structed, at favorable points, inside the 
prong, and occasionally a sloop was seen 
at them loading its truck, or discharging 
its ashes or street manure; the latter 
being a very common return cargo for a 
Long Island coaster. At one wharf, how- 
ever, now lay a vessel of a different mold, 
and one which, though of no great size, 
was manifestly intended to go outside. 
This was a schooner that had been recent- 
ly launched, and which had advanced no 
farther in its first equipment than to get 
in its two principal spars, the rigging of 
which hung suspended .over the mast- 
heads, in readiness to be ‘“‘set up”’ for 
the first time. The day being Sunday, 
work was suspended, and this so much 
the more, because the owner of the vessel 
was a certain Deacon Pratt, who dwelt in 
a house within half a mile of the wharf, 
and who was also the proprietor of three 
several parcels of land in that neighbor- 
hood, each of which had its own buildings 
and conveniences, and was_ properly 
enough dignified with the name of a 


10 WORKS 


farm. To be sure, neither of these farms 
was very large, their acres united amount- 
ing to but little more than two hundred ; 
but, owing to their condition, the native 
richness of the soil, and the mode of turn- 
ing them to account, they had made Dea- 
con Pratt a warm man for Suffolk. 

There are two great species of deacons ; 
for we suppose they must all be referred 
to the same genera. One species belong 
to the priesthood, and become priests and 
bishops ; passing away, as priests and 
bishops are apt to do, with more or less 
of the savor of godliness. The other 
Species are purely laymen, and are suz 
generis. They are, ex-officio, the most 
pious men in a neighborhood, as_ they 
sometimes are, as it would seem to us, ex- 
officio, also the most grasping and mer- 
cenary. As we are not in the secrets of 
the sects to which these lay deacons be- 
long, we shall not presume to pronounce 
whether the individual is elevated to the 
deaconate because he is prosperous, in a 
worldly sense, or whether the prosperity 
is a consequence of the deaconate ; but, 
that the two usually go together is quite 
certain ; which being the cause, and which 
the effect, we leave to wiser heads to 
determine. 

Deacon Pratt was no exception to the 
rule. A tighter-fisted sinner did not exist 
in the county than this pious soul, who 
certainly not only wore, but wore out the 
*‘form of godliness,’’ while he was devoted, 
heart and hand, to the daily increase of 
worldly gear. No one spoke disparaging- 
ly of the deacon, notwithstanding. So 
completely had he got to be interwoven 
with the church—‘“‘ meeting,’’ we ought to 
say—in that vicinity, that speaking dis- 
paragingly of him would have appeared 
like assailing Christianity. It is true, 
that many an unfortunate fellow-citizen in 
Suffolk had been made to feel how close 
was the gripe of his hand, when he found 
himself in its grasp; but there is a way of 
practicing the most ruthless extortion, 
that serves not only to deceive the world, 
but which would really seem to mislead 
the extortioner himself. Phrases take the 
place of deeds, sentiments those of facts, 
and grimaces those of benevolent looks, so 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


ingeniously and so impudently that the 
wronged often fancy that they are the 
victims of a severe dispensation of Provi- 
dence, when the truth would have shown 
that they were simply robbed. 

We do not mean, however, that Deacon 
Pratt was a robber. He was merely a 
hard man in the management of his af- 
fairs, never cheating, in a direct sense, 
but seldom conceding a cent to generous 
impulses, or to the duties of kind. He 
was a widower, and childless, circum- 


‘stances that rendered his love of gain 


still less pardonable; for many a man 
who is indifferent to money on his own ac- 
count, will toil and save to lay up hoards 
for those whe are to come after him. The 
deacon had only a niece to inherit his ef- 
fects, unless he might choose to step be- 
yond that degree of consanguinity, and 
bestow a portion of his means on cousins. 
The church—or, to be more literal, the 
‘* meeting ’’—had an eye to his resources, 
however; and it was whispered it had 
actually succeeded, by means known to 
itself, in squeezing out of his tight grasp 
no less a sum than one hundred dollars, 
as a donation to a certain theological 
college. It was conjectured by some per- 
sons that this was only the beginning of a 
religious liberality, and that the excellent 
and godly-minded deacon would bestow 
most of his property in a similar way, 
when,the moment should come that it 
could be no longer of any use to himself. 
This opinion was much in favor with 
divers devout females of.the deacon’s 
congregation, who had daughters of their 
own, and who seldom failed to conclude 
their observations on this interesting sub- 
ject with some such remark as, ‘‘ Well, in 
that case, and it seems to me that every- 
thing points that way, Mary Pratt will 
get no more than any‘other poor man’s 
daughter.”’ 

Little did Mary, the only child of Israel 
Pratt, an elder brother of the deacon, 
think of all this. She had been left an 
orphan in her tenth year, both parents 
dying within a few months of each other, 
and had lived beneath her uncle’s roof for 
nearly ten more years, until use, and nat- 
ural affection, and the customs of the 


THE SHA LIONS. 


country, had made her feel absolutely at 
home there. A less interested, or less 
selfish being than Mary Pratt, never ex- 
isted. In this respect she was the very 
antipodes of her uncle, who often stealthi- 
ly rebuked her for her charities and acts 
of neighborly kindness, which he was wont 
to term waste. But Mary kept the even 
tenor of her way, seemingly not hearing 
such remarks, and doing her duty quietly, 
and in all humility. 

Suffolk was settled originally by emi- 
grants from England, and the character 
of its people is to this hour of modified 
New England habits and notions. Now 
one of the marked peculiarities of Connec- 
ticut is an indisposition to part with any- 
thing without a quid pro quo. Those 
little services, offerings and conveniences 
that are elsewhere parted with without a 
thought of remuneration, go regularly 
upon the day-book, and often reappear on 
a ‘*settlement,’’ yearsafter they have been 
forgotten by those who received the fa- 
vors. Hventhe man who keeps a carriage 
will let it out for hire; and the manner in 
which money is accepted, and even asked 
for by persons in easy circumstances, and 
for things that would be gratuitous in the 
Middle States, often causes disappoint- 
ment, and sometimes disgust. In this 
particular Scottish and Swiss thrift, both 
notorious, and the latter particularly so, 
are nearly equaled by New Fngland 
thrift ; more especially in the close esti- 
mate of the value of services rendered. So 
marked, indeed, is this practice of looking 
for requitals, that even the language is in- 
fected with it. Thus, should a person pass 
a few months by invitation with a friend, 
his visit is termed ‘‘ boarding ;’’ it being 
regarded as a matter of course that 
he pays his way. It would scarcely be 
safe, indeed, without the precaution of 
i. passing receipts’’ on quitting, for one to 
stay any time in a New England dwelling, 
unless prepared to pay for his board. The 
free and frank habits that prevail among 
relatives and friends elsewhere, are nearly 
unknown there, every service having its 
price. These customs are exceedingly re- 
pugnant to all who have been educated in 
different notions; yet they are not without 


11 


their redeeming qualities, that might be 
pointed out to advantage, though our 
limits will not permit us, at this moment, 
so to do. 

Little did Mary Pratt suspect the truth ; 
but habit, or covetousness, or Some vague 
expectation that the girl might yet con- 
tract a marriage that would enable him 
to claim all his advances, had induced the 
deacon never to bestow a cent on her edu- 
cation, or dress, or pleasures of any sort, 
that the money was not regularly charged 
against her in that nefarious work he 
called his ‘‘day-book.’’ As for the self- 
respect, and the feelings of caste, which 
prevent a gentleman from practicing any 
of these tradesmen’s tricks, the deacon 
knew nothing of them. He would have 
set the man down asa fool who deferred 
to any notions so unprofitable. With him 
not only every man, but every thing, 
‘had its price,’? and usually it was a 
good price, too. At the very moment 
when our tale opens, there stood charged 
in his book, against his unsuspecting and 
affectionate niece, items in the way of 
schooling, dress, board, and _ pocket 
money, that amounted to the considerable 
sum of one thousand dollars, money fairly 
expended. The deacon was only intensely 
mean and avaricious, while he was as 
honest as the day. Not a cent was over: 
charged; and, to own the truth, Mary 
was so great a favorite with him that 
most of his charges against her were 
rather of a reasonable rate than other- 
wise. 


— 


CHAPTER II. 


‘‘Marry, I saw your niece do more favors 
To the count’s serving-man, than ever she bestowed 
Upon me; I saw it i’ the orchard!” 
—TWELFTH NIGHT. 


On the Sunday in question, Deacon 
Pratt went to meeting as usual, the 
building in which divine service was held 
that day, standing less than two miles 
from his residence; but, mstead of re- 
maining for the afternoon’s preaching, as 
was his wont, he got into his one-horse 
chaise, the vehicle then in universal use 
among the middle classes, though now so 


12 WORKS 
seldom seen, and skirred away homeward 
as fast as an active, well-fed, and power- 
ful switch-tailed mare could draw him ; 
the animal being accompanied in her rapid 
progress by a colt of some three months’ 
existence. The residence of the deacon 
was unusually inviting for a man of his 
narrow habits. It stood on the edge of a 
_ fine apple-orchard, having a door-yard of 
nearly two acres in its front. This door- 
yard, which had been twice mown that 
summer, was prettily embellished with 
flowers, and was shaded by four rows of 
noble cherry trees. The house itself was 
of wood, as is almost uniformly the case 
in Suffolk, where little stone is to be 
found, and where brick constructions are 
apt to be thought damp; but it was a re- 
spectable edifice, with five windows in 
front, and of two stories. The siding was 
of unpainted cedar-shingles; and, although 
the house had been erected long previ- 
ously to the Revolution, the siding had 
been renewed but once, about ten years 
before the opening of our tale, and the 
whole building was in a perfect state of 
repair. 

The thrift of the deacon rendered him 
careful, and he was thoroughly convinced 


of the truth of the familiar adage which. 


tells us that ‘‘a stitch in time saves nine.’’ 
All around the house and farm was in per- 
fect order, proving the application of the 
saying. As for the view, it was suffi- 
ciently pleasant, the house having its front 
toward the east, while its end windows 
looked, the one set in the direction of the 
Sound, and the other in that of the arm of 
the sea, which belongs properly to Peconic 
Bay, we believe. All this water, some of 
which was visible over points and among 
islands, together with a smiling and fer- 
tile, though narrow stretch of foreground, 
could not fail of making an agreeable 
landscape. 

It was little, however, that Deacon 
Pratt thought of views, or beauty of any 
sort, as the mare reached the open gate 
of his own abode. Mary was standing in 
the stoop, or porch of the house, and ap- 
peared to be anxiously awaiting her uncle’s 
return. The latter gave the reins to a 
black, one who was no longer a slave, but 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


who was a descendant of some of the an- 
cient slaves of the Pratts, and in that 
character consented still to dawdle about 
the place, working for half price. On 
alighting, the uncle approached the niece 
with somewhat of interest in his manner. 

‘““ Well, Mary,’ said the former, ‘‘ how 
does he get on now? ” 

“Oh! my dear sir, he cannot possibly 
live, I think, and Ido most earnestly en- 
treat that you will let me send across to 
the harbor for Dr. Sage.”’ 

By the harbor was meant Sag’s, una 
the physician named was one of merited 
celebrity in old Suffolk. So healthy was 
the country in general, and so simple 
were the habits of the people, that nei- 
ther lawyer nor physician was to be found 
in every hamlet, as is the case to-day. 
Both were to be had at Riverhead, as well 
as at Sag Harbor ; but, if a man called 
out ‘‘Squire,’’ or ‘‘ Doctor,” in the high- 
ways of Suffolk, sixteen men did not turn 
round to reply, as is said to be the case 
in other regions; one half answering to 
the one appellation, and the second half 
to the other. The deacon had two objec- 
tions to yielding to his niece’s earnest re- 
quest ; the expense being one, though it 
was not in this instance the greatest; 
there was another reason that he kept to 
himself, but which will “7 as our 
narrative proceeds. 

A few weeks previously to the Sunday 
in question, a Sea-going vessel, inward 
bound, had brought up in Gardiner’s 
Bay, which is a usual anchorage for all 
sorts of craft. A worn-out and battered 
seaman had been put ashore on Oyster 
Pond, by a boat from this vessel, which 
sailed to the westward soon after, pro- 
ceeding most probably to New York. 
The stranger was not only well advanced 
in life, but he was obviously wasting 
away with disease. 

The account given of himself by this 
seaman was sufficiently explicit. Hewas 
born on Martha’s Vineyard, but, asis cus- 
tomary with the boys of that island, he 
had left home in his twelfth year, and had 
now been absent from the place of his 
birth a little more than half a century. 
Conscious of the decay which beset him, 


THE SHA LIONS. 


and fully convinced that his days were 
few and numbered, the seaman, who 
called himself Tom Daggett, had felt a 
desire to close his eyes in the place where 
they had first been opened to the light 
of day. He had persuaded the com- 
mander of the craft mentioned to bring 
him from the West Indies, and to put 
him ashore as related, the Vineyard being 
only a hundred miles or so to the east- 
ward of Oyster Pond Point. He trusted 
to luck to give him the necessary oppor- 
tunity of overcoming these last hundred 
miles. 

Daggett was poor, as he admitted, as 
well as friendless and unknown. He had 
with him, nevertheless, a substantial sea- 
chest, one of those that the sailors of that 
day uniformly used in merchant-vessels, 
a man-of-war compelling them to carry 
their cloths in bags, for the convenience of 
compact stowage. The chest of Daggett, 
however, was a regular inmate of the 
forecastle, and, from its appearance, had 
made almost aS many .voyages as its 
owner. ‘The last, indeed, was heard to 
say that he had succeeded in saving it 
from no less than three shipwrecks. It 
was a reasonably heavy chest, though its 
contents, when opened, did not seem to 
be of any very great value. 

A few hours after landing this man had 
made a bargain with a middle-aged widow, 
in very humble circumstances, and who 
dwelt quite near to the residence of Deacon 
Pratt, to receive him as a temporary in- 
mate; or, until he could get a ‘‘chance 
across to the Vineyard.’’ At first Dag- 
gett kept about, and was much in the 
‘open air. While able to walk he met the 
deacon, and singular—nay, unaccountable 
as it seemed to the niece—the uncle soon 
contracted a species of friendship for, not 
to say intimacy with, this stranger. In 
the first place, the deacon was a little 
particular in not having intimates among 
the necessitous, and the Widow White 
soon let it be known that her guest had 
not even a ‘‘red cent.’’ He had chattels, 
however, that were of some estimation 
among seamen; and Roswell Gardiner, 
or ‘‘Gar’ner,’’ as he was called, the 
young seaman par excellence of the 


13 


Point, one who had been not only a-whaling, 
but who had also been a-sealing, and who 
at that moment was on board the deacon’s 
schooner, in the capacity of master, had 
been applied to for advice and assistance. 
By the agency of Mr. Gar’ner, as the 
young mate was then termed, sundry 
palms, sets of sail-needles, a fid or two, 
and various other similar articles, that 
obviously could no longer be of any use to 
Daggett, were sent across to the ‘‘ Har- 
bor,’’ and disposed of there, to advantage, 
among the many seamen of the port. By 
these means the stranger was, for a few 
weeks, enabled to pay his way, the board 
he got being both poor and cheap. 

A much better result attended this in- 
tercourse with Gardiner than that of rais- 
ing the wornout seaman’s immediate-ways 
and means. Between Mary Pratt and 
Roswell Gardiner there existed an inti- 
macy of long standing for their years, as 
well as of some peculiar features, to which 
there will be occasion to advert hereafter. 
Mary was the very soul of charity in all 
its significations, and this Gardiner knew. 
When, therefore, Daggett became really 
necessitous, in the way of comforts that 
even money could not command beneath 
the roof of the Widow White, the young 
man let the fact be known to the deacon’s 
niece, who immediately provided sundry 
delicacies that were acceptable to the pal- 
ate of even disease. As for her uncle, 
nothing was at first said to him on the 
subject. Although his intimacy with 
Daggett went on increasing, and they 
were daily more and more together in 
long and secret conference, not a sugges- 
tion was ever made by the deacon in the 
way of contributing to his new friend’s 
comforts. To own the truth, to give was 
the last idea that ever occurred to this 
man’s thoughts. 

Mary Pratt was observant, and of a 
mind so constituted that its observations 
usually led her to safe and accurate deduc- 
tions. Great was the surprise of all on 
the Point when it became known that. 
Deacon Pratt had purchased and put into 
the water the new sea-going craft that 
was building on speculation at Southold. 
Not only had he done this, but he had ac- 


14 WORKS 


tually bought some half-worn copper, and 
had it placed on the schooner’s bottom, as 
high as the bends, ere he had her launched. 
While the whole neighborhood was “ ex- 
ercised ’’ with conjectures on the motive 
which could induce the deacon to become 
a Ship-owner in his age, Mary did not fail 
to impute it to some secret but powerful 
influence that the sick stranger had ob- 
tained over him. He now spent nearly 
half his time in private communications 
with Daggett; and, on more than one 
occasion, when the niece had taken some 
light article of food over for the use of 
the last, she found him and her uncle ex- 
amining one or two dirty and well-worn 
charts of the ocean. As she entered, the 
conversation invariably was changed ; nor 
was Mrs. White ever permitted to be 
present at one of these secret conferences. 

Not only was the schooner purchased, 
and coppered, and launched, and prepara- 
tions made to fit her for sea, but “‘ young 
Gar’ner ’’ was appointed to command her! 
As respects Roswell Gardiner, or ‘‘ Gar’- 
ner,’? as it would be almost thought a 
breach of decorum, in Suffolk, not to call 
him, there was no mystery. Six-and- 
twenty years before the opening of our 
legend, he had been born on Oyster Pond 
itself, and of one of its best families. In- 
deed, he was known to be a descendant of 
Lyon Gardiner, that engineer who had 
been sent to the settlement of the lords 
Saye, and Seal, and Brook, since called 
Sayebrook, near two centuries before, to 
lay out a town and a fort. This Lyon 
Gardiner had purchased of the Indians the 
island in that neighborhood which still 
bears his name. This establishment on 
the island was made in.1639 ; and now, at 
an interval of two hundred and nine years, 
it isin possession of its ninth owner, all 
having been of the name and blood of its 
‘original patentee. Thisis great antiquity 
for America, which, while it has produced 
many families of greater wealth and re- 
nown, and importance, than that of the 
Gardiners, has seldom produced any of 
more permanent local respectability. 
This is a feature in society that we so 
much love to see, and which is so much 
endangered by the uncertain and migra- 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


tory habits of the people, that we pause a 
moment to record this instance of stabil- 
ity, so pleasing and so commendable, in an 
age and country of changes. 

The descendants of any family of two 
centuries’ standing will, as a matter of 
course, be numerous. There are excep- 
tions, certainly ; but it is the rule. Thus 
is it with Lyon Gardiner and his progeny, 
who are now to be numbered in scores, 
including persons in all classes of life, 
though it carries with it a stamp of caste 
to be known in Suffolk as having come 
direct from the loins of old Lyon Gar- 
diner. Roswell, of that name, if not of 
that ilk, the island then being the sole 
property of David Johnson Gardiner, the 
predecessor and brother of its present 
proprietor, was allowed to have this claim, 
though it would exceed our genealogical 
knowledge to point out the precise line by 
which this descent was claimed. Young 
Roswell was of respectable blood on both 
sides, without being very brilliantly con- 
nected or rich. On the contrary early 
left an orphan, fatherless and motherless, 
as was the case with Mary Pratt, he had 
been taken from a country academy when 
only fifteen, and sent to sea, that he 
might make his own way in the world. 
Hitherto his success had not been of a 
very flattering character. He had risen, 
notwithstanding, to be the chief mate of a 
whaler, and bore an excellent reputation 
among the people of Suffolk. Had it only 
been a year or two later, when speculation 
took hold of the whaling business in a 
large way, he would not have had the 
least difficulty in obtaining a ship. As it 
was, however, great was his delight when © 
Deacon Pratt engaged him as master of 
the new schooner, which had been already 
named the Sea Lion, or Sea Lyon, as 
Roswell sometimes affected to spell the 
word, in honor of his old progenitor, the 
engineer. 

Mary Pratt had noted all these proceed- 
ings, partly with pain, partly with pleas- 
ure, but always with great interest. It 
pained her to find her uncle, in the decline 
of life, engaging in a business about which 
he knew nothing. It pained her still more 
to see one whom she loved from habit, if 


THE SHA LIONS. 


not from moral sympataies, wasting the 
few hours that remained for preparing for 
the last great change in attempts to in- 
crease possessions that were already much 
more than sufficient for his wants. This 
consideration, in particular, deeply grieved 
Mary Pratt ; for she was profoundly pious, 
with a conscience that was so sensitive as 
materially to interfere with her happiness, 
as will presently be shown, while her uncle 
was merely a deacon. It is one thing to 
be a deacon, and another to be devoted to 
the love of God, and to that love of our 
species which we are told is the conse- 
quence of a love of the Deity. The two 
are not incompatible; neither are they 
identical. This Mary had been made to 
see, in spite of all her wishes to be blind 
as respects the particular subject from 
whom she had learned the unpleasant 
lesson. The pleasure felt by our heroine, 
for such we now announce Mary Pratt to 
be, was derived from the preferment be- 
stowed on’ Roswell Gardiner. She had 
many a palpitation of the heart when she 
heard of his good conduct as a seaman, as 
she always did whenever she heard his 
professional career alluded to at all. 

On this point Roswell was without spot, 
as all Suffolk knew and confessed. On 
Oyster Pond he was regarded as a species 
of sea lion himself, so numerous and So ex- 
citing were the incidents that were related 
of his prowess among the whales. But 
there was a dark cloud before all these 
glories in the eyes of Mary Pratt, which 
for two years had disinclined her to listen 
to the young man’s tale of love, which had 
induced her to decline accepting a hand 

that had now been offered to her, with a 
- geaman’s ardor, a seaman’s frankness, and 
a seaman’s sincerity, some twenty times 
at least, and which had induced her to 
struggle severely with her own heart, 
which she had long found to be a powerful 
ally of her suitor. That cloud came from 
a Species of infidelity that is getting to be 
so widely spread in America as no longer 
to work in secret, but which lifts its head 
boldly among us, claiming openly to be- 
long to one of the numerous sects of the 
land. Mary had reason to think that Ros- 
well Gardiner denied the divinity of Christ, 


15 


while he professed to honor and defer to 
him as a man far elevated above all other 
men, and as one whose blood had pur- 
chased the redemption of his race ! 

We will take this occasion to say that 
our legend is not polemical in any sense, 
and that we have no intention to enter 
into discussions or arguments connected 
with this subject, beyond those which we 
may conceive to be necessary to illustrate 
the picture which it is our real aim to draw 
—that of a confiding, affectionate, nay, 
devoted woman’s heart, in conflict with a 
deep sense of religious duty. 

Still, Mary rejoiced that Roswell Gar- 
diner was to command the Sea Lion. 
Whither this little vessel, a schooner of 
about one hundred and forty tons meas- 
urement, was to sail, she had not the 
slightest notion ; but, go where it might, 
her thoughts and prayers were certain 
to accompany it. These are woman’s 
means of exerting influence, and who 
shall presume to say that they are with- 
out results, and useless? On the con- 
trary, we believe them to be most 
efficacious ; and thrice happy is the man 
who, as he treads the mazes and wiles of 
the world, goes accompanied by the peti- 
tions of such gentle and pure-minded 
beings at home as seldom think of ap- 
proaching the throne of grace without 
also thinking of him and of his necessities. 
The Romanists say, and rightly too, could 
one only believe in their efficacy, that 
the prayers they offer up in behalf of 
departed friends are of the most endear- 
ing nature; but it would be difficult to 
prove that petitions for the souls of the 
dead can demonstrate greater interest, or 
bind the parties more closely together in 
the unity of love, than those that are 
constantly offered up in behalf of the 
living. 

The interest that Mary Pratt felt in 
Roswell’s success needs little explanation. 
In all things he was most agreeable to 
her, but in the one just mentioned. Their 
ages, their social positions, their habits, 
their orphan condition, even their preju- 
dices—and who that dwells aside from 
the world is without them, when most 
of those who encounter its collisions still 


16 


cherish them so strongly ?—all united to 
render them of interest to each other. 
Nor was Deacon Pratt at all opposed to 
the connection; on the contrary, he ap- 
peared rather to favor it. 

The objections came solely from Mary, 
whose heart was nearly ready to break 
each time that she was required to urge 
them. As for the uncle, it is not easy 
to say what could induce him to acqui- 
esce in, to favor indeed, the addresses 
to his niece and nearest relative, of one 
who was not known to possess five hun- 
dred dollars in the world. As his opinions 
on this subject were well known to all on 
Oyster Pond, they had excited a good 
deal of speculation; ‘‘ exercising ’’ the 
whole neighborhood, as was very apt to 
be the case whenever anything occurred 
in the least out of the ordinary track. The 
several modes of reasoning were something 
like this: 

Some were of opinion that the deacon 
foresaw a successful career to, and event- 
ful prosperity in the habits and enterprise 
of the young mate, and that he was will- 
ing to commit to his keeping, not only his 
niece, but the three farms, his ‘‘ money at 
use,’’ and certain shares he was known to 
own in a whaler, and no less than three 
coasters, aS well as an interest in a store 
at Southold; that is to say, to commit 
them all to the keeping of ‘‘ young Gar’- 
ner,’’ when he was himself dead; for no 
one believed he would part with more than 
Mary, in his own lifetime. 

Others fancied he was desirous of get- 
ting the orphan off his hands, in the easi- 
est possible way, that he might make a 
bequest of his whole estate to the theologi- 
cal institution that had been coquetting 
with him now, for several years, through 
its recognized agents, and to which he 
had already made the liberal donation of 
one hundred dollars. It was well ascer- 
tained that the agents of that institution 
openly talked of getting Deacon Pratt to 
sit for his portrait, in order that it might 
be suspended among those of others of its 
benefactors. 

A third set reasoned differently from 
both the foregoing. The ‘ Gar’ners”’ 
were a better family than the Pratts, and 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


the deacon being so ‘‘ well to do,” it was 
believed by these persons that he was dis- 
posed to unite money with name, and thus 
give to his family consideration from a 
source that was somewhat novel in its 
history. This class of reasoners was quite 
small, however, and mainly consisted of 
those who had ‘rarely been off of Oyster 
Pond, and who passed their days with 
“‘Gar’ner’s Island” directly before their 
eyes. <A few of the gossips of this class 
pretended to say that their own young 
sailor stood next in succession after the 
immediate family actually in possession 
should run out, of which there was then 
some prospect ; and that the deacon, sly 
fellow, knew all about it! For this sur- 
mise, to prevent useless expectations in 
the reader, it may be well to say at once, 
there was no foundation whatever, Ros- 
well’s connection with the owner of the 
island being much too remote to give him 
any chance of succeeding to that estate, 
or to anything else that belonged to him. 

There was a fourth and last set among 
those who speculated on the deacon’s 
favor toward ‘‘ young Gar’ner,’’ and these 
were they who fancied that the old man 
had opened his heart toward the young 
couple, and was disposed to render a de- 
serving youth and a beloved niece happy. 
This was the smallest class of all; and, 
what is a little remarkable, it contained 
only the most reckless and least virtuous 
of all those who dwelt on Oyster Pond. 
The parson of the parish, or the Pastor as 
he was usually termed, belonged to the 
second category, that good man being 
firmly impressed that most, if not all, 
of Deacon Pratt’s worldly effects would 
eventually go to help propagate the gos- 
pel. 

Such was the state of things when the 
deacon returned from meeting, as related 
in the opening chapter. At his niece’s 
suggestion of sending to the Harbor for 
Dr. Sage, he had demurred, not only on 
account of the expense, but for a still more 
cogent reason. To tell the truth, he was 
exceedingly distrustful of any one’s being 
admitted to a communication with Dag- 
gett, who had revealed to him matters that 
he deemed to be of great importance, but 


THE SHA LIONS. 17 


who still retained the key to his most ma- 
terial mystery. Nevertheless, decency, to 
say nothing of the influence of what folks 
“‘would say,’’ the Archimedean lever of 
all society of puritanical origin, exhorted 
him to consent to his niece’s proposal. 

“‘Tt is such a roundabout road to get to 
the Harbor, Mary,’’ the uncle slowly ob- 
jected after a pause. 

‘‘ Boats often go there, and return in a 
few hours.”’ 

«Yes, yes—boats ; but I’m not certain 
it is lawful to work boats of a Sabbath, 
child.” 

‘“T believe, sir, it was deemed lawful to 
do good on the Lord’s day.”’ 

« Yes, if a body was certain it would do 
any good. To be sure, Sage is a capital 
doctor—as good as any going in these 
parts—but, half the time, money paid for 
doctor’s stuff is thrown away.”’ 

‘Still, I think it our duty to try to 
serve a fellow-creature that is in distress ; 
and Daggett, I fear, will not go through 
the week, if indeed he go through the 
night.’’ 

“‘T should be sorry to have him die!”’ 
exclaimed the deacon, looking really dis- 
tressed at this intelligence. ‘‘ Right sorry 
should I be to have him die—just yet.”’ 

The last two words were uttered uncon- 
sciously, and in a way to cause the niece 
to regret that they had been uttered at 
all. But they had come, notwithstand- 
ing, and the deacon saw that he had been 
too frank. The fault could not now be 
remedied, and he was fain to allow his 
words to produce their own effect. 

“Die he will, I fear, uncle,’’ returned 
Mary, after a short pause; ‘‘and sorry 
should I be to have it so without our feel- 
ing the consolation of knowing we had 
done all in our power to save him, or to 
serve him.”’ 

“It is so far to the Harbor, that no 
good might come of a messenger ; and the 
money paid him would be thrown away, 
too.”’ 

“Tl dare say Roswell Gar’ner would be 
glad to help a fellow-creature who is suf- 
fering. Hewould not think of demanding 
any pay.” 


“Yes, that is true. I will say this for 


Gar’ner, that he is as reasonable a young 
man, when he does an odd job, as any one 
I know. [I like to employ him.’’ 

Mary understood this very well. It 
amounted to neither more nor less than 
the deacon’s perfect consciousness that 
the youth had, again and again, given 
him his time and his services gratuitously; 
and that, too, more than once, under cir- 
cumstances when it would have been quite 
proper that he should look for a remuner- 
ation. A slight color stole over the face 
of the niece as memory recalled to her 
mind these different occasions. Was that 
sensitive blush owing to her perceiving the 
besetting weakness of one who stood in the 
light of a parent to her, and toward whom 
she endeavored to feel the affection of a 
child? We shall not gainsay this, so far 
as a portion of the feeling which produced 
that blush was concerned; but, certain it 
is, that the thought that Roswell had ex- 
erted himself to oblige her uncle, obtruded 
itself somewhat vividly among her other 
recollections. 

“Well, sir,”’ the niece resumed, after 
another brief pause, ‘‘ we can send for 
Roswell, if you think it best, and ask him 
to do the poor man this act of kindness.”’ 

‘«“Your messengers after doctors are 
always in such a hurry! I dare say 
Gar’ner would think it necessary to hire 
a horse to cross Shelter Island, and then 
perhaps a boat to get across to the Har- 
bor. If no boat was to be found, it might 
be another horse to gallop away round 
the head of the Bay. Why, five dollars 
would scarce meet the cost of such a 
race !’’ 

“Tf five dollars were needed, Roswell 
would pay thei out of his own pocket, 
rather than ask another to. assist him in 
doing an act of charity. But, no horse 
will be necessary ; the whale-boat is at 
the wharf, and is ready for use at any 
moment.’’ 

‘True, I had forgotten the whale-boat. 
If that is home the doctor might be 
brought across at a reasonable rate ; es- 
pecially if Gar’ner will volunteer. I dare 
say Daggett’s effects will pay the bill for 
attendance, since they have answered, as 
yet, to meet the Widow White’s charges. 


L8 


As I live, here comes Gar’ner at this mo- 
ment, and just as we want him.”’ 

‘*T knew of no other to ask to cross the 
bays, sir, and sent for Roswell before you 
returned. Had you not got back as you 
did, I should have taken on myself the 
duty of sending for the doctor.”’ 

‘‘In which case, girl, you would have 
made yourself liable. I have too many 
demands on my means to be scattering 
dollars broadcast. But, here is Gar’ner, 
and I dare say all will be made right.’’ 

Gardiner now joined the uncle and niece, 
who had held this conversation in the 
porch, having hastened up from the 
schooner the instant he received Mary’s 
summons. He was rewarded by a kind 
look and a friendly shake of the hand, 
each of which was slightly more cordial 
than those that prudent and thoughtful 
young woman was accustomed to bestow 
on him. He saw that Mary was a little 
earnest in her manner, and looked curious, 
as well as interested, to learn why he had 
been summoned at all. Sunday was kept 
so rigidly at the deacon’s that the young 
man did not dare visit the house until 
after the sun had set; the New England 
practice of commencing the Sabbath of a 
Saturday evening, and bringing it to a 
close at the succeeding sunset, prevailing 
among most of the people of Suffolk, the 
Episcopalians forming nearly all the ex- 
ceptions to the usage. Sunday evening, 
consequently, was in great request for 
visits, it being the favorite time for the 
young people to meet, as they were not 
only certain to be unemployed, but to be 
in their best. Roswell Gardiner was in 
the practice of visiting Mary Pratt on 
Sunday evenings ; but he would almost as 
soon think of desecrating a church, as 
think of entering the deacon’s abode, on 
the Sabbath, until after sunset or ‘‘sun- 
down,’’ to use the familiar Americanism 
that is commonly applied to this hour of 
the day. Here he was now, however, 
wondering, and anxious to learn why he 
had been sent for. 

** Roswell,’’ said Mary earnestly, slight- 
ly coloring again as she spoke, ‘‘ we have 
a great favor toask. You know the poor 
old sailor who has been staying at the 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


Widow White’s this month or more—he 
is now very low; so low, we think he 
ought to have better advice than can be 
found on Oyster Pond, and we wish to get 
Dr. Sage over from the Harbor. How to 
do it has been the question, when I 
thought of you. If you could take the 
whale-boat and go across, the poor man 
might have the benefit of the doctor’s ad- 
vice in the course of a few hours.’’ 

“Yes,’’ put in the uncle, ‘‘ and I shall 
charge nothing for the use of the boat; so 
that, if yow volunteer, Gar’ner, it will 
leave so much toward settling up the 
man’s accounts, when settling -day 
comes.”’ 

Roswell Gardiner understood both uncle 
and niece perfectly. The intense selfish- 
ness of the first was no more a secret to 
him than was the entire disinterestedness 
of the last. He gazed a moment, in fer- 
vent admiration, at Mary ; then he turned 
to the deacon, and professed his readiness 
to ‘‘volunteer.”’ Knowing the man so 
well, he took care distinctly to express 
the word, so as to put the mind of this 
votary of Mammon at ease. 

*“Gar’ner will volunteer, then,’ re- 
joined the uncle, ‘‘and I shall charge 
nothing for the use of the boat. This is: 
‘doing as we would be done by,’ and is 
all right, considering that Daggett is sick 
and among strangers. The wind is fair, 
or nearly fair, to go and to come back, 
and you’ll make a short trip of it. Yes, 
it will cost nothing, and may do the poor 
man good.”’ 

““ Now go at once, Roswell, ”’ said Mary, 
in an entreating manner; ‘‘and show the 
same skill in managing ‘the boat that you 
did the day you won the race against the 
Harbor oarsmen.”’ 

‘*T will do all that a man can, to oblige 
you, Mary, as well as to serve the sick. 
If Dr. Sage should not be at home, am 
I to look for amo LnGe physigian, Mr. 
Pratt ? ’’ 

“Sage must be at Home an can em- 
ploy no other. Your old long-established 
physicians understand how .to consider 
practice, and don’t make mistakes—by 
the way, Gar’ner, you needn’t mention 
my name in the business at all. Just say 


THE 


that a sick man, at the Widow White’s, 
needs his services, and that you had 
volunteered to take him across. That 
will bring him—TI know the man.’’ 

Again Gardiner understood what the 
deacon meant. He was just as desirous 
of not paying the physician as of not pay- 
ing the messenger. Mary understood 
him, too, and, with a face more sad than 
anxiety had previously made it, she 
walked into the house, leaving her uncle 
and lover in the porch. After afew more 
injunctions from the former, in the way of 
prudent precaution, the latter departed, 
hurrying down to the waterside in order 
to take the boat. 


CHAPTER, III. 


* All that glisters is not gold, 
Often have you heard that told; 
Many a man his life hath sold, 
But my outside to behold.”’ 
—MERCHANT OF VENICE. 


No sooner was Deacon Pratt left alone, 
than he hastened to the humble dwelling 
of the Widow White. The disease of 
Daggett was a general decay, that was 
not attended with much suffering. He 
was now seated in a homely armchair, and 
was able to converse. Hewas not aware, 
indeed, of the real danger of his case, and 
still had hopes of surviving many years. 
The deacon came in at the door, just as 
the widow had passed through it, on her 
way to visit another crone, who lived hard 
by, and with whom she was in the constant 
habit of consulting. She had seen the 
deacon in the distance, and took that occa- 
sion to run across the road, having a sort 
of instinctive notion that her presence was 
not required when the two men conferred 
together. What was the subject of their 
frequent private communications, the 
Widow White did not exactly know ; 
but what she imagined, will in part ap- 
pear in her discourse with her neighbor, 
the Widow Stone. 

** Here’s the deacon, ag’in!’’ cried the 
Widow White, as she bolted hurriedly 
into her friend’s presence. ‘‘ This makes 
the third time he has been at my house 


SHA LIONS.: 


19 


since yesterday morning. Whan can he 
mean ? ”’ 

“Oh! I dare say, Betsy, he means no 
more than to visit the sick, as he pretends 
is the reason of his many visits.”’ 

“You forget it is Sabba’ day !’’ added 
the Widow White, with emphasis. 

“The better day, the better deed, 
Betsy.”’ 

““T know that; but it’s dreadful often 
for a man to visit the sick—three times in 
twenty-four hours !”’ 

“Yes; *twould have been more nat’ral 
for a woman, a body must own,”’’ re- 
turned the Widow Stone, a little dryly. 
‘‘Had the deacon been a woman, I dare 
say, Betsy, you would not have thought 
so much of his visits.” 

‘*T should think nothing of them at all,”’ 
rejomed the sister widow, innocently 
enough. ‘‘ But it is dreadful odd ina man 
to be visiting about among the sick so 
much—and he a deacon of the meeting ! ”’ 

«Yes, it is not as common as it might 
be, particularly among deacons. But, 
come in, Betsy, and I will show you the 
text from which the minister preached 
this morning. It’s well worth attending 
to, for it touches on our forlorn state.’ 
Hereupon, the two relicts entered an 
inner room, where we shall leave them to 
discuss the merits of the sermon, inter- 
rupted by many protestations on the part 
of the Widow White, concerning the 
“‘dreadful’’ character of Deacon Pratt’s 
many visits to her cottage, ‘‘Sabba’ 
days’’ as well as week days. 

In the meanwhile, the interview between 
the deacon himself, and the sick mariner, 
had its course. After the first salutations, 
and the usual inquiries, the visitor, with 
some parade of manner, alluded to the 
fact that he had sent for a physician for 
the other’s benefit. 

“‘T did it of my own head,’ added the 
deacon; ‘‘or, I might better say, of my 
own heart. It was unpleasant to me to 
witness your sufferings, without doing 
something to alleviate them. To alleviate 
sorrow, and pain, and the throes .of con- 
science, is one of the most pleasant of all 
the Christian offices. Yes, I have sent 
young Gar’ner across the bays, to the 


20 


Harbor; and three or four hours hence 
we may look for him back, with Dr. Sage 
in his boat.” 

‘‘T only hope I shall have the means to 
pay for all this expense and trouble, dea- 
con,’’ returned Daggett, in a sort of doubt- 
ing way, that, for a moment, rendered his 
friend exceedingly uncomfortable. ‘“‘ Go, 
I know I must, sooner or later; but could 
I only live to get to the Vineyard, it would 
be found that my share of the old home- 
stead would make up for all my wants. I 
may live to see the end of the other busi- 
ness.”’ 

Among the other tales of Daggett, was 
one which said that he had never yet re- 
ceived his share of his father’s property ; 
an account that was true enough, though 
the truth might have shown that the old 
man had left nothing worth dividing. He 
had been a common mariner, like the son, 
and had left behind him a common mari- 
ner’s estate. The deacon mused a mo- 
ment, and then he took an occasion to 
advert to the subject that had now been 
uppermost in his thoughts ever since he 
had been in the habit of holding secret 
conferences with the sick man. What 
that subject was, will appear in the course 
of the conversation that ensued. 

‘‘ Have you thought of the chart, Dag- 
gett ?”’’ asked the-deacon, “‘and given an 
eye to that journal ?”’ 

‘Both, sir. Your kindness to me has 
been so gr eat, that I am not a man apt to 
forget it.’ 

‘J wish you would show me, yourself, 
the precise place on the chart where them 
islands are to be found. There is noth- 
ing like seeing a thing with one’s own 
eyes.”’ 

You forget my oath, Deacon Pratt. 
Every man on us took his Bible oath not 
to point out the position of the islands, 
until a’ter the year 1820. Then, each and 
all on us is at liberty to do as he pleases. 
But, the chart is in my chest, and not 
only the islands, but the key, is so plainly 
laid down that any mariner could find ’em. 
With that chest, however, I cannot part, 
so long as I live. 
sailin the Sea Lion, and tell your Cap- 
tain Garner all he will have occasion to 


Get me well, and I will 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


know. The man’s fortune will be made 
who first gets to either of them places.”’ 

‘““Yes, I can imagine that easy. cgnough, 
from your accounts, Daggett—but, how 
am I to be certain that some other vessel 
will not get the start of me ? ”’ 

“Because the secret is now my own. 
There was but seven on us, in that brig, 
all told. Of them seven, four died at the 
islands of the fever, homeward bound; 
and of the other three, the captain was 
drowned in the squall I told you of, when 
he was washed overboard. That left only 
Jack Thompson and me; and Jack, I think, 
must be the very man whose death I see’d 
six months since, as being killed by a 
whale on the False Banks.”’ 

‘Jack Thompson is so common a name, 
a body never knows. Besides, if he was _ 
killed by that whale, he may have told 
the secret to a dozen before the accident.”’ 

*‘There’s his oath ag’in it. Jack was 
sworn, as wellas all on us, and he was a 
man likely to stand by what he swore to. 
This was none of your custom-house oaths, 
of which a chap might take a dozen of a 
morning, and all should be false; but it 
was an oath that put a seaman on his 
honor, since it was a good-fellowship affair, 
all round.”’ 7 

Deacon Pratt did not fell Daggett that 
Thompson might have as good reasons 
for disregarding the oath as he had him- 
self ; but he thought it. These are things 
that no wise man utters on such.occasions ; 
and this opinion touching the equality of 
the obligation of that oath was one of 
them. 

“There is another hold upon Jack,” 
continued Daggett, after reflecting a mo- 
ment. ‘*He never could make any fist of 
latitude and longitude at all, and he kept 
no journal. Now, should he get it wrong, 
he and his friends might hunt a year with- 
out finding either of the places.”’ 

‘“You think there was no mistake in 
the pirate’s account of that key, and of 
the buried treasure ?”’ asked the deacon, 
anxiously. 

‘*T would swear to the truth of what he 
said, as freely as if I had seen the box my- 
self. They was necessitated, as you may 
suppose, or they never would have left so 


THE SHA LIONS. 


much gold, in sich an uninhabited place ; 
but leave it they did, on the word of a 
dying man.”’ 

« Dying ?—You mean the pirate, I sup- 
pose ?”’ | 

“To be sure I do. We was shut up 
in the same prison, and we talked the 
matter over at least twenty times, before 
he was swung off. When they were satis- 
fied 1 had nothing to do with the pirates, 
I was cleared ; and I was on my way to 
the Vineyard, to get some craft or other, 
to go a’ter these two treasures (for one is 
just as much a treasure as t’other) when 
I was put ashore here. It’s much the 
same to me, whether the craft sails from 
Oyster Pond or from the Vineyard.’’ 

‘“Of course. Well, as much to oblige 
you, and to put your mind at rest, as 
anything else, I’ve bought this Sea Lion, 
and engaged young Roswell Gar’ner to 
go out in her, as her master. She’ll be 
ready to sail in a fortnight, and, if things 
turn out as you say, a good voyage will 
she make. All interested in her will have 
reason to rejoice. I see but one thing 
needful just now, and that is, that you 
should give me the chart at once, in order 
that I may study it well, before the 
schooner sails.’ 

“Do you mean to make the v’y’ge 
yourself, deacon?’’ asked Daggett, in 
some surprise. 

‘‘Not in person, certainly,’’ was the 
answer. - “I’m getting somewhat too old 
to leave home for so long a time; and, 
though born and brought up in sight of 
salt-water, I’ve never tried it beyond a 
trip to York, or one to Boston. Still, I 
‘shall have my property in the adventure, 
and it’s nat’ral to keep an eye on that. 
Now, the chart well studied beforehand 
would be much more useful, it seems to 
me, than it can possibly be if taken up at 
a late hour.”’ 

‘‘There will be time enough for Captain 
Gar’ner to overhaul his chart well, afore 
he reaches either of his ports,’’ returned 
‘the mariner, evasively.: “If I sail with 
him, as I suppose I must, nothing will be 
easier than for me to give all the courses 
and distances.”’ 

This reply produced a long and brooding 


21 


silence. By this time the reader will have 
got a clew to the nature of the secret that 
was discussed so much and so often be- 
tween these two men. Daggett, finding 
himself sick, poor, and friendless, among 
strangers, had early cast about him for 
the means of obtaining an interest with 
those who might serve him. He had soon 
got an insight into the character of Deacon 
Pratt, from the passing remarks of the 
Widow White, who was induced to allude 
to the uncle in consequence of the chari- 
table visits of the niece. One day, when 
matters appeared to be at a very low ebb 
with him, and shortly after he had been 
put ashore, the sick mariner requested an 
interview with the deacon himself. The 
request had been reluctantly granted ; 
but, during the visit, Daggett had man- 
aged so well to whet: his visitor’s appetite 
for gain, that henceforth there was no 
trouble in procuring the deacon’s com- 
pany. Little »by little had Daggett let 
out his facts, always keeping enough in 
reserve to render himself necessary, until 
he had got his new acquaintance in the 
highest state of feverish excitement. The 
schooner was purchased, and all the 
arrangements necessary to her outfit were 
pressed forward as fast as prudence would 
at allallow. The chart, and the latitude 
and longitude, were the circumstances 
over which Daggett retained the con- 
trol. These he kept to himself, though 
he averred that he had lJaid down on the 
charts that were in his chest the two im- 
portant points which had been the subjects 
of his communications. 

Although this man had been wily in 
making his revelations, and had chosen 
his confidant with caution and sagacity, 
most of that which he related was true. 
He had belonged to a sealer that had been 
in a very high southern latitude, where it 
had made some very important discoveries 
touching the animals that formed the ob- 
jects of its search. It was possible to fill 
a vessel in those islands in a few weeks; 
and the master of the sealer, Daggett hav- 
ing been his mate, had made all his people 
swear on their ‘‘ Bible oaths ’’ not to re- 
veal the facts, except under prescribed 
circumstances. His own vessel was full 


Re 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


when he made the discoveries, but mis-! rendered him certain services, too, and 
2 3 


fortune befell her on her homeward-bound 
passage, until she was herself totally lost 
in the West Indies, and that in a part of 
the ocean where he had no business to be. 

In consequence of these several calami- 
ties, Daggett and one more man were the 
sole living depositories of the important 
information. ‘These men separated, and, 
as stated, Daggett had reason to think that 
his former shipmate had been recently 
killed by a whale. The life and move- 
ments of a sailor are usually as eccentric 
as the career of a comet. After the loss 
of the sealing vessel, Daggett remained in 
the West Indies and on the Spanish Main 
for some time, until, falling into evil com- 
pany, he was imprisoned on a charge of 
piracy, in company with one who better 
deserved the imputation. While in the 
same cell the pirate had made a relation 
of all the incidents of a very eventful 
life. 

Among other things revealed was -the 
fact that, on a certain occasion, he and 
two others had deposited a very consider- 
able amount of treasure on a key that he 
described very minutely, and which he 
now bestowed on Daggett as some com- 
pensation for his present unmerited suf- 
ferings, his companions having both been 
drowned by the upsetting of their boat 
on the return from the key in question. 
Subsequently, this pirate had been exe- 
cuted, and Daggett liberated. He was 
not able to get to the key without making 
friends and confidants on whom he could 
rely, and he was actually making the best 
of his way to Martha’s Vineyard with that 
intent, when put ashore on Oyster Pond. 
In most of that which this man had re- 
rated to the deacon, therefore, he had told 
the truth, though it was the truth embel- 
lished, asis so apt to be the case with men 
of vulgar minds. He might have been 
misled by the narrative of the pirate, but 
it was his own opinion that he had not 
been. The man was a Scot, prudent, 
wary, and sagacious; and in the revela- 
tions he made he appeared to be governed 
by a conviction that his own course was 
run, and that it was best that his secret 
should not die with him. Daggett had 


er a a NS A a A iS SS temo tect han il sn is 
ee 


gratitude might have had some influence. 

‘““My mind has been much exercised 
with this matter of the hidden gold,’’ re- 
sumed the deacon, after the long pause 
already mentioned. ‘‘ You will remember 
that there may be lawful owners of that 
money, Should Gar’ner even succeed in 
finding it.” 

“?T would be hard for ’em to prove 
their claims, sir, if what McGosh told me 
was true. Accordin’ to his account, the 
gold came from all sides—starboard and 
larboard, asa body might say—and it was 
jumbled together, and so mixed, that a 
young girl could not pick out her lover’s 
keepsake from among the other pieces. 
’Twas the ’arnin’s of three years’ cruisin’, 
as I understood him to say; and much of 
the stuff had been exchanged in port, 
especially to get the custom-house officers 
and king’s officers out of its wake. There’s 
king’s officers among them bloody Span- 
iards, Deacon Pratt, all the same as 
among the English.’’ 

‘Be temperate in your language, 
friend ; a rough speech is unseemly, par- 
ticularly on the Lord’s day.”’ 

Daggett rolled the tobacco over his 
tongue, and his eyes twinkled with a sort 
of leer, which indicated that the fellow 
was not without some humor. He sub- 
mitted patiently to the rebuke, however, 


making no remonstrance against its 
reception. 
‘““No, no,’? he added presently, ‘‘a 


starn chase, they say, is a long chase; 
and the owners of them doubloons, if 
owners they can now be called, must be 
out of sight long before this. Accordin’ 
to McGosh, some of the gold raally cap- 
tured had passed back through the hands 
of them that sent it to sea, and they did 
not know their own children !”’ 

“Tt is certainly hard to identify coin, 
and it would be a bold man who should 
stand up in open court, and make oath to 
its being the same he had once held. I 
have heard of the same gold’s having an- 
swered the purposes of twenty banks, one 
piece being so like another.”’ 

‘“‘ Ay, ay, sir, gold 1s gold; and any of 
it is good enough for me, though doub- 


THE SHA LIONS. 


loons is my favorzftes. When a fellow has 
got half-a-dozen doubloons alongside of 
his ribs he can look the landlord full in the 
eye; and no one thinks of saying to sich 
as he, ‘It’s time to think of shipping 
afin. 9? 

From the nature of this discourse, it 
will not be easy for the reader to imagine 
the real condition of Daggett. 
very moment he was thus conversing of 
money, and incidentally manifesting his 
expectations of accompanying Roswell 
Gardiner in the expedition that was about 
to sail, the man had not actually four-and- 
twenty hours of life in him. Mary Pratt 
had foreseen his true state, accustomed as 
she was to administer to the wants of the 
dying; but no one else appeared to be 
aware of it, not even the deacon. It was 
true that the fellow spoke, as it might be, 
from his throat only, and that his voice 
was hollow, and sometimes reduced to a 
whisper ; but he ascribed this, himself, to 
the circumstance that he had taken a 
cold. Whether the deacon believed this 
account or not, it might be difficult to 
sav ; but he appeared to give it full credit. 
Perhaps his mind was so much occupied 
with the subject of his discussion with 
Daggett that it did not sufficiently advert 
to the real condition of the man. 

Twice that afternoon did Deacon Pratt 
go between the cottage of the Widow 
White and .... _ wn dwelling. As often 
did the relict fly across the way to express 
her wonder to the Widow Stone at the 
frequency of the rich man’s visits. The 
second time that he came was when he 
saw the whale-boat rounding the end of 
Shelter Island, and he perceived, by means 
of his glass, that Dr. Sage wasinit. At 
this sight the deacon hurried off to the 
cottage again, having something to say to 
Daggett that could no longer be delayed. 

<¢The whale-boat will soon be in,’’ he 
observed, as soon as he had taken his seat, 
“‘and we shall shortly have the doctor 
here. That young Gar’ner does what he 
has to do, always, with a jerk! There 
was no such haste, but he seems to be 
ever in a hurry !”’ 

“<Do what is to be done at once, and 
then lie by, is the sailor’s rule, deacon,”’ 


At the 


23 


rejoined the mariner. ‘‘Squalls, and gusts, 
and reefin’, and brailin’ up, and haulin’ 
down, won’t wait for the seaman’s leisure. 
His work must be done at once, or it will 
not be done at all. I’m not afeard of the 
doctor; so let him come as soon as he 
pleases. Medicine can’t hurt a body, if 
he don’t take it.”’ 

“‘There’s one thing I wish to say to you, 
Daggett, before Dr. Sage comes in. Talk- 
ing too much may excite you, especially 
talking of matters that are of interest ; 
and you may give him a false impression 
of your state should you get the pulse up 
and the cheek flushed by overtalking.’’ 

‘‘*T understand you, deacon. My secret 
is my secret, and no doctor shall get it out 
of me as long as | know what I say. I’m 
not so friendly with them as to seek coun- 
sel among doctors.”’ 

«Then it’s the Lord’s day,’’ added the 
Pharisee, ‘‘and it is not seemly to dwell 
too much on worldly interests on the Sab- 
bath.’’ 

A novice might have been surprised, 
after what had passed, at the exceeding 
coolness with which the deacon uttered 
this sentiment. Daggett was not so in 
the least, however ; for he had taken the 
measure of his new confidant’s conscience, 
and had lived long enough to know how 
marked was the difference between pro- 
fessions and practice. Nothing, indeed, is 
more common than to meet with those 
who denounce that in others which is of 
constant occurrence with themselves; and 
who rail at vices that are so interwoven 
with their own moral being as to compose 
integral portions of their existence. As 
for the deacon, he really thought it would 
be unseemly, and of evil example, for Dag- 
gett to converse with Dr. Sage touching 
these doubloons on the Lord’s day; while 
he had felt no scruples himself, a short 
hour before, to make them the theme of a 
long and interesting discussion in his own 
person. It might not repay us for the 
trouble to look for the salve that the 
worthy man applied to his own conscience 
by way of reconciling the apparent contra- 
diction ; though it probably was connected 
with some fancied and especial duty on his 
part of taking care of the sick man’s se- 


24 


crets. Sickness, it is well known, forms 
the apology for many an error, both of 
omission and commission. 

Dr. Sage now arrived ; a shrewd, ob- 
servant, intelligent man, who had formerly 
represented the district in which he lived 
in Congress. He was skillful in his pro- 
fession, and soon made up his mind con- 
cerning the state of his patient. As the 
deacon never left him for a moment, to 
him he first communicated his opinion, 
after the visit, as the two walked back 
toward the well-known dwelling of the 
Pratts. . 

<‘This poor man is in the last stages of 
a decline,’’ said the physician cooliy, ‘“‘ and 
medicine can do him no good. He may 
live a month; though it would not sur- 
prise me to hear of his death in an 
hour.”’ 

‘““Do you think his time so short!’ 
exclaimed the deacon; ‘‘I was in hopes 
he might last until the Sea Lion goes 
out, and that a voyage might help to set 
him up.”’ 

“Nothing will ever set him up again, 
deacon, you may depend on that. No sea- 
voyage will do him any good; and it is 
better that he should remain on shore, on 
account of the greater comforts he will 
get. Does he belong on Oyster Pond ?”’ 

“He comes from somewhere east,’’ 
answered the deacon, careful not to let 
the doctor know the place whence the 
stranger had come, though to little pur- 
pose, as will presently be seen. ‘‘ He has 
neither friend nor acquaintance here ; 
though I should think his effects sufficient 
to meet all charges.”’ 

‘‘Should they not be, he is welcome to 
my visit,’’ answered the doctor, promptly; 
for he well understood the deacon’s motive 
in making the remark. ‘‘Il have enjoyed 
a pleasant sail across the bays with young 
Gar’ner, who has promised to take me 
backagain. ILlike boating, and am always 
better for one of these sailing excursions. 
Could I carry my patients along, half of 
them would be benefited by the pure air 
and the exercise.”’ 

*“Tt’s a grateful thing to meet with one 
of your temperament, doctor; but Dag- 
gett—”’ 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


“Is this man named Daggett? ”’ inter- 
rupted the physician. 

**T believe that is what he calls himself, 
though a body never is certain of what 
such people say.”’ ) 

‘‘That’s true, deacon; your rambling, 
houseless sailor is commonly a great liar 
—at least, so have I always found him. 
Most of their log-books will not do to read ; 
or, for that matter, to be written out, in 
full. But if this man’s name is really 
Daggett, he must come from the Vine- 
yard. There are Daggetts there in scores ; 
yes, he must be a Vineyard man.”’ 

“There are Daggetts in Connecticut, as 
I know, of a certainty——”’ 

‘*We all know that, for it isa name of 
weight there; but the Vineyard is the 
cradle of the breed. The man has a Vine- 
yard look about him, too. I dare say, 
now, he has not been home for many a 
day.”’ 

The deacon was in an agony. He was 
menaced with the very thing he was in 
the hope of staving off, or a discussion on 
the subject of the sick man’s previous life. 
The doctor was so mercurial and quick 
of apprehension, that, once fairly on the 
scent, he was nearly certain he would ex- 
tract everything from the patient. This 
was the principal reason why the deacon 
did not wish to send for him; the expense, 
though a serious objection to one so nig- 
gardly, being of secondary consideration 
when so many doubloons were at stake. 
It was necessary, however, to talk on 
boldly, as any appearance of hesitation 
might excite the doctor’s distrust. The 
answers, therefore, came instantaneously. 

“It may be as you say, doctor,” re- 
turned the deacon; ‘‘for them Vineyard 
folks (Anglicé folk) are great wanderers.”’ 

“That are they. I had occasion to pass 
a day there, a few years since, on my 
way to Boston, and I found five women on 
the island to one man. It must be a par- 
ticularly conscientious person who could 
pass a week there, and escape committing 
the crime of bigamy. As for your bache- 
lors, [have heard that a poor wretch of 
that description, who unluckily found him- 
self cast ashore there, was married three 
times the same morning.”’ 


THE 


As the doctor was a little of a wag, 
Deacon Pratt did not deem it necessary 
religiously to believe all that now escaped 
him; but he was glad to keep him in this 
vein, in order to prevent his getting again 
on the track of Daggett’s early life. The 
device succeeded, Martha’s Vineyard be- 


ing a standing joke for all in that quarter: 


of the world, on the subject of the ladies. 

Mary was in the porch to receive her 
uncle and the physician. It was unneces- 
sary for her to ask any questions, for her 
speaking countenance said all that was 
required, in order to obtain an answer. 

‘‘He’s in a bad way, certainly, young 
lady,’’ observed the doctor, taking a seat 
on one of the benches, ‘‘ and I can give no 
hope. How long he may live is another 
matter. If he has friends whom he wishes 
to see, or if he has any affairs to settle, 
the truth should be told him at once, and 
no time lost.”’ ' 

“¢He knows nothing of his friends,’’ in- 
terrupted the deacon, quite thrown off his 
guard by his own eagerness, and uncon- 
scious, at the moment, of the manner in 
which he was committing himself on the 
subject of a knowledge of the sick man’s 
birthplace, ‘‘not having been on the 
Vineyard, or heard from there, since he 
first left home, quite fifty years since.”’ 

The doctor saw the contradiction, and it 
set him thinking and conjecturing, but he 
was too discreet to betray himself. An 
explanation there probably was, and he 
trusted to time to ascertain it. 

‘“What has become of Captain Gar’- 
ner?’ he asked, looking curiously around, 
as if he expected to find him tied to the 
niece’s apron-string. 

Mary blushed, but she was too innocent 
to betray any real confusion. 

«He has gone back to the schooner, in 
order to have the boat ready for your re- 
turn.”’ 

“And that return must take place, 
young lady, as soon as I have drunk two 
cups of your tea. I have patients at the 
Harbor who must yet be visited this even- 
ing, and the wind goes down with the 
sun. Let the poor man take the draughts 
I have left for him—they will soothe him, 
and help his breathing—more than this 


SHA LIONS. | 25 


my skill can do nothing for him. Deacon, 
you need say nothing of this visit—I am 
sufficiently repaid by the air, the sail, and 
Miss Mary’s welcome. I perceive that 
she is glad to see me, and that is some- 
thing, between so young a woman and so 
old aman. And now for the two cups of 
tea.”’ 

The tea was drunk, and the doctor took 
his leave, shaking his head as he repeated 
to the niece that the medical science could 
do nothing for the sick man. 

‘Let his friends know his situation at 
once, deacon,” he said, as they walked 
toward the wharf where the whale-boat 
was all ready for a start. ‘‘ There is not 
an hour to lose. Now I think of it, the 
Flash, Captain Smith, is to take a cargo 
of oil to Boston, and sails to-morrow. I 
can write a line by her, as it is ten to one 
she will go into the Hole. All our craft 
get into that Hole, or into Tarpaulin Cove, 
before they venture across the Shoals; 
and a letter addressed to any person of 
the name of Daggett might find the right 
man. I'll write it this very evening.”’ 

The announcement of this intention 
threw the deacon into a cold-sweat, but 
he did not think it prudent to say aught 
against it. He had bought the Sea Lion, 
engaged Roswell Gardiner, and otherwise 
expended a large sum of money, in the ex- 
pectation of handling those doubloons, to 
say nothing of the furs; and here was a 
chance of all his calculations being de- 
feated by the interference of impertinent 
and greedy relatives! There was no rem- 
edy but patience, and this the deacon en- 
deavored to exercise. 

Deacon Pratt did not accompany the 
doctor beyond the limits of his own 
orchard. It was not deemed seemly for 
a member of the meeting to be seen walk- 
ing out on the Sabbath, and this was re- 
membered in season to prevent neighborly 
comments. It is true the doctor might 
furnish an apology; but you strictly re- 
ligious people, when they undertake the 
care of other people’s consciences, do not 
often descend to these particulars. 

No sooner had Gardiner and the phy- 
sician re-embarked, than the deacon re- 
turned to the cottage of the Widow White. 


26 WORKS OF 
Here he had another long and searching 
discourse with the sick mariner. Poor 
Daggett was wearied with the subject ; 
but Dr. Sage’s predictions of an early ter- 
mination of the case, and the possibility 
that kinsmen might cross over from the 
‘* Vineyard,’’ in order to learn what the 
long-absent man had in his possession, 
acted on him as keen incentives. By learn- 
ing the most material facts now, the Sea 
fnon might get so far ahead of all com- 
petitors as to secure the prizes, evenshould 
Daggett let others into the secret, and 
start another vessel on the same expedi- 
tion. His own schooner was nearly ready 
for sea, whereas time would be needed in 
order to make an entire outfit. 

But Daggett did not appear to be dis- 
posed to be more communicative than 
heretofore. He went over the narrative 
of the discovery of the sealing-island, and 
gave a graphic account of the number 
and tame condition of the animals who 
frequented it. Aman might walk in their 
midst without giving the smallest alarm. 
In a word, all that a gang of good hands 
would: have to do would be to kill and 
skin, and secure the oil. It would be 
like picking up dollars on a sea-beach. 
Sadly ! sadly! indeed, was the deacon’s 
cupidity excited by this account; a vivid 
picture of whales or seals having some 
such effect on the imagination of a true 
Suffolk County man, or more properly on 
that of an East-ender, as those who live 
beyond Riverhead are termed, as a glow- 
ing account of a prairie covered with 
wheat has on that of a Wolverine or a 
Buckeye; or an enumeration of cent. per 
cent. has on the feelings of a Wall Street 
broker. Never before had Deacon Pratt 
been so much ‘‘ exercised ’’? with a love of 
Mammon. The pirate’s tale, which was 
also recapitulated with much gusto, scarce 
excited him as much as Daggett’s glow- 
ing account of the number, condition, and 
size of the seals. 

Nothing was withheld but the latitudes 
and longitudes. No art of the deacon’s, 
and he practiced many, could extort from 
the mariner these most material facts, 
without which all the rest were useless ; 
and the old man worked himself into a 


FENIMORE COOPER. 


fever almost as high as that which soon 
came over Daggett in the effort to come 
at these facts—but all in vain. 

At that hour the pulse of the sick man 
usually quickened ; but on this occasion it 
fairly thumped. He had excited himself 
as well as his listener; and the inconsid- 
erate manner in which both had yielded 
up their energies to these enticing images 
of wealth contributed largely to increase 
the evil. At length exhaustion came to 
put an end to the scene, which was get- 
ting to be dramatic as well as revolting. 

So conscious was the deacon on return- 
ing home that evening, that his mind was 
not in such a condition as it behooved him 
to keep it on the Lord’s day, that he was 
afraid to encounter the placid eye of his 
devout and single-minded niece. Instead 
of joining her and uniting in the services 
that were customary at that hour, he 
walked in the adjoining orchard until 
near nine o’clock. Mammon was upper- 
most in the place of the Deity, and habit 
offered too strong a barrier to permit him 
to bring, as it were, the false god openly 
into the presence of the true. 


CHAPTER IV. 


‘‘Oh! mourn not for them, their grief is o’er, 
Oh! weep not for them, they weep no more; 
For deep is their sleep, though cold and hard 
Their pillow may be in the old kirk-yard.”’ 

—BAYLY. 


EARLY on the succeeding morning the 
whole household of Deacon Pratt, him- 
self included, were up and doing. It was 
as the sun came up out of the waters that 
Mary and her uncle met in the porch, as 
if to greet each other. 

<“Yonder comes the Widow White, and 
seemingly in a great hurry,’’ said the 
niece, anxiously. ‘‘I am afraid her pa- 
tient is worse !’’ 

‘He seemed better when I left him last 
evening, though a little tired with talk- 
ing,’’ returned the uncle. ‘‘The man 
would taik, do all I could to stop him. I 
wanted to get but two or three words 
from him, and he used a thousand, with- 
out once using the few I wished most to 


THE SHA LIONS. 


hear. A talking man is that Daggett, I 
can tell you, Mary !” 

‘‘He’ll never talk ag’in, deacon !”’ ex- 
claimed the Widow White, who had got 
so near as to hear the concluding words 
of the last speaker—‘‘He’ll never say 
good or evil more!”’ 

The deacon was so confounded as to be 
speechless. As for Mary, she expressed 
her deep regrets that the summons should 
have been so sudden, and that the pre- 
vious preparation was so small; matters 
that gave her far more concern than any 
other consideration. They were not long 
left to conjectures, the voluble widow 
soon supplying all the facts that had oc- 
curred. It appeared that Daggett died 
in the night, the widow having found him 
stiff and cold on visiting his bedside a 
few minutes before. That this somewhat 
unexpected event, as to the time at least, 
was hastened by the excitement of the 
conversation mentioned, there can be lit- 
tle doubt, though no comment was made 
on the circumstance. The immediate 
cause of death was suffocation from the 
effects of suppuration, as so often occurs 
in rapid consumption. 

It would be representing Deacon Pratt 
as 2 worse man than he actually was, to 
say that this sudden death had no effect 
on his feelings. For a short time it 
brought him back to a sense of his own 
age, and condition, and prospects. For 
half an hour these considerations troubled 
him, but the power of Mammon gradually 
resumed its sway, and the unpleasant im- 
ages slowly disappeared in others that he 
found more agreeable. Then he began 
seriously to bethink him of what the cir- 
cumstances required to be done. 

As there was nothing unusual in the 
death of Daggett, the investigations of 
the coroner were not required. It was 
clearly a natural, though a sudden death. 
It remained, therefore, only to give direc- 
tions about the funeral, and to have an 
eye to the safe-keeping of the effects of the 
deceased. The deacon assumed the duty 
of taking charge of everything. The 
chest of Daggett was removed to his 
house for safe-keeping, the key having 
been taken from the pocket of his vest, 


19? 


27 


and the necessary orders were given for 
the final disposition of the body. 

The deacon had another serious, and 
even painful half hour, when he first 
looked upon the corpse. There it lay, a 
senseless shell, deserted by its immortal 
tenant, and totally unconscious of that 
subject which had so lately and so intense- 
ly interested them both. It appeared as 
if the ghastly countenance expressed its 
sense of the utter worthlessness of all 
earthly schemes of wealth and happiness. 
Eternity seemed stamped upon the 
pinched and sunken features ; not eternity 
in the sense of imperishable matter, but in 
the sense of the fate of man. Had all the 
gold of the Indies jaid within his reach, 
the arm of Daggett was now powerless to 
touch it. His eye could no longer gloat 
upon treasure, nor any part of his cor- 
poreal system profit by its possession. A 
more striking commentary on the vanity 
of human wishes could not, just then, 
have been offered to the consideration of 
the deacon. His moral being was very 
strangely constituted. From early child- 
hood he had been accustomed to the cant 
of religion; and, in many instances, im- 
pressions had been made on him that pro- 
duced effects that it was easy to confound 
with the fruits that real piety brings 
forth. 

This is a result that we often find in a 
state of society in which appearances are 
made to take the place of reality. What 
is more, it is a result that we may look 
for equally among the formalists of estab- 
lished sects, and among the descendants 
of those who once deserted the homes of 
their fathers in order to escape from the 
impiety of so meretricious an abuse of 
the substance of godliness. In the case 
of the latter, appearances occupy the mind 
more than that love of God which is the 
one great test of human conversion from 
sin to an improving state of that holiness, 
without which we are told no man shall 
see his Creator; without which, indeed, 
no man could endure to look upon that 
dread Being face to face. 

The deacon had all the forms of godli- 
ness in puritanical perfection. He had 
never taken the ‘‘name of his God in 


28 


vain,’’ throughout the course of a long 
life; but he had abstained from this re- 
volting and gratuitous sin, more because 
it was a part of the teachings of his 
youth so to do, and because the neighbors 
would have been shocked at its commis- 
sion, than because he felt the deep rever- 
ence for his Maker, which it became the 
insignificant being that was the work of 
His hand to entertain; and which would, 
of itself, most effectually have prevented 
-any wanton use of His holy name, let the 
neighbors feel or think as they might on 
the subject. In this way Deacon Pratt 
might be said to have respected most of 
the commands of the Decalogue; not, how- 
ever, because the spirit of God impelled 
him, through love. to reverence and obey, 
but because he had been brought up in a 
part of the country where it was con- 
sidered seemly and right to be moral, to 
the senses, at least, if not to the all-seeing 
eye above. 

It was in this way that the deacon had 
arrived at his preferment in the meeting. 
He had all the usual sectarian terms at the 
end of his tongue; never uttered a care- 
less expression ; was regular at meeting ; 
apparently performed all the duties that 
his church required of its professors, in the 
way of mere religious observances; yet 
was he as far from being in that state 
which St. Paul has described succinctly as 
‘for me to live is Christ, and to die is 
gain,’’ as if he had beena pagan. It was 
not the love of God that was active in his 
soul, but the love of self ; and he happened 
to exhibit his passion under these re- 
strained and deceptive forms, simply 
because he had been born and educated in 
a State of society where they composed an 
integral part of existence. Covetousness 
was the deacon’s besetting sin; and, as it 
is a vice that may be pretty well con- 
cealed, with a little, attention to appear- 
ances, it was the less likely to expose him 
to comments than almost any other sin. 
It is true, that the neighborhood some- 
times fancied him ‘‘close,’’? or, as they 
expressed it, ‘‘cluss,’? and men got to 
look sharply to their own interests in their 
dealings with him; but, on the whole, 
there was perhaps more reason to appre- 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


hend, in such a community, that the 
example of so good a man should be 
accepted as authority, than that his acts 
should impeach his character, or endanger 
his standing. 

Very different were the situation, feel- 
ings, and motives of the niece. She de- 
voutly loved God, and, as a consequence, 
all of those whom He had created and 
placed around her. Her meek and gentle 
spirit led her to worship in sincerity and 
truth; and all that she thought, said, 
and did, was under the correction of the 
principles such motives could best pro- 
duce. .Her woman’s love for Roswell 
Gardiner alone troubled her otherwise 
happy and peaceful existence. That, in- 
deed, had caused her more than once to 
falter in her way ; but she struggled with 
the weakness, and had strong hopes of 
being able to overcome it. To accept of 
any other man as a husband was, in her 
eyes, impossible; with the feelings she 
was fully conscious of entertaining toward 
him, it- would have been both indelicate 
and unjust; but to accept him, while he 
regarded the Redeemer as only man, how- 
ever pure and exalted, she felt would be 
putting herself willingly, or willfully, into 
the hands of the great enemy of her sal- 
vation. Often and often had she prayed 
for her lover, even more devoutly, and 
with hotter tears, than she had ever 
prayed for herself; but, so far as she 
could discover, without any visible fruits. 
His opinions remained unchanged, and his 
frank nature forbade him from concealing 
their state from Mary. In this way, then, 
was unhappiness stealing on the early and 
innocent hours of one who might, other- 
wise, have been so contented and blessed. 
It formed a somewhat peculiar feature in — 
her case, that her uncle favored the views 
of her suitor. This rendered the trials of 
the niece so much the more severe, as she 
had no other judgment to sustain her 
than her own, fortified as that was, how- 
ever, by the consciousness of right, and 
the support of that great Power which 
never deserts the faithful. 

Such was the state of feeling among 
some of the principal actors of our 
tale, when the sudden death of Daggett 


THE SEA LIONS. 


occurred. The body was not removed 
from the house of the Widow White, out 
the next morning it was conveyed to the 
‘« srave-yard ’’—‘‘ church - yard’’ would 
have sounded too episcopal—and_ interred 
in a corner that was bestowed on the un- 
honored and unknown. It wasthen, only, 
that the deacon believed he was the sole 
depository of the important secrets. He 
had the charts in his possession, and no 
more revelations could pass the lips of 
Daggett. Should the friends of the de- 
ceased sailor hear of his death, and come 
to look after his effects, there was very 
little probability of their finding anything 
among them to furnish a clew to either 
the new sealing ground, or to the buried 
treasure of the pirate. In order to be se- 
cured, he even went a little beyond his 
usual precautions, actually discharging all 


indebtedness of the deceased to the Widow | 


White out of his own pocket, by giving to 
her the sum of ten dollars. This was 
handsome compensation in her eyes as well 
as in his, and he quieted the suspicions so 
great and unusual an act of liberality 
would be apt to awaken, by saying, “‘he 
would look to the friends, or if they failed 
him, to the effects, for his returns; for it 
was better he should lose by the stranger 
than a lone widow.” He also paid for the 
coffin, the digging of the grave, and the 
other light expenses of the interment. In 
a word, the deacon endeavored to hush 
all impertinent inquiries by applying the 
salve of silver wherever it was needed. 
The chest had been removed to a large, 
light closet, that communicated with the 
deacon’s own room. When all his ac- 
counts were settled, thither he repaired, 
armed with the key that was to expose so 
much treasure to his longing eyés. Some 
slight qualms arose, after he had locked 
himself in the room, touching the pro- 
priety of his opening the chest. It was 
- not his, certainly ; but he put such a con- 
struction on the nature of the revelations 
of Daggett, as he thought would fully 
justify him in proceeding. He had pur- 
chased the schooner expressly to go in 
quest of the seals and the treasure. This 
he had done with Daggett’s knowledge 
and acquiescence; nor did he conceive 


29 


that his own rights were lessened by the 
mariner’s decease. As for himself, the 
deacon had never believed that the 
Martha’s Vineyard man could accompany 
the expedition, so that his presence or 
absence could have no influence on his own 
rights. It is true, the deacon possessed 
no direct legal transfer of the charts; but 
he inferred that all the previous circum- 
stances gave him sufficient claims to 
justify him in, at least, looking into their 
contents. 

It was a solemn, as well.as an anxious 
moment to the deacon, when he first raised 
the lid of the chest. Solemn, because it 
was not possible to forget the recent de- 
cease of its late owner, and anxious, inas- 
much as he had no certainty that he 
should find, even on the charts, the places 
of which he sought the latitudes and 
longitudes. Certainly, nothing like treas- 
ure presented itself to his eyes, when all 
that Daggett had left behind him lay ex- 
posed to view. The chest of a common 
sailor is usually but ill-furnished, unless it 
may be just after his return from a long 
and well-paid voyage, and before he has 
had time to fall back on his purchases of 
clothes, as a fund to supply his cravings 
for personal gratification. This of Dag- 
gett’s formed no exception to the rule. 
The few clothes it contained were of the 
lightest sort, having been procured in 
warm climates, and were well worn, in ad- 
dition. The palms, needles, and shells, 
and carving in whalebone, had all been 
sold to meet their owner’s wants, and 
nothing of that sort remained. There 
were two old, dirty, and ragged charts, 
and on these the deacon laid his hands, 
much as the hawk, in its swoop, descends 
on his prey. As it did, however, a tremor 
came over him, that actually compelled 
him to throw himself into a chair, and to 
rest for a moment. 

The first of the charts opened, the dea- 
con saw, at a glance, was that of the 
antarctic circle. There, sure enough, was 
laid down in ink, three or four specks for 
islands, with lat.—°,—’’, and long.—°,—’’, 
written out atits side. We are under 
obligations not to give the figures that 
stand on the chart, for the discovery is 


30 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


deemed to be important, by those who | prised at the gayety of her uncle, and 


possess the secret, even to the present 
hour. We are at liberty to tell the whole 
story, with this one exception; and we 
shall proceed to do so, with a proper re- 
gard to the pledges made in the premises. 

The deacon scarcely breathed, as he 
assured himself of the important fact just 
mentioned, and his hands trembled to 
such a degree as to fairly cause the paper 
of the chart to rattle. Then he had re- 
course to an expedient that was strictly 
characteristic of the man. He wrote the 
latitude and longitude in a memorandum- 
book that he carried on his person ; after 
which he again sat down, and with great 
care erased the islands and the writing 
from the chart, with the point of a pen- 
knife. This done, his mind felt infinitely 
relieved. Nor was this all. Charts pur- 
chased for the schooner were lying on a 
table in his ownroom, and he projected 
on one of them, as well as his skill would 
allow, the sealing-islands he had just re- 
moved from the chart left by Daggett. 
There he also wrote, in pencil, the im- 
portant figures that we are commanded 
not to reveal. 

The second chart was then opened. It 
was of the West Indies, and particularly 
of certain keys. One of these last was 
pointed out in a way to leave no doubt 
that it was meant for the key indicated 
by the pirate. The same prohibition ex- 
isting as to this key that exists in respect 
to the sealing-island, we cannot be more 
explicit. The writing near this key being 
in pencil, it was effectually removed by 
means of india-rubber. When this was 
done, the deacon used the precaution to 
rub some material on the clean place made 
by his knife, on the other chart, when he 
believed no eye could detect what had just 
been done. Having marked the proper 
key on his own chart of the West Indies, 
he replaced the charts of Daggett in the 
chest, and locked all up again. The 
verbal accounts of the sick mariner he 
had already transferred to paper, and he 
now believed himself secure of all the in- 
formation that was necessary to render 
him the richest man in Suffolk ! 

When they next met, Mary was sur- 


that so soon after a funeral. He hada 
lightened heart, however ; for, after lead- ° 
ing him on, step by step, until he had 
gone so far as to purchase and fit out the 
schooner, Daggett had pertinaciously re- 
fused to enter into those minute particu- 
lars which it is even now forbidden us to 


state, and a want of which would have. 


rendered his previous expenditures use- 
less. Death, however, had lifted the veil, 
and the deacon now believed himself secure 
in this knowledge. 

An hour or two later, Deacon Pratt and 
his niece was seated, in company with 
two others, at the dinner-table. The fare 
was simple, but good. Fish enters large- 
ly into the domestic consumption of all 
those who dwell near the water, in that 
part of country; and, on that particular 
occasion, the uncle had, in the lightness 
of his heart, indulged in what, for him, 
was a piece of extravagance. In all such 
regions there are broken-down, elderly 
men who live by taking fish. Liquor has 
usually been their great enemy, and all 
have the same .generic character of lazi- 
ness, shiftless and ill-regulated exertions, 
followed by much idleness, and fits of in- 
temperance, that in the end commonly 
cause their death. Such a man fished 
between Oyster Pond and Shelter Island, 
being known to all who dwelt within 
his beat by the familiar appellation of 
Baiting Joe. 

Shortly after the discovery of the lati- 
tudes and longitudes on the charts, the 
deacon had gone to the wharf, in his im- 
patience to see how Roswell Gardiner got 
on with the Sea Lion. The young man, 
with his gang of hands, was hard at 
work, and a very material difference was 
to be observed in the state of the schooner 
from that in which she was described in 
our opening chapter. Her rigging had 
all been set up, every spar was in its 
place, and altogether she had a look of 
preparation and completeness. Her water 
was taking in, and from time to time a 
country wagon, or an ox-cart, delivered 
alongside articles belonging to her stores. . 
Of cargo proper, there was none, or next 
to none; a sealer carrying little besides 


THE SHA LIONS. 


‘salt, and her stores. In a word, the work 
was rapidly advancing, and ‘‘ Captain 
Gar’ner’’ told his impatient owner that 
the craft would be ready to put to sea in 
all that week. 

«‘T have succeeded in engaging the first 
officer I wanted,’’ added the young man, 
‘and heis now busy in looking up. and 
shipping hands at Stonington.. We must 
get half a dozen reliable men on the main, 
and then we can take some of our neigh- 
bors here as beginners, just to please 
them.”’ 

“Yes, ship a goodly number of green 
hands,”’ said the deacon, zealously. “They 
work at cheap ‘lays,’ and leave the own- 
ers the greater profits. Well, well, Cap- 
tain Gar’ner, things seem to be doing 
well in your hands, and I will leave you. 
About two hours after dinner I shall want 
to have a word with you in private, and 
will thank you just to step across to the 
house, where you will be certain to find 
me. Baiting Joe seems to have hooked 
_ something there, in ’arnest.”’ 

«That has he! Ill answer for it that 
he has a sheepshead at the end of his line 
that will weigh eight or ten pounds.”’ 

The words of Gardiner proved true, for 
Joe actually pulled in a fish of the descrip- 
tion and weight he had just mentioned. 
It was this sight that, in the lightness of 
his heart, tempted the deacon to a little 
extravagance. Joe was called ashore, 
and after a good deal of chaffering, the 
deacon bought the prize for half a dollar. 
As Mary was celebrated for her skill in 
preparing this particular fish, the deacon, 
before he left the wharf with the sheeps- 
head hanging from one hand, fairly in- 
vited ‘‘ Captain Gar’ner’’ so to time his 
visit to the house as to be present at the 
feast. 

Nor was this all. Before the deacon 
had settled with Joe, the Rev. Mr. Whit- 
tle came on the wharf, confessedly in quest 
of something to eat. The regular occu- 
pations of this divine were writing ser- 
mons, preaching, holding conferences, 

marrying, christening, and burying, and 
hunting up “something to eat.’? About 
half of his precious time was consumed in 
the last of these pursuits. We do not 


BiG 


wish to represent this clergyman as hav- 
ing an undue gastronomic propensity ; 
but, as having a due one, and a salary 
that was so badly paid, as quite to dis- 
able him from furnishing his larder, or 
cellar, with anything worth mentioning, 
in advance. Now, he was short of flour ; 
then, the potatoes were out; next, the 
pork was consumed; and always there 
was a great scarcity of groceries, and 
other necessaries of that nature. This 
neglect on the part of the parishioners, 
coupled with a certain improvidence on 
that of the pastor, left the clergyman’S 
family completely in that state which is 
usually described as being in the ‘‘ from 
hand to mouth ”’ condition, and which con- 
sequently occupied so large a portion of 
the good man’s time in ‘‘ providing.”’ 

Deacon Pratt felt a little conscious and 
awkward, at encountering the Rev. Mr. 
Whittle. It was not the fish that caused 
the first any concern. Fifty times had he 
met and gone by his pastor, running about 
with a perplexed and hungry look, when 
his own hands, or chaise, or wagon, as the 
case might be, contained enough to render 
the divine’s family happy and contented 
for a week. No compunctions of that sort 
ever troubled the deacon’s breast. But 
he had missed the afternoon’s meeting in 
the last Sabbath, a delinquency for which 
he felt an awkwardness in accounting, 
while he saw its necessity. The salutations 
passed as usual, the one party thinking 
intently on the absence from service, and 
the other of the sheepshead. Now, it 
happily occurred to the deacon to invite 
his pastor also to partake of the fish. 
There was enough for all; and, though no 
one on Oyster Pond was much in the habit 
of entertaining at dinner, it was by no 
means unusual for the parishioners to 
have their pastor for a guest. This lucky 
invitation so occupied the parties that 
nothing was said about an occurrence so 
very unusual as the deacon’s absence 
from “meeting”? the “last Sabba’ day 
afternoon.”’ 

By these simple means the party at 
table consisted of the deacon himself, 
Mary, Roswell Gardiner, and the Rev. 
Mr. Whittle. The fish was excellent, be- 


32 WORKS 


ing so fresh and so skillfully prepared ; 
and Mary was highly complimented by 
all who ate of it for her share in the en- 
' tertainment. But Mary Pratt seemed 
sad. She had not yet recovered from the 
melancholy feelings awakened by the re- 
cent death and funeral; and then her 
thoughts recurred, with few interruptions, 
to the long voyage of Roswell, and most 
especially to the unhappy state of relig- 
ious belief in which he would undertake so 
hazardous an expedition. Several times 
had she hinted to the clergyman her desire 
that he would ‘‘talk to Roswell; but 
the good man, though well enough in- 
clined, had really so much to do in “ pro- 
viding,’’ that it was not a very easy 
matter for him to go beyond the beaten 
track, in order to probe the consciences 
of particular individuals. He promised 
fairly, but always forgot to perform; and 
in this he imitated closely the example set 
him by his parishioners in reference to his 
own salary. 

Roswell Gardiner, therefore, remained 
in his unbelief; or, what was tantamount 
to it, under the influence of a set of opin- 
ions that conflicted withall that the Church 
had taught since the time of the apostles 
at least so thought Mary, and so think 
we. 

On the contrary, the pastor and the 
deacon were particularly gay for men of 
their habitual sobriety. Although those 
were not the days of temperance, par ex- 
cellence, neither of the guests was what 
might be termed evena moderate drinker. 
For a novelty inasailor, Roswell Gardiner 
seldom touched anything but water, while 
the other two took their rum and water ; 
but it was in moderation, as all the gifts 
of God should be used. As for the intem- 
perate cry which makes it a sin to par- 
take of any liquor, however prudently, it 
was then never heard in the land. On 
the whole, the clergy of all denominations 
might be set down as brandy-and-water 
men, a few occasionally carrying out 
their principle to exaggeration. But the 
Rev. Mr. Whittle was a sober man, and, 
though he saw no great harm in enliven- 


the deacon. 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


never known to be any the worse for his 
libations. It was the same with the dea- 
con, though he drank rum and water of 
choice; and no other beverage, Mary’s 
currant-wine and cider excepted, was ever 
seen on his table. 

One thing may be said of liquor, wheth- 
er it be in its favor or not: it usually 
brings out all there is of the facetious in — 
a man, rendering him conversable and 
pleasant; for the time being at least. 
This was apt to be peculiarly the case 
with the Rev. Mr. Whittle and his dea- 
cons. In their ordinary intercourse with 
their fellow-creatures these good people 
had taken up the idea that, in order to 
be religious, their countenances must be 
somber, and that care and anxiety should 
be stamped on their faces, just as if they 
had no confidence in the efficacy of the 
redemption. Few, indeed, are they who 
vindicate their professions by living at 
peace with God and man! At Oyster 
Pond it was much the fashion to imagine 
that the more a person became impressed 
with the truths of hzs, and particularly 
with those of her, lost condition, the more 
it became the party to be cynical, and to 
pry into, and comment on, the backslid- 
ings of the entire community. This weak- 
ness, however, was characteristic of nei- 
ther the pastor nor the deacon, each of 
whom regarded his professions too much in 
the light of a regular ‘‘ business transac- 
tion,’’ to descend into these little abuses. 
As for Mary, good creature, her humility 
was so profound as to cause her to believe 
herself among the weakest and least 
favored of all who belonged to meeting. 

‘“T was sorry that my late journey into 
Connecticut prevented my seeing the poor 
man who was so suddenly taken away 
from the house of Widow White,’’ ob- | 
served the Rev. Mr. Whittle, some little 
time after he had made his original at- 
tack on the sheepshead. ‘‘ They tell me 
it was a hopeless case from the first ? ”’ 

“So Dr. Sage considered it,’’ answered — 
‘‘Captain Gar’ner volun-— 
teered to go across for the doctor in my 
boat ’’—with a heavy emphasis on the 


ing his heart and cheering his spirits with | possessive pronoun—‘‘ and we had him to 


brandy taken in small quantities, he was 


look at the patient. But, ifthe salt-water 


THE SHA LIONS. 


be good for consumptive people, as some 
pretend, I think there is generally little 
hope for seamen whose lungs once give 
way.’ | 

««The poor man was a mariner, was he? 
I did not know his calling, but had rather 
got the impression that he was a husband- 
man. Did he belong to Oyster Pond ?’’ 
No; we have none of the name of 
. Daggett here, which is a tribe on the Vine- 


yard. Most of the Daggetts are seafaring 


folks (folk, Anglicé), and this man was 
one of that class, I believe; though I 
known nothing of him, or his pursuits, ex- 
cept by a word, here and there, dropped 
in discourse.’’ 

The deacon thought himself safe in 
venturing this little departure from the 
literal truth, inasmuch as no one had been 
present, or he thought no one had ever been 
present at his many secret conferences 
with the deceased mariner. Little, how- 
ever, did he understand the character of 
the Widow White, if he flattered himself 
with holding any discourse under her roof 
in which she was not to participate in its 
subject. So farfrom this having been the 
case, the good woman had contrived to 
obtain, not only a listening-place, but a 
-peeping-hole, where she both heard and 
saw most of that which passed between 
her guest and the deacon. Had _ her 
_ powers of comprehension been equal to 
her will, or had not her mind been pre- 
possessed with the notion that the deacon 
must be after herself, old Suffolk would 
have rung with the marvels that were thus 
revealed. Not only would an unknown 
sealing-island have been laid before the 
Kast-enders, but twenty such islands, and 
keys without number, each of which con- 
tained more hidden treasure than ‘‘ Gar’- 
ner’s Island,’’ Oyster Pond, the Plumb 
and Fisher’s, and all the coasts of the 
Sound put together ; enriched as each and 
all of these places were thought to be by 
hidden deposits of Kidd. 

Nothing but an accident had prevented 
these rumors from being circulated. It 
happened that on only one occasion Dag- 
gett was explicit and connected in his 
narrative. At all other times his dis- 
course was broken, consisting more in 

IV .—2 


33 


allusions to what had been previously 
said than in direct and clear revelations. 
The widow, most unfortunately for her 
means of information, was with “ neigh- 
bor Stone’? when the connected narra- 
tive was given, and all that she knew was 
disjointed, obscure, and a little contradic- 
tory. Still, it was sufficient to set her 
thinking intensely, and sufficient to pro- 
duce a material influence on the future 
fortunes of the Sea Lion, as will appear 
in the sequel. 

‘It is always a misfortune for a 
human being to take his departure away 
from home and friends,’’ observed the 
Rev. Mr. Whittle. ‘‘Here was an im- 
mortal soul left to take its last great 
flight, unsupported, I dare say, except by 
the prayers of a few pious neighbors. I 
regret having been absent during the 
time he was here. Getting home of a 
Friday only, I was compelled to devote 
Saturday to preparations for the Sabbath ; 
and Sabbath-night, as I understand it, 
he departed.’’ 

“We are all in the hands of Divine 
Providence,’’ said the deacon, with a sober 
mien, ‘‘and itis our duty to submit. To 
my thinking, Oyster Pond catches more 
than its share of the poor and needy, who 
are landed from vessels passing east and 
west,and add considerably to our burdens.”’ 

This was said of a spot as much favored 
by Divine Providence, in the way of abun- 
dance, aS any other in highly-favored 
America. Some eight or ten such events 
as the landing of a stranger had occurred 
within the last half century, and this was 
the only instance in which either of them 
had cost the deacon a cent. But, so little 
was he accustomed, and so little was he 
disposed to give, that even a threatened 
danger of that sort amounted, in his eyes, 
nearly to a loss. 

“« Well,”’ exclaimed the literal Roswell 
Gardiner, ‘‘ I think, deacon, that we have 
no great reason to complain. Southold, 
Shelter Island, and all the islands about 
here, for that matter, are pretty well off 
as to poor, and it is little enough that we 
have to pay for their support.”’ 

*‘That’s the idea of a young man who 
never sees the tax-gatherers,’’ returned 


34 WORKS OF 
thedeacon. ‘‘ However, there are islands, 


Captain Gar’ner, that are better off still, 
and I hope you will live to find them.”’ 

‘Ts our young friend to sail in the Sea 
Lion in quest of any such?’’ inquired the 
pastor, a little curiously. 

The deacon now repented him of the 
allusion. But his heart had warmed with 
the subject, and the rum-and-water had 
unlocked some of its wards. So timid and 
nervous had he become, however, that the 
slightest indication of anything like a 
suspicion that his secrets were known, 
threw him into a sweat. 

“Not at all—not at all—the captain 
goes on well-known and beaten ground— 
Sam, what is wanting, now ?”’ 

‘‘Here is Baiting Joe comed up from 
the wharf, wanting to see master,’’ re- 
turned a gray-headed negro, who had 
formerly been a slave, and who now lived 
about the place, giving his services for his 
support. 

‘‘Baiting Joe! He is not after his 
sheepshead, I hope. If he is, he is some- 
what late in the day.”’ 

‘Ay, ay,’’ put in the young sailor, 
laughing. ‘‘Tell him, Sam, that no small 
part of it is bound to the southward, 
meaning to cross the line in my com- 
pany, and that right soon.” 

‘‘T paid Joe his half-dollar, certainly— 
you saw me pay him, Captain Gar’ner.’’ 

‘‘T don’t think it’s any sich thing, mas- 
ter. There is a stranger with Joe, that 
he has ferried across from Shelter Island, 
and he’s comed up from the wharf, too. 
Yes—that’s it, master.’’ 

A stranger! Who could it be? A 
command was given to admit him, and 
no sooner did Mary get a sight of his 
person, than she quietly arose to pro- 
cure a plate, in order that he, too, might 
have his share of the fish. 


CHAPTER V. 


‘Stranger! I fled the home of grief, 
At Connocht Moran’s tomb to fall; 
I found the helmet of my chief, 
His bow still hanging on our wall.” 
—CAMPBELL. 


‘¢ AMPHIBIOUS!”’ exclaimed Roswell 
Gardiner, in an aside to Mary, as the 


FENIMORE COOPER. 


stranger entered the room, following 
Baiting Joe’s lead. The last only came 
for his glass of rum-and-water, served 
with which, by the aid of the negro, he 
passed the back of his hand across his 
mouth, napkin-fashion, nodded his ‘‘ good- 
day,’’ and withdrew. As for the stranger, 
Roswell Gardiner’s term being particu- 
larly significant, it may be well to make 
a brief explanation. 

The word ‘‘amphibious”’ is, or rather 
was, well applied to many of the seamen, 
whalers, and sealers, who dwelt on the 
eastern end of Long Island, or the Vine- 
yard, around Stonington, and perhaps we 
might add, in the vicinity of New Bedford. 
The Nantucket men had not base enough, 
in the way of terra firma, to come properly 
within the category. The class to which 
the remark strictly applied were sailors 
without being seamen, in the severe sig- 
nification of the term. While they could 
do all that was indispensably necessary to 
take care of their vessels, were surpassed 
by no other mariners in enterprise and 
daring, and hardihood, they knew little 
about ‘‘crowning cables,’’ ‘‘ carrick- 
bends,”’ and all the mysteries of ‘‘ knot- 
ting,’ “gaffing,’ and ‘splicing.’ <A 
regular Delaware Bay seaman would have 
turned up his nose in contempt at many of 
their ways, and at much of their real 
ignorance; but, when it came to the drag, 
or to the oar, or to holding out in bad 
weather, or to any of the more manly 
qualities of the business, he would be cer- 
tain to yield his respect to those at whom 
it had originally been his disposition to 
laugh. It might best describe these men 
to say that they bore some such relation 
to the thoroughbred tar as the volunteer 
bears to the regular soldier. 

As a matter of course, the stranger was 
invited to take his seat at the table. This 
he did without using many phrases; and 
Mary had reason to believe, by his appe- 
tite, that he thought well of her culinary 
skill. There was very little of the sheeps- 
head left when this, its last assailant, 
shoved his plate back, the signal that he 
could do no more. He then finished a 
glass of rum-and-water, and seemed to be 
in a good condition to transact the busi- 


THE SEA LIONS. 


ness that had brought him there. Until 
this moment, he had made no allusion to 
the motive of his visit, leaving the deacon 
full of conjectures. 

“The fish of Peconic and Gar’ner’s is as 
good as any I know,”’’ coolly observed this 
worthy, after certainly having established 
some claim to give an opinion on the sub- 
ject. ‘We think ourselves pretty well 
off, in this respect, on the Vineyard——”’ 

‘On the Vineyard!’ interrupted the 
deacon, without waiting to hear what was 
to follow. 

** Yes, sir, on Martha’s Vineyard, for 
that’s the place I come from. Perhaps I 
ought to have introduced myself a little 
more particularly. I come from Martha’s 
Vineyard, and my name is Daggett.’’ 

The deacon fairly permitted the knife, 
with which he was spreading some but- 
ter, to fall upon his plate. ‘‘ Daggett ”’ 
and the ‘‘ Vineyard ’’ sounded ominously. 
Could it be that Dr. Sage had managed 
to get a message so far, in so short a 
time; and had this amphibious inhabitant 
of the neighboring island come already to 
rob him of his treasure? The perceptions 
of the deacon, at first, were far from 
clear ; and he even imagined that all he 
had expended on the Sea Lion was 
thrown away, and that he might be even 
called on to give some sort of an account, 
in a court of chancery, of the information 
obtained from the deceased. A. little re- 
flection, however, sufficed to get the bet- 
ter of this weakness, and he made a civil 
inclination of his head, as much as to tell 
the stranger, notwithstanding his name 
and place of residence, that he was wel- 
come. Of course, no one but the deacon 
himself knew of the thoughts that troubled 
him, and, after a very brief delay, the 
guest proceeded with his explanations of 
the object of his visit. 

“The Daggetts are pretty numerous on 
the Vineyard,’’ continued the stranger, 
‘fand when you name one of them, it is 
not always easy to tell just what family 
he belongs to. One of our coasters came 
into the Hull (Holmes’ Hole was meant) 
a few weeks since, and reported that she 
spoke an inward-bound brig, off New 
Haven, from which she heard that the 


39 


people of that craft had put ashore, at 
Oyster Pond, a seafaring man who be- 
longed to the Vineyard, and who was 
bound home arter an absence of fifty 
years, and whose name was Thomas Dag- 
gett. The word passed through the island, 
and a great stir it made among all us 
Daggetts. There’s plenty of our Vine- 
yard people wandering about the ’arth, 
and sometimes one drops in upon the 
island, just to die. As most of them that 
come back bring something with them, 
it’s generally thought a good sign to hear 
of their arrival. After casting about, 
and talking with all the old folks, it has 
been concluded that this Thomas Daggett 
must be a brother of my father’s, who 
went to sea about fifty years since, and 
has never been seen or heard of since. 
He’s the only person of the name for 
whom we can’t account, and the family 
have got me to come across to look 
him up.’’ 

“T am sorry, Mr. Daggett, that you 
are so late,’’ answered the deacon, slowly, 
as if unwilling to give pain. ‘‘Had you 
come last week, you,might have seen and 
conversed with your relation; or had you 
come early this morning, only, you might 
have attended his funeral. He came 
among us a Stranger, and we endeavored 
to imitate the conduct of the good Sa- 
maritan. I believe he had all the comforts 
that Oyster Pond can give; and, cer- 
tainly, he had the best advice. Dr. Sage, 
of Sag Harbor, attended him in his last 
illness—Dr. Sage, of the Harbor; doubt- 
less you have heard him mentioned ? ”’ 

*‘T know him by reputation, and make 
no doubt all was done that could be done, 
As the sloop I named lay by the brig some 
time, in a calm, the two captains had a 
long talk together; and ours had pre- 
pared us to hear of our kinsman’s speedy 
dissolution. He was in a decline when he 
landed, and we suppose that no human 
skill could have saved him. As he had 
so skillful a physician, and one who came 
so far, I suppose my uncle must have left 
property ?”’ 

This was a home thrust; but, fortu- 
nately for the deacon, he had already 
prepared himself with an answer. 


36 


*‘Seafaring men, that are landed on 
points and capes from inward-bound ves- 
sels, are not very apt to be overloaded 
with worldly goods,’’ he said, smiling. 
** When a man prospers in that calling, 
he usually comes ashore at a wharf, in 
some large place, and gets into his coach 
to ride up to some grand tavern! I have 
remarked, pastor, that seafaring men love 
comforts and free-living, unaccountably, 
when they can fairly get a chance at ’em.’’ 

‘That is natural, deacon—quite natu- 
ral; and what is natural, is very likely to 
happen. The natural man loves all sorts 
of indulgences, and these among others.”’ 

As there was no gainsaying this com- 
monplace commentary on the species, it 
was permitted to pass unanswered. 

“‘T hope my kinsman has not been a 
burden to any on Oyster Pond ?’’ said the 
nephew, inquiringly. 

‘‘T cannot say that he has,’’ returned 
the deacon. ‘‘He was at little cost at 
first, and got along by selling a few odd 
things that he owned. As Providence 
had placed him in the dwelling of a poor 
widow, I thought it might be pleasing to 
the friends—and every man has some 
friends, I suppose—to settle with her. 
This I did, this very morning, taking her 
receipt in full, as you can see,” passing 
the paper to the stranger. ‘“‘ As a sort of 
security for my advances, I had the chest 
of the deceased removed to this house; 
and it is now upstairs, ready to be exam- 
ined. It feels light, and I do not think 
much silver or gold will be found in it.’’ 

To own the truth, the Vineyard sea- 
man looked a little disappointed. It was 
so natural that a man who has been ab- 
sent fifty years should bring back the 
fruits of his labor, that he had expected 
some slight reward for the trouble he was 
now taking, to be bestowed in this par- 
ticular form. This, however, was not the 
Specific object of his visit, as will appear 
as we proceed. Keeping in view his real 
motive, the nephew continued his  in- 
quiries, always putting his questions a 
little. indirectly, and receiving answers 
that were as evasive and cautious as his 
own interrogatories. 

All this was characteristic of the wary 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


people from which both had sprung, who 
Seldom speak, in a matter of business, 
without bearing in mind all the possible 
constructions of what they are saying. 
After a discourse of some fifteen minutes, 
in which the history of the chest, in its 
outlines, was fully given, and during which 
the stranger produced written evidence 
of his right to interfere, it was determined 
to make an inventory, on the spot, of the 
property left by Daggett, for the benefit 
of all who might have any interest in it. 
Accordingly, the whole party, including 
Mary, was soon assembled in the deacon’s 
own room, with the sea chest placed in- 
vitingly in the center. All eyes were fast- 
ened on the lid, in curious anticipations of 
the contents; for, the deacon excepted, 
all supposed that those contents were a 
profound secret. The Widow White could 
have told them better, she having rum- 
maged that chest a dozen times, at least, 
though without abstracting even a pin. 
Curiosity had been her ruling motive, far 
more than cupidity. It is true, the good 
woman had a prudent regard to her own 
interests, and felt some anxiety to learn 
the prospects of her receiving the stipu- 
lated price for board—only $1.50 per week 
—but the sales of the needles, and palms, 
and carved whalebone, having kept her 
accounts reasonably square, solicitude on 
this particular interest was not at its 
height. No; curiosity, pure female curi- 
osity, a little quickened by the passion 
which is engendered among the vulgar by 
the possession of a slight degree of in- 
struction, was really at the bottom of her 
researches. 

Not only had she handled every article 
in the chest, but she had read, and re- 
read, every paper it contained, half a 
dozen letters included, and made her own 
surmises on their nature. Still, the good 
woman was very little the wiser for her 
inquiries. Of the great secret she knew 
absolutely nothing, unless the broken hints 
collected in her many listenings, could be 
so considered. But here her ignorance 
ceased. Every hole in a shirt, every patch 
ina pair of trowsers, and every darn in 
a stocking, had been examined, and its 
probable effect on the value of the gar- 


THE SHA LIONS. 


ment duly estimated. The only thing 
that had escaped her scrutiny was a small 
till that was locked. Into that she could 
not look, and there were moments when 
she would have parted with a finger in 
order to overhaul it. 

“This jacket might sell fora dollar,” 
had the Widow White calculated, ‘‘ but 
for the hole in the elbow; and that well 
patched, would bring seventy-five cents. 
Them trowsers must have cost two dol- 
lars, but they aren’t worth half-price now. 
That pea-jacket is the best article in the 
chest, and, sent across to the Harbor, 
about the time the ships are going out, it 
would bring enough to maintain Daggett 
a month !”’ 

Such had been the character of the 
widow’s visitations to the chest, though 
no one knew anything of her discoveries, 
not even her sister-relict, neighbor Stone. 

“‘Here is the key,’’ said the deacon, 
producing that instrument from the 
drawer of a table, as if he had laid it 
carefully aside for some such moment. 
*“T dare say it will be found to fit, for I 
remember to have seen Daggett use it 
once or twice myself.”’ 

Roswell Gardiner, as the youngest 
man, and the one on whom the labor- 
ing oar ought to fall, now took the key, 
applied it to the lock, turned it without 
difficulty, and then lifted the lid. Disap- 
pointment appeared on every face but that 
of the deacon, at the meager prospect 
before the company. Not only was the 
chest more than half empty, but the ar- 
ticles it did contain were of the coarsest 
materials ; well-worn sea clothes that had 
seen their best days, and which had never 
been more than the coarse, common attire 
of a foremast hand. 

“There is little here to pay a man for 
crossing from the Vineyard,’ observed 
Roswell Gardiner, a little dryly ; for he 
did not half like the appearance of cupid- 
ity that shone through the nephew’s 
tardy concern for the fate of the uncle. 
“The last voyage has not been prosper- 
ous, I fear, or the owners failed before the 
vessel got in! What is to be done with 
all this dunnage, deacon ? ”’ 

“‘It would be best to take out the con- 


37 


tents, article by article,’’ answered the 
other, ‘‘and examine each and all. Now 
that we have made a beginning with the 
inventory, it is best to go through with 
it.” 

The young man obeyed, calling out the 
name of each article of dress, as he raised 
it from its receptacle, and passing it over 
to him who stood there in the character of 
a sort of heir-at-law. The last gave each 
garment a sharp look and prudently put 
his hand into every pocket, in order to 
make sure that it was empty, before he 
laid the article on the floor. Nothing was 
discovered for some time, until a small 
key was found in the fob of a pair of old 
‘““go-ashore’’ pantaloons. As there was 
the till to the chest already mentioned, 
and a lock on that till, the heir-at-law 
kept the key, saying nothing touching 


its existence. 


“The deceased does not appear to have 
been much afflicted with this world’s 
wealth,’’ said the Rev. Mr. Whittle, 
whose expectations, to own the truth, 
had been a little disappointed. ‘‘ This 
may have been all the better for him, 
when the moment of departure drew 
near.”’ 

“‘T dare say he would have borne the 
burden cheerfully,’’? put in Roswell Gar- 
diner, ‘‘ to have been a little more com- 
fortable. JI never knew a person, seaman 
or landsman, who was ever the worse for 
having things snug about him, and for 
holding on to the better end of his cheer, 
as long as he could.”’ | 

“‘Your notion of what is best for man 
as he draws near to his end, Captain Gar’- 
ner,is not likely to be of the most ap- 
proved nature. The sea does not produce 
many very orthodox divines.”’ 

The young sailor colored, bit his lip, 
cast a glance at Mary, and began a near- 
ly inaudible whistle. In a moment he 
forgot the rebuke he had received, and 
laughingly went on with the inventory. 

“Well,’? he cried, ‘‘this is rather a 
poorer outfit than Jack is apt to carry! 
Infit, I suppose it should be called, as 
the poor fellow who owned it was inward 
bound, when he brought up on Oyster 
Pond. You’ll hardly think it worth 


38 / WORKS 


while, Captain Daggett, to take this 
dunnage across to the Vineyard ?”’ 

‘«Tt is scarce worth the trouble, though 
friends and relations may set a value on 
it that strangers do not. I see acouple 
of charts there—will you hand them this 
way, if you please? They may have a 
value with a seafaring man, as old mari- 
ners sometimes make notes that are 
worth as much as the charts themselves. ”’ 

This was said very naturally and sim- 
ply ; but it gave the deacon a good deal 
of concern. Nor was this feeling at all 
lessened by the earnest, not to say eager 
manner in which Daggett, as we shall 
now call this member of the family, spread 
the chart on the bed, and began to pry 
into its records. The particular chart 
first opened in this way, was the one in- 
cluding the antarctic circle, and, of course, 
was that from which the deacon had been 
at so much pains to erase the sealing isl- 
ands that the deceased mariner had laid 
down with so great precision and care. 
It was evident that the Martha’s Vine- 
yard man was looking for something that 
he could not find, and that he felt dis- 
appointment. Instead of looking at the 
chart, indeed, he may be said to have 
been peering at it, in all its holes and 
crannies, of which there were not a few, 
in consequence of the torn condition of the 
paper. Several minutes elapsed ere the 
investigation terminated, the stranger 
seeming, all that time, to feel no interest 
in the remainder of his relation’s ward- 
robe. 

‘This is an old chart, and of the date 
of 1802,’’ observed Daggett, raising him- 
self erect, as a man who has long been 
bent takes the creaks out of his back. 
“‘So old a chart as to be of little use now- 
aday. Our sealers have gone over so 
much of the ground to the southward of 
the two capes, as to be able to do much 
better than this now.”’ 

‘© Your uncle had the appearance of an 
old-fashioned sailor,’’ coldly observed the 
deacon; ‘‘and it may be that he most 
liked old-fashioned charts.’ 

“Tf such was the case he must have 
pretty well forgotten his Vineyard school- 
ing- There is not a woman there who 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


doesn’t know that the latest chart is com- 
monly the best. I own I’m disapp’inted 
somewhat; for the master of the sloop 
gave me to understand he had heard from 
the master of the brig that some valuable 
information was to be found on the old 
gentleman’s charts.’’ 

The deacon started, as here was an in- 
dication that the deceased had talked of 
his knowledge to others, as well as to 
himself! It was so natural for a man like 
Daggett to boast of what his charts were 
worth, that he saw the extreme proba- 
bility that a difficulty might arise from 
this source. It was his cue, however, to 
remain silent, and let the truth develop 
itself in due course. His attention was 
not likely to be drawn aside by the shirts 
and old clothes, for the stranger began 
a second time to examine the chart, and 
what was more, in the high latitudes at 
no great distance from the very spot 
where the sealing islands had been placed, 
and from which they had been so care- 
fully erased. 

** It is unaccountable that a man should 
wear out achart like this, and leave so 
few notes on it!’’ said the Vineyard man, 
much as one complains of a delinquency. 
‘‘Here is white water noted in the mid- 
dle of the ocean, where I daresay no 
other white water was seen but that 
which is made by a fish, and nothing is 
said of any islands. What do you think 
of this, Captain Gar’ner ?’’ laying his fin- 
ger on the precise spot where the deacon 
had been at work so long that very morn- 
ing erasing the islands. “This looks 
well-fingered, if nothing else, eh?”’ 

<‘Tt’s. a shoal laid down in dirt,” an- 
swered Roswell Gardiner, laughing. 
“‘Let’s see; that’s about lat. —° —’, 
and long.—°—". There can be no known 
land thereaway, aS even Captain Cook 
did not succeed in getting as far south. 
That’s been a favorite .spot with the 
skipper for taking hold of his chart. I’ve 
known one of those old-fashioned chaps 
put his hand on a chart, in that way, and 
never miss his holding-ground for three 
years on a stretch. Mighty go-by-rule 
people are some of our whaling-masters, 
in particular, who think they know the 


THE SEA LIONS. 


countenances of some of the elderly fish, 
who are too cunning to let a harpoon get 
fast to ’em.”’ 

““You’ve been often in them seas, I 
some think, Captain Gar’ner?’’ said the 
other, inquiringly. 

‘‘T was brought up in the business, and 
have a hankering for it yet,’’ returned the 
young man, frankly. ‘‘ Nor dol care so 
much for charts. They are well enough 
when a vessel is on her road; but, as 
for whales or seals, the man who wishes 
to find either, in these times, has to look 
for them, as I tell my owner. According 
to reports, the time has been when a craft 
had only to get an offing to fall in with 
something that was worth putting a har- 
poon into; but those days are gone, Cap- 
tain Daggett ; and whales are to be looked 
after, out at sea, much as money is to be 
looked for ashore here.”’ 

‘*Ts the craft 1 saw at the wharf fitting 
out for a whaler, then ?”’ 

«« She is going after luck, and will accept 
of it, in whatever form it may turn up.”’ 

‘She is rather small for the whaling 
business, though vessels of that size have 
done well, by keeping close in upon our 
own coast.”’ 

‘¢We shall know better what she will 
do after she has been tried,’’ returned 
Gardiner, evasively. ‘‘ What do you 
think of her for the Banks of Newfound- 
lane P?”? 

The Martha’s Vineyard man gave his 
brother-tar a quick, impatient glance, 
which pretty plainly said, “‘ tell that to 
the marines,’’ when he opened the second 
chart, which as yet had been neglected. 

«Sure enough,’’ he muttered, in a low 
tone, though loud enough to be heard by 
the keenly attentive deacon; ‘‘here it is 
—a chart of the West Indies, and of all 
the keys !”’ . 

By this casual, spontaneous outbreaking, 
as it might be, the deacon got another clew 
to the stranger’s knowledge, that gave him 
increased uneasiness. He was now con- 
vinced that, by means of the masters of the 
brig and the sloop, such information had 
been sent to the relatives of Daggett as 
had prepared them to expect the very rev- 
elations on which he hoped to establish 


39 


his own fortunes. To what extent these 
revelations had been made, of course he 
could only conjecture ; but there must 
have been a good deal of particularity to 
induce the individual who had come over 
to Oyster Pond to look into the two charts 
so closely. Under the circumstances, 
therefore, he felicitated himself on the pre- 
caution he had so early taken to erase the 
important notations from the paper. 

‘«Captain Gar’ner, your eyes are young- 
er than mine,’’ said the Vineyard man, 
holding the chart up to the light—* will 
you be good enough to look here ?—does it 
not seem as if that key had been noted, 
and the words rubbed off the chart ? ”’ 

This caused the deacon to: peer over 
Roswell Gardiner’s shoulder, and glad 
enough was he to ascertain that the 
stranger had placed his finger on a key 
that must lie several hundred miles from 
that which was supposed to hold the 
buried treasure of the pirates. Some- 
thing like an erasure did appear at the 
indicated point; but the chart was so old 
and dirty, that little satisfaction could 
be had by examining it. Should the in- 
quirer settle down on the key he evi- 
dently had in his eye, all would be well, 
since it was far enough from the spot 
really noted. 

*‘It is strange that so old a seafaring 
man should wear out a chart, and make 
no observations on it!’ repeated the 
stranger, who was both vexed and at a 
loss what to conjecture. ‘‘ All my charts 
are written over and marked off, just as 
if I meant to get out an edition for my- 
self.’’ 

‘*Men differ in their tastes and habits,”’ 
answered Roswell Gardiner carelessly. 
“Some navigators are forever finding 
rocks, and white water, and scribbling on 
their charts, or in the newspapers, when 
they get back; but I never knew any 
good come of it. The men who make the 
charts are most to be trusted. For my 
part, I would not give a sixpence for a 
note made by a man who passes a shoal 
or a rock, in a squall or a gale.’’ 

<“ What would you say to the note of a 
sealer who should lay down an island 
where the seals lie about on the beach 


40 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


like pigs in a pen, sunning themselves ? | anxious to relieve the deacon of an encum- 


Would you not call a chart so noted, a 
treasure ? ”’ 

“That would alter the case, sure 
enough,’’ returned Gardiner, laughing ; 
“though I should not think of looking 
into this chest for any such riches. 
Most of our masters navigate too much 
at random to make their charts of any 
great value. They can find the places 
they look for themselves, but don’t seem 
to know how to tell other people the road. 
I have known my old man lay down a 
shoal that he fancied he saw, quite a 
degree out of the way. Now such a note 
as that would do more harm than good. 
It might make a foul wind of a fair one, 
and cause a fellow to go about, or wear 
ship, when there was not the least occasion 
in the world for doing anything of the 
sort.”’ 

‘© Ay, ay; this will do for nervous men, 
who are always thinking they see danger 
ahead ; but it is different with islands that 
a craft has actually visited. Ido not see 
much use, Deacon Pratt, in your giving 
yourself any further trouble. My uncle 
was not a very rich man, I perceive, and 
I must go to work and make my own 
fortune if I wish more than [ve got 
already. If there is any demand against 
the deceased, I am ready to discharge it.’’ 

This was coming so much to the point 
that the deacon hardly knew what to make 
of it. He recollected his own ten dollars, 
and the covetousness of his disposition so 
far got the better of his prudence as to 
induce him to mention the circumstance. 

“Dr. Sage may have a charge—no 
doubt has one, that ought to be settled, 
but your uncle mainly paid his way as he 
went on. I thought the widow who took 
care of him was entitled to something 
extra, and I handed her ten dollars this 
morning, which you may repay to me or 
not, just as you please.”’ 

Captain Daggett drew forth his wallet, 
and discharged the obligation on the spot. 
He then replaced the charts, and, without 
opening the till of the chest, he shut down 
the lid, locked it, and put the key in his 
pocket, saying that he would cause the 
whole to be removed, much as if he felt 


brance. This done, he asked a direction 
to the dwelling of the Widow White, with 
whom he wished to converse ere he left 
the Point. 

‘‘T shall have the questions of so many 
cousins to answer when I get home;”’ he 
said, smiling, ‘‘that it will never do for 
me to go back without taking all the talk 
I can get with me. If you will be kind 
enough to show me the way, Captain Gar’- 
ner, I will promise to do as much for you 
when you come to hunt up the leavings of 
some old relation on the Vineyard.’’ 

Roswell Gardiner very cheerfully com- 
plied, not observing the look of dissatis- 
faction with which his owner listened to 
the request. Away the two went, then, 
and were soon at the widow’s door. Here 
the young man left his companion, having 
duty to attend -to on board the Sea Lion. 
The Widow White received her guest 
with lively interest, it forming one of the 
greatest pleasures of her existence to be 
imparting and receiving intelligence. 

*‘T dare say you found my uncle a com- 
panionable man,’’ observed the captain, 
as soon aS amicable relations were estab- 
lished between the parties, by means of a 
few flattering remarks on one side and on 
the other. ‘‘The Vineyard folks are gen- 
erally quite conversable.”’ 

‘«‘That he was, Captain Daggett; and 
when the deacon had not been over to per- 
plex him, and wake up the worldly spirit 
in him, he was as well inclined to prepara- 
tion as any sick person I ever waited on. 
To be sure it was different arter the deacon 
had paid him one of his visits.”’ 

«<'Was Deacon Pratt in the habit of com- 
ing to read and pray with the sick ? ” 

‘‘He pray! I don’t believe he as much > 
as went through a single sentence of a 
prayer in all his visits. Their whull talk 
was about islands and seals when they 
was by themselves.”’ 

‘Indeed !’’ exclaimed the nephew, mani- 
festing a new interest in the discourse. 
‘‘And what could they find to say on such 
subjects ? Islands and seals were astrange 
topic for a dying man ?”’ 

“| know it,’’ answered the widow, 
sharply. ‘‘I know’d it at the time; but 


THE SHA LIONS. 


what could a lone woman do to set ’em 
right ; and he a deacon of the meetin’ the 
whull time? Ifthey would talk of worldly 
things at such times, it wasn’t for one like 
me to put ’em right.”’ 

«Then this discourse was held openly 
in your presence—before your face, as it 
might be, ma’am ? ”’ 

‘7 can’t say that it was just that; nor 
was it altogether when my back was 
turned. They talked, and I overheard 
what was said, as will happen when a 
body is about, you know ?”’ 

The stranger did not press the point, hav- 
ing been brought upin what might almost 
be termed a land of listeners. An island 
that is cut off from much communication 
with the rest of the earth, and from which 
two-thirds of the males must be periodi- 
cally absent, would be very likely to reach 
perfection in the art of gossiping, which 
includes that of the listener. 

«“ Yes,’’ he answered, ‘‘ one picks up a 
good deal, he doesn’t know how. Sothey 
talked of islands and seals ?”’ 

Thus questioned, the widow cheerfully 
opened her stores of knowledge. As she 
proceeded in her account of the secret 
conferences between Deacon Pratt and 
her late inmate her zeal became quick- 
ened, and she omitted nothing that 
she had ever heard, besides including a 
great deal that she had not heard. 
But her companion was accustomed 
to such narratives, and knew reason- 
ably well how to make allowances. 
He listened with a determination not to 
believe more than half of what she said, 
and by dint of long experience, he suc- 
ceeded in separating the credible portions 
of the woman’s almost breathless accounts 
from those that ought to have been re- 
garded as incredible, with a surprising 
degree of success. The greatest difficulty 
in the way of comprehending the Widow 
White’s report, arose from the fact that 
she had altogether missed the preliminary 
and most explicit conference. This left so 
much to be understood and inferred, that, 
in her own efforts to supply the deficien- 
cies, she made a great deal of confusion in 
the statements. Captain Daggett was 


fully assured that the deacon knew of the | 


41 


existence of the sealing-island, at least; 
though he was in doubt whether the rumor 
that had been brought to him, touching 
the buried treasure, had also been im- 
parted to this person. The purchase and 
equipment of the Sea Lion, taken in con- 
nection with the widow’s account, were 
enough of themselves to convince one of 
his experience and foresight, that an ex- 
pedition after seal was then fitting out on 
the information derived from his deceased 
relative. Of this much he had no doubt ; 
but he was not able to assure himself quite 
so satisfactorily that the key was to be 
looked at by the way. 

The interview between Captain Daggett 
and the Widow White lasted more than 
an hour. In that time the former had 
gleaned all the information the latter 
could give, and they parted on the best 
terms in the world. It is true that the 
captain gave the widow nothing—he had 
acquitted his conscience on this score, by 
repaying the deacon the money the last 
had advanced—but he listened in the most 
exemplary manner to all she had to say; 
and, with a certain class of vehement talk- 
ers, the most favored being in the world 
is your good listener. Interest had given 
the stranger an air of great attention, and 
the delighted woman had poured out her 
torrent of words in a way that gratified, 
in the highest degree, her intense desire to 
be imparting information. When they 
separated, it was with an understanding 
that letters, on the same interesting sub- 
ject, should pass between them. 

That afternoon, Captain Daggett found 
means to remove the chest of his late kins- 
man, across the bays, to Sag Harbor, 
whither he proceeded himself by the same 
conveyance. ‘There, he passed an hour or 
two in making inquiries touching the state 
of equipment, and the probable time of the 
departure of the Sea Lion. The fitting 
out of this schooner was the cause of a 
good deal of discourse in all that region, 
and the Martha’s Vineyard man heard 
numberless conjectures, but very littie ac- 
curate information. On the whole, how- 
ever, he arrived at the conclusion that 
the Sea Lion would sail within the next 
ten days; that her voyage was to be dis- 


42 WORKS 


tant; that her absence was expected to 
exceed a twelvemonth; and that it was 
thought she had some other scheme in 
view in addition to that of sealing. That 
night, this hardy mariner—half agricul- 
turist as he was—got into his whale-boat, 
and sailed for the Vineyard all alone, tak- 
ing the chest with him. This was noth- 
ing, however; for quite often before had 
he been off at sea, in his boat alone, look- 
ing out for inward bound vessels to pilot. 


—_—_———_ 


CHAPTER VI. 


‘‘ Launch thy bark, mariner! 
Christian, God speed thee ! 
Let loose the rudder-bands, 
Good angels lead thee ! 
‘Set thy sails warily, . 
Tempests will come; 
Steer thy course steadily, 
Christian, steer home !”’ 
—Mrs. SOUTHEY. 


THE visit of Captain Daggett, taken in 
connection with all that he had said and 
done, while on Oyster Pond, and at Sag 
Harbor, had the effect greatly to hasten 
the equipments of the Sea Lion. Deacon 
Pratt knew the characters of the seamen 
of the island too well to trifle in a matter 
ofsomuch moment. How much the Vine- 
yard folks had been told, in reference to 
his great secrets, he did not know; but he 
felt assured that they knew enough, and 
had learned enough in this visit to quicken 
all their desires for riches, and to set them 
in motion toward the antarctic circle, 
With such a people, distance and difficul- 
ties are of no account; a man who has 
been cradling oats to-day, in his own 
retired fields, where one would think am- 
bition and the love of change could never 
penetrate, being ready to quit home at 
twenty-four hours’. notice, assuming the 
marlinspike as he lays aside the fork, and 
setting forth for the uttermost confines of 
the earth, with as little hesitation as an- 
other might quit his home for an ordinary 
journey of a week. Such, did the deacon 
well know, was the character of those 
with whom he had now to deal, and he 
foresaw the necessity of the utmost cau- 
tion, perseverance, diligence, and activity. 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


Philip Hazard, the mate mentioned by 
Roswell Gardiner, was enjoined to lose no 
time; and the men engaged for the voy- 
age soon began to cross the Sound, and 
to make their appearance on board the 
schooner. As for the craft herself, she 
had all that was necessary for her wants 
below hatches ; and the deacon began to 
manifest some impatience for the appear- 
ance of two or three men of particular 
excellence, of whom Phil Hazard was in 
quest, and whom Captain Gardiner had 
made it a point should be obtained. Little 
did the worthy owner suspect that the 
Vineyard people were tampering with 
these very hands, and keeping them from 
coming to terms, in order that they might 
fit out a second Sea Lion, which they had 
now been preparing for near a month ; 
having purchased her at New Bedford, 
with a view to profit by the imperfect in- 
formation that had reached them, through 
the masters of the brig and sloop. The 
identity in the name was accidental, or, 
it might be better to say, had been natu- 
rally enough suggested by the common 
nature of the enterprise ; but, once exist- 
ing, it had been the means of suggesting 
to the Vineyard company a scheme of con- 
founding the vessels, out of which they 
hoped to reap some benefit, but which it 
would be premature now fully to state. 

After a delay of several days, Hazard 
sent across from Stonington a man by 
the name of Watson, who had the repu- 
tation of being a first-class sealer. This 
accession was highly prized; and, in the 
absence of his mates, both of whom were 
out looking for hands, Roswell Gardiner, 
to whom command was’ still novel, con- 
sulted freely with this experienced and 
skillful mariner. It was fortunate for 
the schemes of the deacon that he had 
left his young master still in the dark, as 
respected his two great secrets. Gardiner 
understood that the schooner was to go 
after seals, sea-lions, sea-elephants, and 
all animals of the genus phoca ; but he 
had been told nothing concerning the 
revelations of Daggett or of the real mo- 
tives that had induced him to go so far 
out of his usual course, in the pursuit of 
gain. We say it was fortunate that the 


THH SHA LIONS. 


deacon had been so wary; for Watson 
had no intention whatever to sail out of 
Oyster Pond, having been actually en- 
gaged as the second officer of the rival 
Sea Lion, which had been purchased at 
New Bedford, and was then in active 
state of forwardness in its equipments, 
with a view to compete with the craft 
that was still lying so quietly and uncon- 
sciously alongside of Deacon Pratt’s 
wharf. In a word, Watson was a spy, 
sent across by the Vineyard-men, to as- 
certain all he could of the intentions of 
the schooner’s owner, to worm himself 
into Gardiner’s confidence, and to report, 
from time to time, the state of things 
generally, in order that the Kast-enders 
might not get the start of his real em- 
plovers. 

It is a common boast of Americans that 
there are no spies in their country. This 
may be true in the everyday significa- 
tion of the term, though it is very untrue 
in all others. This is probably the most 
spying country in Christendom, if the look- 
ing into other people’s concerns be meant. 
Extensive and recognized systems of es- 
pionage exist among merchants; and 
nearly every man connected with the 
press has enlisted himself as a sort of 
spy in the interests of politics—many, in 
those of other concerns, also. The reader, 
therefore, is not to run away with im- 
pressions formed under general assertions 
that will scarce bear investigation, and 
deny the truth of pictures that are drawn 
with daguerreotype fidelity, because they 
do not happen to reflect the cant of the 
day. The man Watson, who had par- 
tially engaged.to go out in the Sea Lion, 
Captain Roswell Gardiner, was not only 
a spy, but a spy sent covertly into an 
enemy’s camp, with the meanest motives, 
and with intentions as hostile as the nat- 
ure of the circumstances would permit. 

Such was the state of things on Oyster 
Pond for quite a week after the nephew 
had been to look after the effects of the 
deceased uncle. The schooner was now 
quite ready for sea, and her master began 
to talk of hauling off from the wharf. It 
is true, there was no very apparent rea- 
son why this step, preliminary to sailing, 


43 


should be taken in that port,’where there 
were so few opportunities for her people 
to run into excesses; but it sounded ship- 
shape, and Captain Gardiner had been 
heard to express an intention to that 
effect. The men arrived but slowly from 
the main, and something like impatience 
was manifested by the young commander, 
who had long before got all his green 
hands, or youths from the neighborhood, 
on board, and was gradually breaking 
them into the ways of a vessel. Indeed, 
the best reason he could give to himself 
for ‘“‘hauling off,’’ was the practice it 
might give to these lads with the oars. 

“ T don’t know what Hazard and Green 
are about,’ called out Roswell Gardiner 
to his owner, the first being on the quar- 
ter-deck of the Sea Lion, and the last on 
the wharf, while Watson was busy in the 
main-rigging ; ‘‘ they’ve been long enough 
on the main to ship a dozen crews for a 
craft of this size, and we are still short 
two hands, even if this man sign the 
papers, which he has not yet done. By 
the way, Watson, it’s time we saw your 
handwriting.’’ 

‘‘T’m a poor scholar, Captain Gar’ner,”’ 
returned the cunning mariner, ‘‘ and it 
tukes time for me to make out even so 
small a matter as my name.”’ 

“Ay, ay; you are a prudent fellow, 
and I like you all the better for it. But 
you have had leisure, and a plenty of it, 
too, to make up your mind. You must 
know the schooner from her keel up by 
this time, and ought to be able to say now 
that you are willing to take luck’s chances 
in her.”’ 

«Ay, ay, sir; that’s all true enough, 
so far as the craft is concerned. If this 
was a West India v’y’ge, I wouldn’t 
stand a minute about signing the articles; 
nor should I make much question if the 
craft was large enough for a common 
whalin’ v’y’ge; but sealin’ is a different 
business, and one onprofitable hand may 
make many an onprofitable lay.” 

‘* All this is true enough; but we do 
not intend to take any unprofitable hands, 
or to have any unprofitable lays. You 
know me Be 

‘‘Oh! if all was like you, Captain Gar’- 


44 WORKS 


ner, I wouldn’t’ stand even to wipe the 
pen. Your repitation was made in the 
southward, and no man can dispute your 
skill.’’ 

‘Well, both mates are old hands at 
the business, and we intend that all the 
‘ables’ shall be as good men as you are 
yourself.’’ 

‘‘It needs good men, sir, to be operatin’ 
among some of them sea-elephants ! Sea- 
dogs; for sea-dogs is my sayin’. They 
tell of seals getting scurce; but I say, 
it’s all in knowin’ the business.—‘ There’s 
young Captain Gar’ner,’ says I, ‘that’s 
fittin’ out a schooner for some onknown 
part of the world,’ says I, ‘maybe for the 
South Pole, forti-know, or for some sich 
out-of-the-way hole; now he’ll come back 
full, or ’'m no judge o’ the business,’ 
says I.’’ 

‘Well, if this is your way of thinking, 
you have only to clap your name to the 
articles, and take your lay.”’ 

‘‘ Ay, ay, sir; when I’ve seed my ship- 
mates. There isn’t the business under 
the sun that so much needs that every 
man should be true, as the sea-elephant 
trade. Smaller animals may be got 
along with, with a narvous crew, per- 
haps; but when it comes to the raal 
old bulls, or bulldogs, as a body might 
better call ’em, give me stout hearts, as 
well as stout hands.’’ 

“Well, now, to my notion, Watson, it 
is less dangerous to take a sea-elephant 
than to fasten to a regular old bull-whale, 
that maybe has had half a dozen irons in 
him already.’’ 

“Yes, sir, that’s sometimes skeary 
work, too; though I don’t think so much 
of a whale as I do of a sea-elephant, or of 
a sea-lion. ‘Let me know my shipmates,’ 
say I, ‘on a sealin’ expedition.’ ’’ 

‘‘Captain Gar’ner,’’ said the deacon, 
who necessarily overheard this discourse, 
“you ought to know at once whether this 
man is to goin the schooner or not. The 
mates believe he is, and may come across 
from the main without a hand to take his 
place, should he leave us. The thing 
should be settled at once.’’ 

“‘1’m willing to come to tarms this 
minute,’’ returned Watson, as boldly as 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


if he were perfectly sincere; ‘‘only let 
me understand what I undertake. If I 
know’d to what islands the schooner was 
bound, it might make a difference in my 
judgment.”’ 

This was a well-devised question of the 
spy’s, though it failed of its effect, in con- 
sequence of the deacon’s great caution in 
not having yet told his secret, even to the 
master of his craft. Had Gardiner known 
exactly where he was about to go, the 
desire to secure a hand as valuable as 
Watson might have drawn from him some 
imprudent revelation; but knowing noth- 
ing himself, he was obliged to make the 
best answer he could. 

*‘Going,’’ he said; ‘‘ why, we are going 
after seals, to be sure; and shall look for 
them where they are most to be found. 
As experienced a hand as yourself ought 
to know where that is.”’ 

«Ay, ay, sir,’’ answered the fellow, 
laughing—‘“‘ it’s just neither here nor 
there—that’s all.”’ ; 

‘“‘Captain Gar’ner,’’ interrupted the 
deacon, solemnly, ‘‘ this is trifling, and we 
must come to terms with this man, or 
write to Mr. Hazard to engage another in 
his place. Come ashore, sir; I have busi- 
ness with you up at the house.’’ 

The serious manner in which this was 
uttered took both the captain and the man 
a little by surprise. As for the first, he 
went below to conceal his good-looking 
throat beneath a black handkerchief, be- 
fore he followed the deacon where it was 
most probable he should meet with Mary. 
While he was thus occupied, Watson 
came down out of the main-rigging and 
descended into the forecastle. As the 
young captain was walking fast toward 
the dwelling of Deacon Pratt, Watson 
came on deck again, and hailed Baiting . 
Joe, who was fishing at no great distance 
from the wharf. Ina few minutes Wat- 
son was in Joe’s boat, bag and all—he 
had not brought a chest on board-—and 
was under way for the Harbor. From 
the Harbor he sailed the same evening, in 
a whale-boat that was kept in readiness 
for him, carrying the news over to 
Holmes’s Hole that the Sea Lion, of 
Oyster Pond, would certainly be ready 


THE SHA LIONS. 


to go out as early as the succeeding week. 
Although Watson thus seemingly de- 
serted his post, it was with a perfect un- 
derstanding with his real employers. He 
had need of afew days to make his own 
preparations before he left the 41st degree 
of north latitude to go as far south as a 
vessel could proceed. He did not, how- 
ever, leave his post entirely vacant. One 
of Deacon Pratt’s neighbors had under- 
taken, for a consideration, to let the prog- 
ress of events be known, and tidings were 
sent by every opportunity, reporting the 
movements of the schooner, and the pros- 
pects of her getting to sea. These last 
were not quite as flattering as Roswell 
Gardiner had hoped and believed, the 
agents of the Vineyard company having 
succeeded in getting away two of Haz- 
ard’s best men; and as reliable sealers 
were not to be picked up as easily as_peb- 
bles on a beach, the delay caused by this 
new stroke of management might even be 
serious. All this time the Sea Lion, of 
Holmes’s Hole, was getting ahead with 
untiring industry, and there was every 
prospect of her being ready to go out as 
soon as her competitor. But to return to 
Oyster Pond. 

Deacon Pratt was in his porch ere Ros- 
well Gardiner overtook him. There the 
deacon gave his young friend to under- 
stand he had private business of moment, 
and led the way at once into his own 
apartment, which served the purposes of 
office, bedroom, and closet ; the good man 
being accustomed to put up his petition 
to the throne of Mercy there, as well as 
transact all his temporal affairs. Shut- 
ting the door, and turning the key, not a 
little to Roswell’s surprise, the old man 
faced his companion with a most earnest 
and solemn look, telling him at once that 
he was now about to open his mind to 
him in a matter of the last concern. The 
young sailor scarce knew what to think 
of it all; but he hoped that Mary 
was, in some way, connected with the 
result. ; 

‘‘In the first place, Captain Gar’ner,”’ 
continued the deacon, ‘‘ I must ask you to 
take an oath.” 


‘«*An oath, deacon! This is quite new 


45 


for the sealing ousiness—as ceremonious 
as Uncle Sam’s people.”’ 

‘Yes, sir, an oath; and an oath that 
must be most religiously kept, and on this 
Bible. Without the oath, our whole con- 
nection must fall through, Captain Gar’- 
ner,’’ 

‘‘ Rather than that should happen, dea- 
con, I will cheerfully take two oaths; one 
to clench the other.”’ 

‘Ttiswell. I ask you, Roswell Gar’ner, 
to swear on this Holy Book that the secrets 
I shall now reveal to you shall not be told 
to any other, except in a manner prescribed 
by myself ; that in no other man’s employ- 
ment will you profit by them; and that 
you will in all things connected with them 
be true and faithful to your engagements 
to me and to my interests—so help you 
God !”’ 

Roswell Gardiner kissed the book, while 
he wondered much, and was dying with 
curiosity to know what was to follow. 
This great point secured, the deacon laid 
aside the sacred volume, opened a drawer, 
and produced the two all-important charts, 
to which he had transferred the notes of 
Daggett. 

‘‘Captain Gar’ner,’’ resumed the dea- 
con, spreading the chart of the antarctic 
sea on the bed, ‘‘you must have known 
me and my ways long enough to feel some 
surprise at finding me, at my time of life, 
first entering into the shipping concern.’’ 

“‘Tf I’ve felt any surprise, deacon, it is 
that a man of your taste and judgment 
should have held aloof so long from the 
only employment that I think fit for a man 
of real energy and character.”’ 

«¢ Ay, this is well enough for you to say, 
as aseaman yourself; though you will find 
it hard to persuade most of those who live 
on shore into your own ways of thinking.’’ 

«That is because people ashore think 
and act as they have been brought up to 
do. Now just look at that chart, deacon ; 
see how much of itis water, and how little 
of it is land. Minister Whittle told us 
only the last Sabbath, that nothing was 
created without a design, and that a wise 
dispensation of Divine Providence was to 
be seen in all the works of nature. Now 
if the land was intended to take the lead 


46 


of the water, would there have been so 
much more of the last than of the first, 
deacon? That was the idea that came 
into my mind when I heard the minister’s 
words; and had not Mary——”’’ 

“«“ What of Mary ?’? demanded the dea- 
con, seeing that the young man paused. 

“Only I was in hopes that what you 
had to say, deacon, might have some con- 
nection with her.’’ 

‘“*What I have to say is better worth 
hearing than fifty Marys. As to my 
niece, Gar’ner, you are welcome to her, if 
she will have you; and why she does not 
is to me unaccountable. But, you see 
that chart—look at it well, and tell me if 
you find anything new or remarkable 
about it.”’ 

““It looks like old times, deacon, and 
here are many places that I have visited 
andknow. Whathave wehere? Islands 
laid down in pencil, with the latitude and 
longitude in figures! Who says there is 
land thereaway, Deacon Pratt, if I may 
be so free as to ask the question ?’’ 

«“T do—and capital good land it is for 
a sealing craft to get alongside of. Them 
islands, Gar’ner, may make your fortune, 
as well as mine. No matter how I know 
they are there—it is enough that I do 
know it, and that I wish you to carry the 
Sea Lion to that very spot, as straight 
as you can go; fill her up with elephant’s 
oil, ivory, and skins, and bring her back 
again as fast as she can travel.’’ 

‘Islands in that latitude and longi- 
tude !’’ said Roswell Gardiner, examin- 
ing the chart as closely as if it were of 
very fine print indeed—‘‘ I never heard of 
any such land before ! ’’ 

°Tis there, notwithstanding ; and like 
all land in distant seas that men have not 
often troubled, plentifully garnished with 
what will pay the mariner well for his 
visit.’ 

“Of that I have little doubt, should 
there be actually any land there. It may 
be a Cape Fly Away that some fellow has 
seen in thick weather. The ocean is full 
of such islands! ”’ . 

“This is none of them. It is bony 
fidy ’arth, as I know from the man who 
trod it. You must take good care, Gar’- 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


ner, and not run the schooner on it,’’— 
with a small, chuckling laugh, such as a 
man little accustomed to this species of 
indulgence uses when in high good humor. 
‘‘T am not rich enough to buy and fit out 
Sea Lions for you to cast ’°em away.”’ 

“That’s high latitude, deacon, to carry 
a craft into. Cook himself fell short of 
that somewhat !”’ 

“‘Never mind Cook—he was a king’s 
navigator—my man was an American 
sealer; and what he has once seen he 
knows where to find again. There are 
the islands—three in number; and there 
you will find ’em, with animals on their 
shores as plenty as clam-shells on the 
south beach.”’ . 

‘‘T hope it may be so. If land is there, 
and you’ll risk the schooner, I’ll try to 
get a look atit. I shall want you to put 
it down in black and white, however, that 
I’m to go as high as this.”’ 

«You shall have any authority a man 
may ask. On that point there can be no 
difficulty between me and you. The risk 
of the schooner must be mine, of course; 
but I rely on you to take as good care of 
her as a mancan. Go, then, direct to that 
point, and fill up the schooner. But, 
Gar’ner, my business doesn’t end with 
this! Assoon as the schooner is full you 
will come to the southward, and get her 
clear of everything like ice as fast as 
possible.”’ 

‘‘That I should be very likely to do, 
deacon, though you had said nothing on 
the subject.’’ 

“Yes, by all accounts them are stormy 
seas, and the sooner a body is shut of 
them the better. And now, Gar’ner, I 
must swear you again. I have another 
secret to tell you, and an oath must go 
with each. Kiss this sacred volume once 
more, and swear to me never to reveal to 
another that which I am about to reveal 
to you, unless it may be in a court of law, 
and at the command of justice, so help 
you God! ”’ | 

“«“ What, a second oath, deacon !—You 
are aS bad as the custom houses, which 
take you on all tacks, and don’t believe 
you when you’ve done. Surely, I’m sworn 
in already.”’ 


THE SHA LIONS. 


«Kiss the book, and swear to what I 
have put to you,”’ said the deacon, stern- 
ly, ‘‘or never go to sea in a craft of mine. 
Never to reveal what I shall now tell you, 
unless compelled by justice, so help you 
God ! ”’ 

Thus cornered, Roswell Gardiner hesi- 
tated no longer, but swore as required, 
kissing the book gravely and reverently. 
This was the young man’s first command, 
and he was not going to lose it on account 
of so small a matter as swearing to keep 
his owner’s secrets. Having obtained the 
pledge, the deacon now produced the 
second chart, which was made to take 
the place of the other on the bed. 

‘‘There!’’ he exclaimed, in a sort of 
triumph—‘‘that is the real object of your 
voyage !”’ 

“That key! Why, deacon, that is in 
north latitude —° —’’, and you make a 
crooked road of it, truly, when you tell 
me to go as far south as —° —’’, in order 
to reach it.’’ 

“It is well to have two strings to a 
body’s bow. When you hear what you 
are to bring from that key, you will un- 
derstand why I send you south, before 
you are to come here to top off your 
cargo.’’. 

‘“‘It must be with turtle, then,’’ said 
Roswell Gardiner, laughing. ‘‘ Nothing 
grows on these keys but a few stunted 
shrubs, and nothing is ever to be found 
on them but turtle. Once in a while a 
fellow may pick up a few turtle, if he 
happen to hit the right key.”’ 

‘‘Gar’ner,’’ rejoined the deacon, still 
more solemnly—‘‘that island, low and 
insignificant as it is, contains treasure. 
Pirates made their deposits here a long 
time ago, and the knowledge of that 
fact is now confined to myself.’’ 

The young man stared at the deacon 
as if he had some doubts whether the 


old man were in his right mind. He 


knew the besetting weakness of his char- 
acter well, and had no difficulty in ap- 
preciating the influence of such a belief 
as that he had just expressed, on his feel- 
ings; but it seemed so utterly improb- 
able that he, living on Oyster Pond, 
should learn a fact of this nature, which 


47 


was concealed from others, that, at first, 
he fancied his owner had been dreaming: 
of money until its images had made him 
mad. Then he recollected the deceased 
mariner, the deacon’s many conferences 
with him, the interest he had always 
appeared to take in the man, and the 
suddenness, as well as the time, of the 
purchase of the schooner; and he at 
once obtained a clew to the whole affair. 

“Daggett has told you this, Deacon 
Pratt,’? said Gardiner, in his off-hand 
way. ‘‘And he is the man who has told 
you of those sealing-islands, too!”’ 

** Admitting it to be so, why not Dag- 
gett as well as any other man ?”’ 

‘*Certainly, if he knew what he was 
saying to be true—but the yarn of a 
sailor is not often to be taken for gos- 
pel.”’ 

** Daggett was near his end, and cannot 
be classed with those who talk idly in the 
pride of their health and strength—men 
who are ever ready to say, ‘Tush, God 
has forgotten.’ ” 

‘“Why was this told to you, when the 
man had natural friends and relatives by 
the dozen over on the Vineyard ?”’ 

‘‘He had been away from the Vineyard 
and them relatives fifty years; a length 
of time that weakens a body’s feelings 
considerably. Take you away from Mary 
only a fourth part of that time, and you 
would forget whether her eyes are blue or 
black, and altogether how she looks.’’ 

‘“‘Tf I should, a most miserable and 
contemptible dog should I account my- 
self! No, deacon, twice fifty years would 
not make me forget the eyes or the looks 
of Mary! ’’ 

** Ay, so all youngsters think, and feel, 
and talk. But let ’em try the world, and 
they’ll soon find out their own foolishness. 
But Daggett made me his confidant be- 
cause Providence put me in his way, and 
because he trusted to be well enough to 
go in the schooner, and to turn the expe- 
dition to some account in his own behalf.’’ 

‘‘Had the man the impudence to con- 
fess that he had been a pirate, and helped 
to bury treasure on this key ?”’ 

‘That is not, by any means, his history. 
Daggett was never a pirate himself, but 


48 


accident placed him in the same prison 
and same room as that in which a real 
pirate was confined. There the men be- 
came friends, and the condemned prisoner, 
for such he was in the end, gave this secret 
to Daggett as the last service he could do 
him.”’ 

“‘T hope, deacon, you do not expect 
much in the way of profit from this part 
of the voyage? ”’ 

**T expect the most from it, Gar’ner, as 
you will, too, when you come to hear the 
whole story.’ 

The deacon then went into all the par- 
ticulars of the revelations made by the 
pirate to his fellow-prisoner, much as they 
had been given by Daggett to himself. 
The young man listened to this account at 
first with incredulity, then with interest ; 
and finally with a feeling that induced him 
to believe that there might be more truth 
in the narrative than he had originally 
supposed possible. This change was pro- 
duced by the earnest manner of the deacon 
as much as by the narrative itself; for he 
had become graphic under the strong im- 
pulses of that which, with him, was a 
master passion. So deep had been the 
impression made on the mind of the old 
man by Daggett’s account, and so intense 
the expectations thereby awakened, that 
he omitted nothing, observed the most 
minute accuracy in all his details, and 
conveyed just as distinct impressions to 
his listener, as had been conveyed to him- 
self, when the story was first told to 
him. 

‘This 1s a most extr’or’nary account, 
take it on whatever tack you will!” ex- 
claimed Roswell Gardiner, aS soon as a 
pause in the deacon’s story enabled him 
to put in another word. ‘‘The most ex- 
tr’or’nary tale I ever listened to! How 
came so much gold and silver to be aban- 
doned for so long a time ?”’ 

‘‘Them three officers hid it there, fear- 
ing to trust their own crew with it in their 
vessel. Their pretence was to stop for 
turtle, just as you must do; whilst the 
hands were turtling, the captain and his 
mates walked about the key, and took 
occasion to make their deposits in that 


hole on the coral rock, as you have heard | 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


me say. Oh! it’s all too natural not to 
be true !’’ 

Roswell Gardiner saw that the old man’s 
hopes were too keenly excited to be easily 
cooled, and that his latent covetousness 
was thoroughly awakened. Of all the 
passions to which poor human nature is 
the slave, the love of gold is that which 
endures the longest, and is often liter- 
ally carried with us to the verge of the 
grave. Indeed, in minds so constituted 
originally as to submit to an undue love 
of money, the passion appears to increase, 
as others more dependent on youth, and 
strength, and enterprise, and ambition, 
gradually become of diminished force, 
slowly but surely usurping the entire sway 
over a being that was once subject to 
many masters. Thus had it been with the 
deacon. Nearly all his passions now cen- 
tered in this one. He no longer cared for 
preferment in politics, though once it had 
been the source of a strong desire to repre- 
sent Suffolk at Albany ; even the meeting, 
and its honors, were loosening their hold 
on his mind; while his fellowmen, his 
kindred included, were regarded by him as 
little more than so many competitors or 
tools. : 

‘““A lie may be made to seem very 
natural,’’ answered Roswell Gardiner, ‘if 
it has been put together by one who under- 
stands knotting and splicing in such mat- 
ters. Did this Daggett name the amount 
of the sum that he supposed the pirates 
may have left on that key ?’’ 

“He did,’’ returned the deacon, the 
whole of his narrow and craving soul 
seeming to gleam in his two sunken eyes 
as he answered. ‘‘ According to the ac- 
count of the pirate, there could not have 
been much less than thirty thousand dol- 
lars, and nearly all of it in good doubloons 
of the coin of the kings—doubloons that 
will weigh their full sixteens to the pound 
—ay, and to spare !”’ 

“The Sea Lion’s cargo, well chosen 
and well stowed, would double that, 
deacon, if the right animals can only be 
found.”’ 

‘Maybe so—but just think, Gar’ner— 
this will be in good, bright coined gold ! ”’ 

‘‘ But what right can we have to that 


THE 


gold, even admitting that it is there, and 
can be found ? ”’ 

*“ Right !’’ exclaimed the deacon, star- 
ing. ‘* Doesnot that which Divine Provi- 
dence gives man become his own? ”’ 

“By the same rule it might be said 
Divine Providence gave it to the pirates. 
There must be lawful owners to all this 
money, if one could only find them.”’ 

“Ay, if one could only find them. 
Harkee, Gar’ner; have you spent a 
shilling or a quarter lately ? ”’ 

“A good many of both, deacon,”’ an- 
swered the young man, again betraying 
the lightness of his heart with a laugh. 
‘‘T wish I had more of your saving tem- 
per, and I might get rich. Yes, I spent 
a quarter only two hours since, in buying 
fish for the cabin, of old Baiting Joe.”’ 

‘* Well, tell me the impression of that 
quarter. Had it a head, or only pillars? 
What was its date,and in whose reign 
was it struck? Maybe it was from the 
mint at Philadelphia—if so, had it the old 
eagle or the new? Inaword, could you 
swear to that quarter, Gar’ner, or to any 
quarter you ever spent in your life? ”’ 

** Perhaps not, deacon. A fellow doesn’t 
sit down to take likenesses, when he gets 
a little silver or gold.’’ 

‘‘Nor is it very probable that any one 
could say—‘ that is my doubloon.’ ”’ 

‘* Still there must be a lawful owner to 
each piece of that money, if any such 
money be there,’’ returned Roswell Gar- 
diner, a little positively. ‘‘ Have youever 
talked with Mary, deacon, on this sub- 
ject ?”’ 

**T talk of such a matter with a woman ! 
Do you think I’m mad, Gar’ner? If I 
wanted to have the secret run through old 
Suffo’k, as fire runs over the salt meadows 
in the spring, I might think of such a 
thing; but not without. I have talked 
with no one but the master of the craft 
that I am about to send out in search of 
this gold, as well as in search of the seal- 
ing-islands, [have shown you. Had there 
been but one object in view, I might not 
have ventured so much; but with two be- 
fore my eyes, it would seem like flying in 
the face of Divine Providence to neglect so 
great an opportunity ! ’’ 


SHA LIONS. 


49 


Roswell Gardiner saw that arguments 
would avail nothing against a cupidity so_ 
keenly aroused. He abstained, therefore, 
from urging any more of the objections 
that suggested themselves to his mind, 
but heard all that the deacon had to tell 
him, taking full notes of what he heard. 
It would seem that Daggett had been suf- 
ficiently clear in his directions for finding 
the hidden treasure, provided always that 
his confidant the pirate had been as clear 
with him, and had not been indulging in a 
mystification. The probability of the last 
had early suggested itself to one of Deacon 
Pratt’s cautious temperament; but Dag- 
gett had succeeded in removing the im- 
pression by his forcible statements of his 
friend’s sincerity. There was as little 
doubt of the sincerity of the belief of the 
Martha’s Vineyard mariner, as there was 
of that of the deacon himself. 

The day that succeeded this conference, 
the Sea Lion hauled off from the wharf, 
and all communications with her were now 
made only by means of boats. The sud- 
den disappearance of Watson may have 
contributed to this change—men being 
more under control with a craft at her 
moorings than when fast to a wharf. 
Three days later the schooner lifted her 
anchor, and with a light air made sail. 
She passed through the narrow but deep 
channel which separates Shelter Island 
from Oyster Pond, quitting the waters of 
Peconic altogether. There was not an 
air of departure about her, notwithstand- 
ing. The deacon was not much con- 
cerned ; and some of Roswell Gardiner’s 
clothes were still at his washerwoman’s, 
circumstances that were fully explained, 
when the schooner was seen to anchor in 
Gardiner’s Bay, which is an outer road- 
stead to all the ports and havens of that 
region. 


50 WORKS 


CHAPTER VII. 


** Walk in the light! so shalt thou know 

That fellowship of love, 

His spirit only can bestow 
Who reigns in light above. 

Walk in the light! and sin, abhorr’d, 
Shall ne’er defile again ; 

The blood of Jesus Christ, the Lord, 
Shall cleanse from every stain.”’ 

—BERNARD BARTON. 


ABOUT an hour after the Sea Lion, of 
Oyster Pond, had let go her anchor in 
Gardiner’s Bay, a coasting sloop ap- 
proached her, coming from the westward. 
There are two passages by which vessels 
enter or quit Long Island Sound, at its 
eastern termination. The main channel 
is between Plum and Fisher’s Islands, and 
from the rapidity of its currents, is known 
by the name of the Race. The other pas- 
sage is much less frequented, being out of 
the direct line for sailing for craft that 
keep mid-sound. It lies to the southward 
of the Race, between Plum Island and 
Oyster Pond Point, and is called by the 
Anglo-Saxon appellation of Plum Gut. 
The coaster just mentioned had come 
through this latter passage; and it was 
the impression of those who saw her from 
the schooner, that she was bound up into 
Peconic, or the waters of Sag Harbor. 
Instead of luffing up into either of the 
channels that would have carried her into 
these places, however, she kept off, cross- 
ing Gardiner’s Bay, until she got within 
hail of the schooner. The wind being 
quite light, there was time for the follow- 
ing short dialogue to take place between 
the skipper of this coaster and Roswell 
Gardiner, before the sloop had passed be- 
yond the reach of the voice. 

“Is that the Sea Lion, of Oyster 
Pond ?’”? demanded the skipper, boldly. 

Ay, ay,’’ answered Roswell Gardiner, 
in the sententious manner of a seaman. 

‘“Ts there one Watson of Martha’s Vine- 
yard shipped in that craft ? ”’ 

‘‘He was aboard here for a week, but 
left us suddenly. As he did not sign 
articles, I cannot say that he run.’’ 

‘* He changed his mind, then,’’ returned 
the other, as one expresses a slight degree 
of surprise at hearing that which was new 
to him. ‘ Watson is apt to whiffle about, 


1 one in the interests of rivals. 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


| though a prime fellow, if you can once 


fasten to him, and get him into blue water. 
Does your schooner go out to-morrow, 
Captain Gar’ner ? ”’ | 

‘“Not till next day, I think,’’ said Ros- 
well Gardiner, with the frankness of his 
nature, utterly free from the slightest 
suspicion that he was communicating with 
“* My mates 
have not yet joined me, and I am short 
of my complement by two good hands. 
Had that fellow Watson stuck by me, I 
would have given him a look at water that 
no lead ever sounded.”’ 

‘“Ay, ay; he’s a whiffler, but a good 
man on a sea-elephant. Then you think 
you'll sail day a’ter to-morrow ? ”’ 

“If my mates come over from the main. 
They wrote me yesterday that they had 
got the hands, and were then on the look- 
out for something to get acrossin. I’ve 
come out here to be ready for them, and 
to pick *em up, that they needn’t go all 
the way up to the Harbor.’’ 

‘‘That’s a good traverse, and will save 
a long pull. Perhaps they are in that 
boat.’’ | | 

At this allusion to a boat, Roswell Gar- 
diner sprang into his main rigging, and 
Saw, sure enough, that a boat was pulling 
directly toward the schooner, coming from 
the main, and distant only a short half 
mile. A glass was handed to him, and he 
was soon heard announcing cheerfully to 
his men, that ‘‘Mr. Hazard and the sec- 
ond officer, were in the boat, with two 
seamen,’? and that he supposed they. 
should now have their complement. All 
this was overheard by the skipper of the 
sloop, who caught each syllable with the 
most eager attention. 

‘You'll soon be traveling south, I’m 
thinking, Captain Gar’ner?”’ called out 
this worthy, again, in a sort of felicitating 
way. ‘*Them’s your chaps, and they’ll 
set you up.”’ 

*“T hope so, with all my heart, for there 
is nothing more tiresome than waiting 
when one is all ready to trip. My owner 
is getting to be impatient, too, and wants 
to see some skins in return for his dollars.’’ 

‘“* Ay, ay, them’s your chaps, and you’ll 
be off the day a’ter to-morrow, at the lat- 


THE SHA LIONS. 


est. Well, a good time to you, Captain 
Gar’ner, and a plenty of skinning. It’sa 
long road to travel, especially when a craft 
has to goas far south as yours is bound ! ”’ 

‘‘How do you know, friend, whither I 
am bound? You have not asked me for 
my sealing-ground, nor is it usual, in our 
business, to be hawking it up and down 
the country.”’ 

<All that is true enough, but I’ve a 
notion, notwithstanding. Now as you'll 
be off so soon, and as I shall not see you 
again, for some time at least, I will give 
you a piece of advice. If you fall 7m with 
a consort, don’t fall owf with her and 
make a distant v’y’ge a cruise for an 
enemy, but come to tarms, and work in 
company; lay for lay; and make fair 
weather of what can’t be helped.”’ 

The men on board the sloop. laughed at 
this speech, while those on board the 
schooner wondered. To Roswell Gardi- 
ner and his people the allusions were an 
enigma, and the former muttered some- 
thing about the stranger’s being a dunce, 
as he descended from the rigging and 
gave some orders to prepare to receive 
the boat. 

“The chap belongs to the Hole,’’ re- 
joined the master of the schooner; “‘and 
all them Vineyard fellows fancy them- 
selves better blue-jackets than the rest of 
mankind : I suppose it must be because 
their island lies further out to sea than 
anything we have here inside of Mon- 
tauk.’’ 

Thus ended the communications with 
the stranger. The sloop glided away 
before a light south wind, and, favored 
by an ebb-tide, soon rounded the spit of 
sand that shelters the anchorage; and, 
hauling up to the eastward, she went on 
her way toward Holmes’s Hole. The 
skipper was a relative of half of those 
who were interested in fitting out the 
rival Sea Lion, and had volunteered to 
obtain the very information he took with 
him, knowing how acceptable it would be 
to those at home. Sooth to say, a deep 
but wary excitement prevailed on the 
Vineyard, touching not only the sealing 
islands, but also in respect to the buried 
treasure. The information actually pos- 


D1 


sessed by the relations of the deceased 
mariner was neither very full nor very 
clear. It consisted principally of sayings 
of Daggett, uttered during his home- 
ward-bound passage, and transmitted by 
the master of the brig to him of the sloop 
in the course of conferences that wore 
away a long summer’s afternoon, as the 
two vessels lay becalmed within a hundred 
fathoms of each other. 

These sayings, however, had been fre- 
quent and intelligible. All men like to deal 
in that which makes them of importance ; 
and the possession of his secrets had just 
the effect on Daggett’s mind that was 
necessary to render him boastful. . Under 
such impulses his tongue had not been 
very guarded ; and facts leaked out which, 
when transmitted to his native island, 
through the medium of half-a;dozen ton- 
gues and as many fancies, amounted to 
statements sufficient to fire the imagina- 
tions of a people much duller than those of 
Martha’s Vineyard. Accustomed to con- 
verse and think of such expeditions, it is 
not surprising that a few of the most en- 
terprising of those who first heard the 
reports should unite and plan the adven- 
ture they now actually had in hand. 
When the intelligence of what was going 
on on Oyster Pond reached them, every- 
thing like hesitation or doubt disappeared ; 
and from the moment of the nephew’s re- 
turn in quest of his uncle’s assets, the 
equipment of the ‘‘ Humses’ Hull ”’ craft 
had been pressed in a way that would have 
done credit to that of a government 
cruiser. Even Henry Eckford, so well- 
known for having undertaken to cut the 
trees and put upon the waters of Ontario 
two double-bank frigates, if frigates they 
could be termed, each of which was to 
mount its hundred guns, in the short 
space of sixty days, scarce manifested 
greater energy in carrying out his con- 
tract, than did these rustic islanders in 
preparing their craft to compete with that 
which they were now certain was about to 
sail from the place where their kinsman 
had breathed his last. 

These keen and spirited islanders, how- 
ever, did not work quite as much in the 
dark as our accounts, unexplained, might 


' 52 


give the reader reason to suppose. 
be remembered that there was a till to the 
chest which had not been examined by 
the deacon. This till contained an old 
mutilated journal, not of the last, but of 
one or two of the earlier voyages of the 
deceased ; though it had detached entries 
that evidently referred to different and 
distant periods of time. By dint of study, 
and by putting together sundry entries 
that at first sight might not be supposed 
to have any connection with each other, 
the present possessor of that chest had 
obtained what he deemed to be very 
sufficient clews to his uncle’s two great 
secrets. There were also in the chest 
several loose pieces of paper, on which 
there were rude attempts to make charts 
of all the islands and keys in question, 
giving their relative positions as it re- 
spected their immediate neighbors, but in 
no instance giving the latitudes and longi- 
tudes. In addition to these significant 
proofs that the reports brought through 
the two masters were not without a 
foundation, there was an unfinished letter, 
written by the deceased, and addressed as 
a sort of legacy, ‘‘to any, or all of Mar- 
tha’s Vineyard, of the name of Daggett.”’ 
This address was sufficiently wide, includ- 
ing, probably, some hundreds of persons ; 
a clan, in fact; but it was also sufficiently 
significant. The individual into whose 
hands it first fell, being of the name, read 
it first, as a matter of course, when he 
carefully folded it up, and placed it ina 
pocket-book, which he was much in the 
habit of carrying in his own pocket. On 
what principle this letter, unfinished and 
without a signature, with nothing indeed 
but its general and comprehensive address 
to point out its origin as well as its des- 
tination, was thus appropriated to the 
purposes of a single individual, we shall 
not stop to inquire. Such was the fact, 
however, and none connected with the 
equipment of the Sea Lion, of Holmes’s 
Hole, knew anything of the existence of 
that document, its present possessor ex- 
cepted. He looked it over occasionally, 
and deemed the information it conveyed 
of no trifling import, under all the cir- 
cumstances of the case. 


WORKS OF FENIMORE 


It will ! 


Se 


COOPER. 


Both the enterprises of which we have 
given an opening account were perfectly 
characteristic of the state of society in 
which they were brought into existence. 
Deacon Pratt, if he had any regular call- 
ing, was properly a husbandman, though 
the love of money had induced him to in- 
vest his cash in nearly every concern 
around him, which promised remunerat- 
ing returns. The principal owners of the 
Sea Lion, of Holmes’s Hole, were hus- 
bandmen also; folks who literally tilled 
the earth, cradled their own oats and rye, 
and mowed their own meadows. Not- 
withstanding, neither of these men, those 
of the Vineyard any more than he of Oys- 
ter Pond, had hesitated about investing 
of his means in a maritime expedition, 
just as if they were all regular shipowners 
of the largest port in the Union. With 
such men, it is only necessary to exhibit 
an account with a fair prospect of large 
profits, and they are ever ready to enter 
into the adventure, heart, hand, and 
pocket. Last season, it may have been to 
look for whales on the coast of Japan; 
the season before that, to search for 
islands frequented by the seals; this sea- 
son, probably, to carry a party out to 
hunt for camelopards, set nets for young 
lions, and beat up the quarters of the rhi- 
noceros on the plains of Africa; while the 
next, they may be transporting ice from 
Long Pond to Calcutta and Kingston— 
not to say to London itself. Of such ma- 
terials are those descendants of the Puri- 
tans composed; a mixture of good and 
evil; of the religion which clings to the 
past, in recollection rather than feeling, 
mingled with a worldly-mindedness that 
amounts nearly to rapacity; all cloaked 
and rendered decent by a conventional 
respect for duties, and respectable and 
useful, by frugality, enterprise, and un- 
tiring activity. 

Roswell Gardiner had not mistaken the 
persons of thosein the boat. They proved 
to be Phil Hazard, his first officer ; Tim 
Green, the second mate ; and the two seal- 
ers whom it had cost so much time and in- 
genuity to obtain. Although neither of the 
mates even suspected the truth, no sooner 
had they engaged the right sort of man 


THE SHA LIONS. 


than he was tampered with by the agents 
of the Martha’s Vineyard concern, and 
spirited away by means of more tempting 
proposals, before he had got quite so far 
as to sign the articles. One of the mo- 
tives for sending Watson across to Oyster 
Pond had been to induce Captain Gardi- 
ner to believe he had engaged so skillful 
a hand, which would effectually prevent 
his attempting to procure another, until, 
at the last moment, he might find himself 
unable to put to sea for the want of a 
complement. A whaling or a sealing 
voyage requires that the vessel should 
take out with her the particular hands 
necessary to her specific object, though, 
of late years, the seamen have got so 
much in the habit of ‘* running,’’ espe- 
cially in the Pacific, that it is only the 
craft that strictly belong to what may be 
termed the whaling communities, that 
bring back with them the people they 
carry out, and not always them. 

But here had Roswell Gardiner his 
complement, and nearly everything ready 
to sea. He had only to go up to the Har- 
bor and obtain his clearance, have a short 
interview with his owner, a longer with 
Mary, and be off for the antarctic circle, 
if indeed the ice would allow him to get so 
far south. There were now sixteen souls 
on board the Sea Lion, a very sufficient 
number for the voyage on which she was 
about to sail. The disposition or rating 
of the crew was as follows, viz. : 


. Roswell Gardiner, master. 
Philip Hazard, chief mate. 
. Timothy Green, second ‘“ 
David Weeks, carpenter. 

. Nathan Thompson, seaman. 
. Sylvester Havens, te 
Marcus Todd, cf 

. Hiram Flint, Bf 

. Joshua Short, i 
10. : Stephen Stimson, * 
11. Bartlett Davidson, Ne 
12. Peter Mount, landsman. 
18. Arcularius Mott, ‘“ 

14. Robert Smith, es 

15. Cato Livingston, cook. 

16. Primus Floyd, boy. 


OMNIA ATR WWE 


This was considered a good crew, on the 
whole. Every man was a native Ameri- 
can, and most of them belonged to old 
Suffolk. Thompson, and Flint, and Short, 


D3 


and Stimson, four capital fellows in their 
way, came from the main; the last, it 
was said, from as far east as Kennebunk. 
No matter; they were all reasonably 
young, hale, active fellows, with a promise 
of excellent service about every man of 
them. Livingston and Floyd were colored 
persons, who bore the names of the two 
respectable families in which they or their 
progenitors had formerly been slaves. 
Weeks was accustomed to the sea, and 
might have been rated indifferently as a 
carpenter or as a mariner. Mount and 
Mott, though shipped as landsmen, were 
a good deal accustomed to the water also, 
having passed each two seasons in coast- 
ers, though neither had ever yet been 
really owtfstde, or seen blue water. 

It would not have been easy to give to 
the Sea Lion a more efficient crew ; yet 
there was scarce a real seaman belonging 
to her—a man who could have been made 
a captain of the forecastle on board a frig- 
ate or a Ship of the line. Even Gardiner, 
the best man in his little craft in nearly 
every respect, was deficient in many at- 
tainments that mark the thorough sea- 
dog. He would have been remarkable 
anywhere for personal activity, for cour- 
age, readiness, hardihood, and all those 
qualities which render a man useful in the 
business to which he properly belonged ; 
but he could hardly be termed a skillful 
leadsman, knew little of the finesse of his 
calling, and was wanting in that in-and- 
in-breeding which converts habit into an 
instinct, and causes the thorough seaman 
to do the right thing, blow high or blow 
low, in the right way, and at the right 
moment. In all these respects, however, 
he was much the best man on board ; and 
he was so superior to the rest as fully to 
command all their respect. Stimson was 
probably the next best seaman, after the 
master. 

The day succeeding that on which the 
Sea Lion received the remainder of her 
people, Roswell Gardiner went up to the 
Harbor, where he met Deacon Pratt, by 
appointment. The object was to clear 
the schooner out, which could be done 
only at that place. Mary accompanied 
her uncle, to transact some of her own 


54 WORKS 


little domestic business ; and it was then 
arranged between the parties, that the 
deacon should make his last visit to his 
vessel in the return-boat of her master, 
while Roswell Gardiner should take Mary 
back to Oyster Pond, in the whale-boat 
that had brought her and her uncle over. 
As Baiting Joe, as usual, had acted as 
ferryman, it was necessary to. get rid of 
him, the young sailor desiring to be alone 
with Mary. This was easily enough ef- 
fected, by a present of a quarter of a 
dollar. The boat having two lug sails, 
and the wind being light and steady, at 
southwest, there was nothing to conflict 
with Roswell Gardiner’s wishes. 

The young sailor left the wharf at Sag 
Harbor about ten minutes after the dea- 
con had preceded him, on his way to the 
schooner. As the wind was so light and 
so fair, he soon had his sheets in, and the 
boat glding along at an easy rate, which 
permitted him to bestow nearly all his 
attention on his charming companion. 
Roswell Gardiner had sought this oc- 
casion, that he might once more open his 
heart to Mary, and urge his suit for the 
last time, previously to so long an ab- 
sence. This he did in a manly, frank 
way, that was far from being unpleasant 
to his gentle listener, whose inclinations, 
for a few minutes, blinded her to the reso- 
lutions already made on principle. So 
urgent was her suitor, indeed, that she 
should solemnly plight her faith to him, 
ere he sailed, that a soft illusion came 
over the mind of one as affectionate as 
Mary, and she was half inclined to believe 
her previous determination was unjustifi- 
able and obdurate. But the head of one 
of her high principles, and clear views of 
duty, could not long be deceived by her 
heart, and she regained the self-command 
which had hitherto sustained her in all 
her former trials, in connection with this 
subject. 

“Perhaps it would have been better, 
Roswell,’’ she said, ‘‘ had I taken leave of 
you at the Harbor, and not incurred the 
risk of the pain that I foresee I shall both 
give and bear, in our present discourse. 
I have concealed nothing from you; pos- 
sibly I have been more sincere than pru- 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


dence would sanction. You know the only 
obstacle there is to our union; but that 
appears to increase in strength the more 
I ask you to reflect on it—to try to re- 
move it.”’ 

“What would you have me do, Mary ? 
Surely, not to play the hypocrite, and pro- 
fess to believe that which I certainly do 
not, and which, after all my inquiries, I 
cannot believe.’ . 

‘‘] am sorry it is so, on every account,”’ 
returned Mary, in a low and saddened 
tone. ‘Sorry, that one of so frank, in- 
genuous a mind, should find it impossible 
to accept the creed of his’fathers, and 
sorry that it must leave so impassable a 
chasm between us forever.”’ 

‘“No, Mary; that can never be! Noth- 
ing but death can separate us for so long 
atime! While we meet, we shall at least 
be friends; and friends love to meet and 
to see each other often.”’ 

‘‘It may seem unkind, at a moment like 
this, Roswell, but it is in truth the very 
reverse, if I say we ought not to meet 
each other here, if we are bent on follow- 
ing our own separate ways toward a future 
world. My God.is not your God; and 
what can there be of peace in a family, 
when its two heads worship different 
deities? I am afraid that you do not 
think sufficiently of the nature of these 
things.” 

‘“<J did not believe you to be so illiberal, 
Mary! Had the deacon said as much, I 
might not have been surprised ; but, for 
one like you to tell me that my God is not 
your God, is narrow indeed.’’ 

“Is it not so, Roswell? And, if so, why 
should we attempt to gloss over the truth 
by deceptive words ? I am a believer in 
the Redeemer, as the Son of God; as one 
of the Holy Trinity ; while you believe in — 
him only as a man—a righteous and just, 
a sinless man, if you will, but as a man 
only. Now is not the difference in these 
creeds immense? Is it not, in truth, just 
the difference between God and man? I 
worship my Redeemer; regard him as 
the equal of the Father—as a part of the 
Divine Being; while you look on him as 
merely a man without sin—as a man such 
as Adam probably was before the fall.” 


THE SEA LIONS. 55 


«<Do we know enough of these matters, 
Mary, to justify us in allowing them to 
interfere with our happiness? ”’ 

‘We are told that they are all-essential 
to our happiness—not in the sense you 
may mean, Roswell, but in one of far 
higher import—and we cannot neglect 
them without paying the penalty.” 

‘7 think that you carry these notions 
toc far, dearest Mary, and that it is pos- 
sible for man and wife most heartily to 
love each other, and to be happy in each 
other, without their thinking exactly alike 
on religion. How many good and pious 
women do you see, who are contented and 
prosperous as wives and mothers, and 
who are members of meeting, but whose 
husbands make no profession of any 
sort !’’ 


‘¢That may be true, or not. I lay no 


claim to a right to judge of any other’s | 


duties, or manner of doing what they 
ought to do. Thousands of girls marry 
without feeling the very obligations that 
they profess to reverence; and when, in 
after life, deeper convictions come, they 
cannot cast aside the connections they 
have previously formed, if they would; 
and probably would not if they could. 
That is a different thing from a young 
woman, who has a deep sense of what she 
owes to her Redeemer, becoming deliber- 
ately, and with a full sense of what she is 
doing, the wife of one who regards her 
God as merely a man—I care not how you 
qualify this opinion, by saying a pure and 
sinless man; it will be man still. The 


difference between God and man is too 


immense to be frittered away by any such 
qualifications as that.’’ 
‘‘But, if I find it ¢mpossible to believe 


all you believe, Mary, surely you would 


not punish me for having the sincerity to 
tell you the truth, and the whole truth.” 

“No, indeed, Roswell,’’? answered the 
honest girl, gently, not to say tenderly. 
‘Nothing has given me a better opinion 
of your principles, Roswell—a higher 
notion of what your upright and frank 
character really is, than the manly way 
in which you have admitted the justice of 
my suspicions of your want of faith—of 
faith, as I consider faith can alone exist. 


This fair dealing has made me honor you, 
and esteem you, in addition to the more 
girlish attachment that 1’ do not wish to 
conceal from you, at least, I have so long 
felt.’’ 

‘*Blessed Mary!’ exclaimed Roswell 
Gardiner, almost ready to fall down on 
his knees and worship the pretty en- 
thusiast who sat at his side, with a 
countenance in which intense interest in 
his welfare was beaming from two of the 
softest and sweetest blue eyes that maiden 
ever bent on a youth in modest tenderness, 
whatever disposition he might be in to 
accept her God as his God. ‘‘ How can 
one so kind in all other respects, prove so 
cruel in this one particular ! ’’ 

‘Because that one particular, as you 
term it, Roswell, is all in all to her,’’ an- 
swered the girl, with a face that was now 
flushed with feeling. ‘Il must answer 
you as Joshua told the Israelites of old— 
‘Choose you, this day, whom you will 
serve; whether the gods which your 
fathers served, that were on the other 
side of the flood, or the gods of the Amor- 
ites, in whose land ye dwell; but as for 
me and my house we will serve the 
Lord.’ ’’ 

**Do you class me with the idolators 
and pagans of Palestine? ’’ demanded 
Gardiner, reproachfully. 

‘¢<You have said it, Roswell. Itis not 
I, but yourself, who have thus classed 
you. You worship your reason, instead 
of the only true and living God. This is 
idolatry of the worst character, since the 
idolis never seen by the devotee, and he 
does not know of its existence.”’ 

“You consider it then idolatry for one 
to use those gifts which he has received 
from his Maker, and to treat the most 
important of all subjects as a rational 
being, instead of receiving a creed blindly, 
and without thought ? ”’ 

‘© Tf what you call thought could better 
the matter; if it were sufficient to com- 
prehend and master this subject, there 
might be force in what you say. But 
what is this boasted reason afterall? It 
is not sufficient to explain a single mystery 
of the creation, though there are thou- 
sands. I know there are, nay there must 


56 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


be, a variety of opinions among those who | accepted, and acceptable before God the 


look to their reasons, instead of accepting | Father. 


the doctrine of revelation, for the char- 
acter of Christ ; but I believe all who are 
not open infidels admit that the atonement 
of His death was sufficient for the salva- 
tion of men; now can you explain this 
part of the theory of our religion any more 
than you can explain the divine nature of 
the Redeemer? Can you reason any more 
wisely touching the fall than touching the 
redemption itself? I know lam unfit to 
treat of matters of this profound nature,’’ 
continued Mary, modestly, though with 
great earnestness and beauty of manner ; 
‘but, to me, it seems very plain that the 
instant circumstances lead us beyond the 
limits of our means of comprehension, we 
are to belreve in, and not to reason on, rev- 
elation. The whole history of Christianity 
teaches this. Its first ministers were unedu- 
cated men; men who were totally ignorant 
until enlightened by their faith ; and all the 
lessons it teaches are to raise faith, and 
faith in the Redeemer, high above all other 
attainments, as the one great acquisition 
that includes and colors every other. 
When such is the fact, the heart does not 
make a stumbling-block of everything that 
the head cannot understand.”’ 

‘Tt do not know how it is,’? answered 
Roswell Gardiner, influenced, though un- 
convinced ; *‘ but when I talk with you on 
the subject, Mary, I cannot do justice to 
my opinions, or to the manner in which I 
reason on them with my male friends and 
acquaintance. I confess it does appear to 
me illogical, unreasonable—I scarce know 
how to designate what I mean—but, im- 
probable, that God should suffer himself, 
or his Son, to be crucified by beings that 
he himself created, or that he should feel 
a necessity for any such course, in order 
to redeem beings he had himself brought 
into existence.’’ 

*“<Tf there be any argument in the last, 
Roswell, it is an argument as much 
against the crucifixion of a man, as 
against the crucifixion of one of the Trin- 
ity itself. I understand you to believe 
that such a being as Jesus of Nazareth did 
exist; that he was crucified for our re- 
demption; and that the atonement was 


Now is it not just as difficult to 
understand how, or why, this should be, 
as to understand the common creed of 
Christians ? ”’ 

‘‘Surely there is a vast difference be- 
tween the crucifixion of a subordinate be- 
ing, and the crucifixion of one who made a 
part of the Godhead itself, Mary! I can 
imagine the first, though I may not pre- 
tend to understand its reasons, or why it 
was necessary it should be so; but I am 
certain you will not mistake my motive 
when I say I cannot imagine the other.’’ 

‘‘Make no apologies to me, Roswell; 
look rather to that dread Being whose 
teachings, through chosen ministers, you 
disregard. As for what you say, I can 
fully feel its truth. I do not pretend to 
understand why such a sacrifice should 
be necessary, but I believe it, feel it; 
and believing and feeling it, I cannot 
but adore and worship the Son, who 
quitted heaven to come on earth, and 
suffered, that we might possess eternal 
life. It is all mystery to me, as is the 
creation itself, our existence, God himself, 
and all else that my mind is too limited to 
comprehend. But, Roswell, if I believe a 
part of the teachings of the Christian 
church, I must believe all. The apostles, 
who were called by Christ in person, who 
lived in his very presence, who knew noth- 
ing except as the Holy Spirit prompted, 
worshiped him as the Son of God, as one 
‘who thought it not robbery to be equal 
with God ;’ and shall IJ, ignorant and un- 
inspired, pretend to set up my feeble means ~ 
of reasoning, in opposition to their written 
instructions ! ”’ 

“Yet must each of us stand or fall by 
the means he possesses, and the use he 
makes of them.’’ 

‘“That is quite true, Roswell; and ask 
yourself the use to which you put your 
own faculties. I do not deny that we are 
to exercise our reason, but it is within the 
bounds set for its exercise. We may ex- 
amine the evidence of Christianity and 
determine for ourselves how far it is sup- 
ported by reasonable and sufficient proofs, 
beyond this we cannot be expected to go, 
else might we be required to comprehend 


THE 


the mystery of our own existence, which 
just as much exceeds our understanding 
as any other. Weare told that man was 
created in thé image of his Creator. which 
means that there is an immortal and 
spiritual part of him that is entirely differ- 
ent from the material creature. One per- 
ishes, temporarily at least—a limb can be 
severed from the body and perish, even 
while the body survives ; but it is not so 
with that which has been created in the 
image of the Deity. That is imperishable, 
immortal, spiritual, though doomed to 
dwell awhile in a tenement of clay. Now 
why is it more difficult to believe that 
pure divinity may have entered into the 
person of one man, than to believe, nay 
to feel, that the image of God has entered 
into the persons of so many myriads of 
men? You not only overlook all this, Ros- 
well, but you commit the, to me inex- 
plicable, mistake of believing a part of a 
mystery, while you hesitate about believ- 
ingall. Were you to deny the merits of 
the atonement altogether, your position 
would be much stronger than it is in be- 
lieving what you do. But, Roswell, we 
will not embitter the moment of separa- 
tion by talking more on this subject now. 
I have otlger things to say to you, and but 
little time to say them in. The promise 
you have asked of me to remain single 
until your return, I most freely make. It 
costs me nothing to give you this pledge, 
since there is scarce a possibility of my 
ever marrying another.”’ 

Mary repeated these words, or rather 
‘this idea in other words, to Roswell Gar- 
diner’s great delight; and again and 
again he declared that he could now pene- 
trate the icy seas with a light heart, con- 
fident he should find her, on his return, 
disengaged, and, as he hoped, as much 
disposed to regard him with interest as 
she then was. Nevertheless, Gardiner 
did not deceive himself as to Mary’s inten- 
tions. He knew her and her principles 
too well to fancy that her resolution 
would be very likely to falter. Notwith- 
standing their long and intimate knowl- 
edge of each other, at no time had she 
ever betrayed a weakness that promised 
to undermine her high sense of duty; and 


SHA LIONS. 


57 


as time increased her means of judging of 
what those duties were, her submission to 
them seemed to be stronger and stronger. 
Had there been anything stern or repul- 
sive in Mary’s manner of manifesting the 
feeling that was uppermost in her mind, 
one of Roswell Gardiner’s temperament 
would have been very apt to shake off her 
influence ; but, so far from this being the 
case, she ever met him and parted from 
him with a gentle and ingenuous interest 
in his welfare, and occasionally with 
much womanly tenderness. He knew 
that she prayed for him daily, as fervent- 
ly as she prayed for herself; and even 
this, he hoped, would serve to keep alive 
her interest in him during his absence. In 
this respect our young sailor showed no 
bad comprehension of human nature, 
nothing being more likely to maintain an 
influence of this sort than the conviction 
that on ourselves depends the happiness 
or interests of the person beloved. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


“‘ And I have loved thee, Ocean! and my joy 
Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be 
Borne, like thy bubbles, onward; from a boy 
I wanton’d with thy breakers—they to me 
Were a delight; and if the freshening sea 
Made them a terror—’twas a pleasing fear; 
For I was, as it were, a child of thee, 
And trusted to thy billows, far and near, 
And laid my hand upon thy mane—as Ido here.’’ 

—BYRON. 


Ir was past the turn of the day when 
Roswell Gardiner reached his vessel, after 
having carefully and with manly interest 
in allthat belonged to her, seen Mary to - 
her home and taken his final leave of her. 
Of that parting we shall say but little. 
It was touching and warm-hearted, and 
it was rendered a little solemn by Mary 
Pratt’s putting into her lover’s hand a 
pocket Bible, with an earnest request that 
he would not forget to consult its pages. 
She added at the same time, that she had 
carefully marked those passages which 
she wished him most to study and reflect 
on. The book was accepted in the spirit 
in which it was offered, and carefully 
placed in a little case that contained about 
a hundred volumes of different works. 


58 WORKS 


Asthe hour approached for lifting the 
anchor, the nervousness of the deacon 
became very apparent to the commander 
of his schooner. At each instant the 
former was at the latter’s elbow, making 
some querulous suggestion, or asking a 
question that betrayed the agitated and 
unsettled state of his mind. It really 
seemed as if the old man at the last mo- 
ment had not the heart to part with his 
property, or to trust it out of his sight. 
All this annoyed Roswell Gardiner, dis- 
posed as he was, at that instant, to regard 
every person and thing that in any man- 
ner pertained to Mary Pratt with indul- 
gence and favor. 

«You will be particular about them 
islands, Captain Gar’ner, and not get the 
schooner ashore,’’ said the deacon, for 
the tenth time at least. ‘‘ They tell me 
the tide runs like a horse in the high lati- 
tudes, and that seamen are often stranded 
by them, before they know where they 
are.”’ 

«Ay, ay, sir; Pll try and bear it in 
mind,’’ answered Gardiner, vexed at being 
importuned so often to recollect that 
which there was so little likelihood of his 
forgetting. ‘‘Iam an old cruiser in those 
seas, deacon, and know all about the 
tides. Well, Mr. Hazard, what is the 
news of the anchor? ”’ 

‘‘We are short, sir, and only wait for 
orders to go on, and get clear of the 
ground.”’ 

‘Trip at once, sir; and so farewell to 
America—or to this end of it, at least.’’ 

<‘Then the keys, they tell me, are dan- 
gerous navigation, Gar’ner, and a body 
needs have all his eyes about him.”’ 

<¢ All places have their dangers to your 
sleepy navigator, deacon; but the man 
who keeps his eyes open has little to fear. 
Had you given us a chronometer, there 
would not have been one-half the risk 
there will be without one.’’ 

This had been a bone of contention be- 
tween the master of the Sea Lion and its 
owner. Chronometers were not, by any 
means, in as general use at the period of 
our tale as they are to-day; and the dea- 
con abhorred the expense to which such 
an article would have put him. Could he 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


have got one at a fourth of the customary 
price he might have been tempted ; but it 
formed no part of his principles of saving 
to anticipate and prevent waste by lib- 
erality, 

No sooner was’ the schooner released 
from the ground than her sails were filled, 
and she went by the low spit of sand al- 
ready mentioned, with the light south- 
west breeze still blowing in her favor, and 
an ebb tide. Everything appeared propi- 
tious, and no vessel probably ever left 
home under better omens. The deacon re- 
mained on board until Baiting Joe, who 
was to act as his boatman, reminded him of 
the distance and the probability that the 
breeze would go down entirely with the 
sun. ‘As it was, they had to contend with 
wind and tide, and it would require all his 
own knowledge of the eddies to get the 
whale-boat up to Oyster Pond in anything 
like reasonable time. Thus admonished, 
the owner tore himself away from his 
beloved craft, giving ‘“‘ young Gar’ner ”’ 
as many ‘‘last words ’’ as ifhe were about 
to be executed. Roswell had a last word 
on his part, however, in the shape of a 
message to Mary. 

‘¢Tell Mary, deacon,’’ said the young 
sailor, in an aside, ‘“‘that I r@y on her 
promise, and that I shall think of her, 
whether it be under the burning sun of 
the line, or among the ice of the antarc- 
tic.”’ 

“Yes, yes; that’s as it should be,” 
answered the deacon, heartily. ‘I like 
your perseverance, Gar’ner, and hope the 
gal will come round yet, ahd Ishall have 
you fora nephew. There’s nothing that 
takes the women’s minds like money. Fill 
up the schooner with skins and ile, and 
bring back that treasure, and you make 
as sure of Mary for a wife asif the parson 
had said the benediction over you.” 

Such was Deacon Pratt’s notion of his 
niece, as well as of the female sex. For 
months he regarded this speech as a coup 
de maitre, while Roswell Gardiner forgot 
it in half an hour; so much better than 
the uncle did the lover comprehend the 
character of the niece. 

The Sea Lion, of Oyster Pond, had now 
cast off the last ligament which connected 


? 


THE SEA LIONS. 


her with the land. She had no pilot, none 
being necessary, or usual, in those waters; 
all that a vessel had to do being to give 
Long Island a sufficient berth in rounding 
its eastern extremity. The boat was soon 
shut in by Gardiner’s Island, and thence- 
forth nothing remained but the ties of 
feeling to connect those bold adventurers 
with their native country. It is true that 
Connecticut, and subsequently Rhode Isl- 
and, was yet visible on one hand, and a 
small portion of New York on the other ; 
but as darkness came to close the scene, 
even that means of communication was 
soon virtually cut off. The light on Mon- 
tauk, for hours, was the sole beacon for 
these bold mariners, who rounded it about 
midnight, fairly meeting the long, rolling 
swell of the broad Atlantic. Then the 
eraft might be said to be at sea for the 
first time. 

The Sea Lion was found to perform 
well. She had been constructed with an 
eye to comfort, as well as to sailing, and 
possessed that just proportion in her hull 
which carried her over the surface of the 
waves like a duck. This quality is of 
more importance to a small than to a 
large vessel, for the want of momentum 
renders what is termed ‘‘ burying” a 
very deadening process to a light craft. 
In this very important particular Roswell 
was soon satisfied that the shipwright had 
done his duty. 

As the wind still stood at southwest, 
the schooner was brought upon an easy 
bowline, assoon as she had Montauk light 
dead to windward. This new course car- 
ried her out to sea, steering south-south- 
east, a little easterly, under everything 
that would draw. The weather appear- 
ing settled, and there being no signs of a 
change, Gardiner now went below and 
turned in, leaving the care of the vessel 
to the proper officers of the watch, with 
an order to call him at sunrise. Fatigue 
soon asserted its power, and the young 
man was shortly in as profound a sleep as 
if he had not just left a mistress whom he 
almost worshiped for an absence of two 
years, and to go ona voyage that prob- 
ably would expose him to more risks and 
suffering than any other enterprise then 


D9 


attempted by seafaring men. Our young 
sailor thought not of the last at all, but 
he fell asleep dreaming of Mary. 

The master of the Sea Lion of Oyster 
Pond was called precisely at the hour he 
had named. Five minutes sufficed to bring 
him on deck, where he found everything 
as he had left it, with the exception of the 
schooner itself. In the six hours he had 
been below, his vessel had moved her po- 
sition out to sea nearly forty miles. No 
land was now to be seen, the American 
coast being very tame and unpicturesque 
to the eye, as the purest patriot, if he hap- 
pen to know anything of other parts of 
the world, must be constrained to admit. 
A low monotonous coast, that is scarcely 
visible at a distance of five leagues, is cer- 
tainly not to be named in the same breath 
with those glorious shores of the Mediter- 
ranean, for instance, where Nature would 
seem to have exhausted herself in uniting 
the magnificent with the bewitching. On 
this continent, or on our own portion of it 
at least, we must be content with the use- 
ful, and lay no great claims to the beauti- 
ful; the rivers and bays giving us some 
compensation in their admirable commer- 
cial facilities, for the sameness, not to say 
tameness, of the views. We mention these 
things in passing, as a people that does 
not understand its relative position in the 
scale of nations, is a little apt to fall into 
errors that do not contribute to its char- 
acter or respectability ; more especially 
when they exhibit a self-love founded alto- 
gether on ignorance, and which has been 
liberally fed by flattery. 

The first thing a seaman does on com- 
ing on deck, after a short absence, is to 
look to windward, in order to see how the 
wind stands, and what are the prospects 
of the weather. Then he turns his eyes 
aloft to ascertain what canvas is spread, 
and how it draws. Occasionally, the 
order of these observations is changed, 
the first look being sometimes bestowed 
on the sails, and the second on the clouds. 
Roswell Gardiner, however, cast his first 
glance this morning toward the south- 
ward and westward, and perceived that 
the breeze promised to be steady. On 
looking aloft, he was well satisfied with 


60 WORKS 


the manner in which everything drew; 
then he turned to the second mate, who 
had the watch, whom he addressed cheer- 
fully, and with a courtesy that is not 
always observed among sailors. 

‘“‘A fine morning, sir,’’ said Roswell 
Gardiner, “‘and a good-by to America. 
We’ve a long road to travel, Mr. Green, 
but we’ve a fast boat to do itin. Here is 
an offing ready-made to our hands. Noth- 
ing in sight to the westward; not so 
much as a coaster even! It’s too early 
for the outward-bound craft of the last 
ebb, and too late for those that sailed the 
tide before. I never saw this bight of the 
coast clearer of canvas.”’ 

‘‘ Ay, ay, sir; it does seem empty, like. 
Here’s a chap, however, to leeward, who 
appears inclined to try his rate of sailing 
with us. Here he is, sir, a very little 
abaft the beam; and, as near as I can 
make him out, he’s a foretawsail schooner, 
of about our own dimensions; if you'll 
just look at him through this glass, Cap- 
tain Gar’ner, you’ll see he has not only 
our rig, but our canvas set.”’ 

‘“You are right enough, Mr. Green,’’ 
returned Roswell, after getting his look. 
“He is a schooner of about our tonnage, 
and under precisely our canvas. How 
long has the fellow bore as he does 
now? ’’ 

‘* He came out from under Block Island 
a few hours since, and we made him by 
moonlight. The question with me is, 
where did that chap come from? A Stun- 
nin’tun man would have naturally passed 
to windward of Block Island; and a New- 
port or Providence fellow would not have 
fetched so far to windward without mak- 
ing a stretch or two on purpose. That 
schooner has bothered me ever since it 
was daylight; for I can’t place him where 
he is by any traverse my poor l’arnin’ can 
work ! ”’ 

‘“‘She does seem to be out of her way. 
Possibly it is a schooner beating up for 
the Hook, and finding herself too close in, 
she is standing to the southward to get 
an offing again.’’ 

‘“Not she, sir. She came out from be- 
hind Block, and a craft of her size that 
wanted to go to the westward, and which 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


found itself so close in, would have taken 
the first of the flood and gone through the 
Race like a shot. No, no, Captain Gar’- 
ner ; this fellow is bound south as well as 
ourselves, and it is quite onaccountable 
how he should be just where he is—so far 
to windward, or so far to leeward, as a 
body might say. A south-southeast course, 
from any place behind Point Judith, would 
have taken him off near No Man’s Land, 
and here he is almost in a line with Block 
Island !’’ 

‘« Perhaps he is out of New London, or 
some of the ports on the main, and being 
bound to the West Indies he has been a 
little careless about weathering the isl- 
and. It’s no great matter, after all.’ 

‘It is some such matter, Captain Gar’- 
ner, aS walkin’ round a meetin’-us’ when 
your ar’n’d is at the door in front. But 
there was no such craft in at Stunnin’tun 
or New London, as I know from havin’ 
been at both places within the last eight- 
and-forty hours.’’ | 

‘You begin to make me as curious 
about this fellow as you seem to be your- 
self, sir. And now I think the matter all 
over, it is somewhat ext’or’nary he should 
be just where he is. It is, however, a 
very easy thing to get a nearer look at 
him, and it’s no great matter to us, in- 
tending as we do to make the islands off 
the Cape de Verde, if we do lose a little 
of our weatherly position—keep the 
schooner away a point, and get a small 
pull on your weather braces—give her a 
little sheet too, fore and aft, sir. So, 
that will do—keep her steady at that— 
southeast and by south. In two hours 
we shall just about speak this out-of-the- 
way joker.”’ 

As every command was obeyed, the 
Sea Iron was soon running off free, her 
bowlines hanging loose, and all her can- 
vas a rap full. The change in her line of 
sailing brought the sail to leeward, a lit- 
tle forward of her beam; but the move- 
ment of the vessel that made the freest 
wind was consequently the most rapid. 
In the course of half an hour the stranger 
was again a little abaft the beam, and 
he was materially nearer than when first 
seen. No change was made in the route 


THE SHA LIONS. 


of the stranger, who now seemed disposed 
to stand out to sea, with the wind, as it 
was, on an easy bowline, without paying 
any attention to the sail in sight. 

It was noon ere the two schooners came 
within hail of each other. Of course, as 
they drew nearer and nearer, it was possi- 
ble for those on board of each to note the 
appearance, equipments, and other pecul- 
iarities of his neighbor. Im size, there 
was no apparent difference between the 
vessels, and there was a somewhat re- 
markable resemblance in the details. 

‘‘That fellowis no West India drogger,’’ 
said Roswell Gardiner, when less than a 
mile from the stranger. ‘‘ He carries a 
boat on deck, as we do, and has one on 
each quarter, too. Can it be possible that 
he is bound after seals, as well as we are 
ourselves ! ”’ 

“‘T believe you’re right, sir,’’ answered 
Hazard, the chief mate, who was now on 
deck. ‘‘ There’s a sealing look about the 
gentleman, if I know my own complexion. 
It’s odd enough, Captain Gar’ner, that 
two of us should come together, out here 
in the offing, and both of us bound to the 
other end of the ’arth!’’ 

‘‘There is nothing so very remarkable 
in that, Mr. Hazard, when we remember 
that the start must be properly timed for 
those who wish to be off Cape Horn in the 
summer season. We shall neither of us 
get there much before December, and I 
suppose the master of yon schooner knows 
that as well as Ido myself. The position 
of this craft puzzles me far more than 
anything else about her. From what port 
can a vessel come, that she should be just 
here, with the wind at southwest ?”’ 

«« Ay, sir,’’ put in Green, who was mov- 
ing about the decks, coiling ropes and 
clearing things away, ‘‘ that’s what I tell 
the chief mate. Where can a craft come 
from, to be just here, with this wind, if 
she don’t come from Stunnin’tun. Even 
from Stunnin’tun she’d be out of her way ; 
but no such vessel has been in that port 
any time these six weeks. Here, you 
Stimson, come this way a bit. Didn’t 
you tell me something of having seen 
a schooner at New Bedford, that was 
about our build and burden, and that 


61 


you understood had been bought for a 
sealer ? ’’ 

“Ay, ay, sir,’’? answered Stimson, as 
bluff an old sea-dog as ever flattened in a 
jib-sheet, “‘.and that’s the craft, as ’m a 
thinkin’, Mr. Green. She had an animal 
for a figurehead, and that craft has an 
animal, as well as I can judge at this dis- 
tance.’ 

‘You are right enough there, Stephen,”’ 
cried Roswell Gardiner, ‘‘ and that animal 
isaseal. It’s the twin-brother of the sea 
lion we carry under our own bowsprit. 
There’s some proof in that, tastes agree 
sometimes, even if they do differ general- 
ly. What became of the schooner you 
saw ?’’ 

‘‘T heard, sir, that she was bought up 
by some Vineyard men, and was taken 
across to Hum’ses Hull. They sometimes 
fit out a craft there, as well as on the 
main. I should have crossed myself to 
see what they was at, but I fell in with 
Mr. Green, and shipped aboard here.”’ 

‘An adventure by which, I hope, you 
will not be a loser, my hearty,’’ put in the 
captain. ‘‘And you think that is the 
craft which was built at New Bedford, 
and fitted out on the Vineyard ? ” 

‘‘Sartain of it, sir; for 1 know the fig- 
ure-head, and all about her build.”’ 

‘Hand me the trumpet, Mr. Green; 
we shall soon be near enough fora hail, 
and it will be easy to learn the truth.”’ 

Roswell Gardiner waited a few minutes 
for the two schooners to close, and was in 
the very act of applying the trumpet to 
his mouth when the usual salutation was 
sent across the water from the stranger. 
During the conversation that now took 
place, the vessels gradually drew nearer 
to each other, until both parties laid aside 
their trumpets, and carried on the dis- 
course with the unaided voice. 

‘“‘Schooner, ahoy!’’ was the greeting 
of the stranger, and a simple “ Hilloa !’’ 
the answer. 

‘¢ What schooner is that, pray ?”’ 

«The Sea Lion, of Oyster Pond, Long 
Island; bound to the southward, after 
seal, as I suppose you know by our out- 
fit.’’ 

‘““When did you leave Oyster Pond— 


99 


62 


and how did you leave your owner, the 
good Deacon Pratt? ”’ 

“We sailed yesterday afternoon, on the 
first of the ebb, and the deacon left us as 
we weighed anchor. He was well, and 
full of hope for our luck. What schooner 
is that, pray?” 

“The Sea Lion, of Hum’ses Hull; 
bound to the southward, after seals, as 
you probably knew by our outfit. Who 
commands that schooner? ”’ 

‘‘Captain Roswell Gar’ner; who com- 
mands aboard you, pray ? ”’ 

‘Captain Jason Daggett,’’ showing 
himself more plainly, by moving out of 
the line of the main-rigging. ‘‘ I had the 
pleasure of seeing you when I was on the 
P’int, looking after my uncle’s dunnage, 
you may remember, Captain Gar’ner. 


T'was but the other day, and you are not 


likely to have forgotten my visit.”’ 

““Not at all, not at all, Captain Dag- 
gett; though I had no idea then that you 
intended making a voyage to the south- 
ward so soon. When did you leave the 
Hole, sir ? ”’ 

“‘Day before yesterday, a’ternoon. 
We came out of the Hull about five 
onclock.’? 

‘* How had you the wind, sir ? ”’ 

‘“Sou’west, and sou’west and by south. 
There has been but little change in that 
these three days.’ 

Roswell Gardiner muttered something 
to himself; but he did not deem it pru- 
dent to utter the thoughts that were just 
then passing through his mind aloud. 

“Ay, ay,’? he answered, after a mo- 
ment’s pause, ‘‘the wind has stood there 
the whole week; but I think we shall 
shortly geta change. There is an easterly 
feeling in the air.”’ 

“Waal, let it come. With this offing, 
we could clear Hatteras with anything 
that wasn’t worse than a_ southeaster. 
There’s a southerly set in here down the 
coast for two or three hundred miles.’’ 

“A heavy southeaster would jam us 
in here between the shoals in a way I 
shouldn’t greatly relish, sir. L like always 
to get to the eastward of the Stream, as 
soon as I can, in running off the land.’’ 

“Very true, Captain Gar’ner—very 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


true, sir. It zs best to get outside the 
Stream, if a body can. Once there, I call 
a craft at sea. Hight-and-forty hours 
more of this wind would just about carry 
us there. Waal, sir, as we’re bound on 
the same sort of v’g’ge, I’m happy to 
have fallen in with you; and I see no rea- 
son why we should not be neighborly, and 
‘gam’ it a little, when we’ve nothing 
better to do. I liked that schooner of 
yours so well that I’ve made my own to 
look as nearly resembling her as I could. 
You see our paint is exactly the same.” 

‘““T have observed that, Captain Dag- 
gett; and you might say the same of the 
figureheads.”’ . 

‘‘ Ay, ay ; when I was over on the P’int, 
they told me the name. of the carver in 
Boston who cut your seal, and I sent to 
him to cut me a twin. If they lay ina 
shipyard, side by side, I don’t think you 
could tell one from the other.’ 

“So it seems, sir. Pray, haven’t you 
aman aboard there of the name of Wat- 
son? ”’ 

‘““Ay, ay—he’s my second mate. I 
know what you mean, Captain Gar’ner— 
you're right enough, ’tis the same hand 
who was aboard you; but wanting a 
second officer, I offered him the berth, and 
he thought that better than taking a fore- 
mast lay in your craft.” | 

This explanation probably satisfied all 
who heard it, though the truth was not 
more than half told. In point of fact, 
Watson was engaged as Daggett’s second 
mate before he ever laid eyes on Roswell 
Gardiner, and had been sent to watch the 
progress of the work on Oyster Pond, as 
has been previously stated. It was so 
much in the natural order of events for a 
man to accept preferment when offered, 
however, that even Gardiner himself 
blamed the delinquent for the desertion 
far less than he had previously done. In 
the meantime, the conversation proceeded. 

“You told us nothing of your having 
that schooner fitting when you were on 
the Point,’’ observed Roswell Gardiner, 
whose thoughts just then happened to 
advert to this particular fact. 

‘‘My mind was pretty much taken up 
with the affairs of my poor uncle, I sup- 


THE SHA LIONS. 


pose, Captain Gar’ner. Death must visit 


each of us once ; nevertheless, it makes 


us all melancholy when he comes among 


— friends.’’ 


changed. 


Now Roswell Gardiner was not in the 
least sentimental, nor had he the smallest 
turn toward indulging in moral inferences 
from ordinary events; but this answer 
seemed so proper that it found no objec- 
tion in his mind. Still, the young man 
had his suspicions on the subject of the 
equipment of the other schooner, and sus- 
picions that were now active and keen, 
and which led him directly to fancy that 
Daggett had also some clew to the very 
objects he was after himself. Singular as 
it may seem at first, Deacon Pratt’s in- 
terests were favorably affected by this 
unexpected meeting with the Sea Lion of 
Holmes’s Hole. From the first, Roswell 
Gardiner had been indisposed to give f il 
credit to the statements of the deceased 
mariner, ascribing no small part of his 
account to artifice, stimulated by a desire 
to render himself important. But, now 
that he found one of this man’s family em- 
barked in an enterprise similar to his own, 
his views of its expediency were sensibly 
Perfectly familiar with the 
wary economy with which every interest 
was regulated in that part of the world, 
he did not believe a company of Martha’s 
Vineyard men would risk their money in 
an enterprise that they had not good 
reasons for believing would succeed. 

Although it exceeded his means to ap- 
preciate fully the information possessed by 
the Vineyard folks, and covetousness did 
not quicken his faculties on this subject, 
as they had quickened those of the deacon, 
he could see enough to satisfy his mind 
that either the sealing-islands, or the booty 
of the pirates, or both, had a reality, in 
the judgment of others, which had induced 


- them also to risk their money in turning 


their knowledge to account. The effect 
of this conviction was very natural. It 


‘induced Roswell to regard the charts, and 


his instructions, and all connected with 


his voyage, as much more serious matters 


than he had originally been inclined to do. 
Until now, he had thought it well enough 
to let the deacon have his fancies, relying 


63 


on his own ability to obtain a cargo for 
the schooner, by visiting sealing stations 
where he had been before; but now he 
determined to steer at once for Daggett’s 
Islands, as he and his owner named the 
land revealed to them, and ascertain what 
could be done there. He thought it prob- 
able the other Sea Lion might wish to 
keep him company; but the distance was 
so great that a hundred occasions must 
occur when it would be in his power to 
shake off such a consort, should he deem 
it necessary. 

For several hours the two schooners 
stood on in company, keeping just with- 
out hailing distance apart, and sailing so 
nearly alike as to render it hard to say 
which craft had the best. fit. There was 
no hing remarkable in the fact that two 
vessels, built for the same trade, should 
have a close general resemblance to each 
other; but it was not common to find 
them so molded, sparred, and handled, 
that their rate of sailing should be nearly 
identical. If there was any difference, it 
was slightly in favor of the Sea Lion of . 
the Vineyard, which rather drew ahead 
of her consort, if consort the other Sea 
Inon could be termed, in the course of 
the afternoon. 

It is scarcely necessary to say that 
many were the speculations that were 
made on board these rival vessels—com- 
petitors now for the commonest glories of 
their pursuits, as well as in the ultimate 
objects of their respective voyages. On 
the part of Roswell Gardiner and his two 
mates, they did not fail, in particular, to 
comment on the singularity of the circum- 
stance that the Sea Lion of the Vineyard 
should be so far out of her direct line of 
sailing. 

‘Although we have had the wind at 
sow-west’’ (sow-west always, as pro- 
nounced by every seaman, from the Lord 
High Admiral of England, when there 
happens to be such a functionary, down 
to the greenest hand on board the green- 
est sealer) ‘‘for these last few days,’’ said 
Hazard, ‘‘ anybody can see we shall soon 
have easterly weather. There’s an east- 
erly feel in the air, and all last night the 
water had an easterly glimmer about it. 


64 


Now why a man who came out of the 
Vineyard Sound, and who had nothing 
to do but just to clear the west end of his 
own island, and then lay his course off 
yonder to the southward, and eastward, 
should bear up cluss (Anglicé, close) under 
Block, and stretch out to sea, for all the 
world as if he was a Stunnin’tun chap, or 
a New Lunnoner, that had fallen a little 
to leeward, is more than I can under- 
stand, Captain Gar’ner! Depend on it, 
sir, there’s a reason for’t. Men don’t put 
schooners into the water, nowadays, and 
give them costly outfits, with three whale- 
boats, and sealin’ gear in abundance, just 
for the fun of making fancy traverses on 
or off a coast, like your yacht gentry, 
who never kno y what they would be at, 
and who never make a v’y’ge worth 
speaking on.”’ 

“T have been turning 1ll this over in 
my mind, Mr. Hazard,’’ answered the 
young master, wao was amusing himself 
at the moment with strapping a small 
block, while he threw many a glance 
at the vessel that was just as close under 
his lee as comported with her sailing. 
‘‘There is a reason for it, as you say; 
but I can find no other than the fact that 
she has come so much out of her way, in 
order to fall in with ws ; knowing that we 
were to come around Montauk at a par- 
ticular time.”’ 

‘Well, sir, that may have been her 
play! Men bound the same way often 
wish to fall into good company, to make 
the journey seem the shorter, by making 
it so much the pleasanter.”’ 

“‘Those fellows can never suppose the 


two schooners will keep in sight of each. 


other from forty-one degrees north all the 
way to seventy south, or perhaps further 
south still! If we remain near each 
other a week, ’twill be quite out of the 
common way.” 

*‘T don’t know that, sir. I was once in 
a sealer that, do all she could, couldn’t 
get shut of a curious neighbor. When 
seals are scarce, and the master don’t 
know where to look for ’em, he is usually 
glad to drop into some vessel’s wake, if it 
be only to pick up her leavin’s.”’ 


‘* Outfits are not made on such chances | 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


as that. These Vineyard people know 
where they are going as well as we know 
ourselves; perhaps better.’ 

‘‘ There is great confidence aboard here, 
in the master, Captain Gar’ner. I over- 
heard the watch talking the matter over 
early this morning; and there was but 
one opinion among them, I can tell you, 
sir.?’ 7 

‘‘Which opinion was, Mr. Hazard——’’ 

“That a lay aboard this craft would be: 
worth a lay and a half aboard any other 
schooner out of all America! Sailors go 
partly on skill and partly on luck. I’ve 
known hands that wouldn’t ship with the 
best masters that ever sailed a vessel, if 
they didn’t think they were lucky as well 
as skillful.’ 

“‘ Ay, ay, it’s all luck! Little do these 
fellows think of Providence—or of deserv- 
ing, or undeserving. Well, I hope the 
schooner will not disappoint them—or her 
master, either. But, whaling and sealing, 
and trusting to the chances of the ocean, 
and our most flattering hopes, may mis- 
lead us after all.”’ 

““Ay, ay, sir; nevertheless, Captain 
Gar’ner has a name, and men will trust 
to it!” a 

Our young master could not but be flat- 
tered at this, which came ata favorable 
moment to sustain the resolutions awak- 
ened by the competition with the rival 
schooner. Although so obviously com- 
petitors, and that in a matter of trade, the 
interest which above all others is apt to 
make men narrow-minded and hostile to 
each other, though the axiom would 
throw this particular reproach on doctors, 
there were no visible signs that the two 
vessels did not maintain the most amica- 
ble relations. As the day advanced the 
wind feli, and after many passages of 
nautical compliments, by means of signals 
and the trumpet, Roswell Gardiner fairly 
lowered a boat into the water, and went 
a “ gamming,’’ as it is termed, on board ~ 
the other schooner. 

Each of these little vessels was well pro- 
vided with boats, and those of the descrip- 
tion in common use among whalers. A 
whale-boat differs from the ordinary jolly- 
boat, launch, or yawl—gigs, barges, din- 


! } 


, as “pull on ; 
-* stead of with a rudder, in order that the 


THE SEA LIONS. 65 


guis, etc., etc., being exclusively for the 


v ‘service of vessels of war—in the following 


- particulars, viz :—It is sharp at both ends 
in order that it may “‘back off” as well 
”? it steers with an oar in- 


bows may be thrown round to avoid dan- 
ger when not in motion; it is buoyant, and 
made to withstand the shock of waves at 
both ends; and it is light and shallow, 


- though strong, that it may be pulled with 


facility. When it is remembered that one 
of these little egg-shells—little as vessels, 
though of good size as boats—is often 
dragged through troubled waters at the 
rate of ten or twelve knots, and frequent- 
ly at even a swifter movement, one can 
easily understand how much depends on 
its form, buoyancy and strength. Among 
seamen it is commonly thought that a 
whale-boat is the safest craft of the sort 
in which men can trust themselves in 
rough water. 


Captain Daggett received his guest 


with marked civility, though in a quiet, 
eastern way. The rum and water were 
produced and a friendly glass was taken 
by one after the other. The two masters 
drank to each other’s success, and many 
a conventional remark was made _ be- 
tween them on the subject of sea-lions, 
sea-elephants, and the modes of captur- 
ing such animals. Even Watson, semi- 
deserter as he was, was shaken cordially 
by the hand, and his questionable con- 
duct overlooked. The ocean has many of 
the aspects of eternity, and often dis- 
poses mariners to regard their fellow- 
creatures with an expansiveness of 
feeling suited to their common _ situa- 
tions. Its vastness: reminds them of the 
time that has neither beginning nor end ; 
its ceaseless movement, of the never- 
tiring impulses of human passions; and 
its accidents and dangers, of the Provi- 
dence which protects all alike, and which 
alone prevents our being abandoned to 
the dominion of chance. 

Roswell Gardiner was a kind-hearted 
man, moreover, and was inclined to judge 
his fellows leniently. Thus it was that 
his ‘‘ good evening’’ at parting to Wat- 
son was just as frank and sincere as 

IV .—3 


that he bestowed on Captain Daggett 
himself. 


re 


CHAPTER IX. 


“* Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean—roll ! 
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain; 
Man marks the earth with ruin—his control 
Stops with the shore ;—upon the watery plain 
The wrecks are all thy deeds, nor doth remain 
A shadow of man’s ravage, save his own, 
When for a moment, like a drop of rain, 

He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, 
Without a grave, unknell’d, uncoffin’d, and 
unknown.”’ —BYRON. 


THAT evening the sun set in clouds, 
though the eastern horizon was compara- 
tively clear. There was, however, an un- 
natural outline to objects, by which their 
dimensions were increased, and in some 
degree rendered indefinite. We do not 
know the reason why the wind at east 
should produce these phenomena, nor do 
we remember ever to have met with any - 
attempt at a solution; but of the fact we 
are certain, by years of observation, In 
what is called ‘‘ easterly weather,’’ ob- 
jects are seen through the medium of a 
refraction that is entirely unknown in a 
clear northwester; the crests of the seas 
emit a luminous light that is far more ap- 
parent than at other times; and the face 
of the ocean, at midnight, often wears the 
aspect of a cloudy day. The nerves, too, 
answer to this power of the eastern winds. 
We have a barometer within that can tell 
when the wind is east without looking. 
abroad, and one that never errs. It is 
true that allusions are often made to these 
peculiarities, but where are we to look for 
the explanation? On the coast of Ameri- 
ca the sea breeze comes from the rising 
sun, while on that of Europe it blows from 
the land; but no difference in these signs 
of its influence could-we ever discover on 
account of this marked distinction. 

Roswell Gardiner found the scene great- 
ly changed when he came on deck next 
morning. The storm, which had _ been 
brewing so long, had come at last, and 
the wind was blowing a little gale from 
the southeast. The quarter from which 
the air came had compelled the officer of 
the watch to haul up on the larboard tack, 


66 WORKS OF 


or with the schooner’s head to the south- 
ward and westward; a course that might 
do for a few days, provided it did not blow 
too heavily. The other tack would not 
have cleared the shoals, which stretched 
away to a considerable distance to the 
eastward. Hazard had got in his flying- 
jib, and had taken the bonnets off his fore 
sail and jib, to prevent the craft burying. 
He had also single-reefed his mainsail and 
fore-topsail. The Sea Lion of the Vine- 
yard imitated each movement, and was 
brought down precisely to the same can- 
vas as her consort, and on the same tack. 
At that moment the two vessels were not 
a cable’s length asunder, the Oyster 
Ponders being slightly to leeward. Their 
schooner, however, had a trifling advan- 
tage in sailing when it blew fresh and 
the water was rough; which advantage 
was now making itself apparent, as the 
two craft struggled ahead through the 
troubled element. 

“‘T wish we were two hundred miles to 
the eastward,’’ observed the young mas- 
ter to his first officer, as soon as his eye 
had taken in the whole view. ‘‘I am 
afraid we shall get jammed in on Cape 
Hatteras. That place is always in the 
way with the wind at southeast and a 
vessel going to the southward. We are 
likely to have a dirty time of it, Mr. 
Hazard.”’ 

«Ay, ay, sir, dirty enough,’’ was the 
careless answer. ‘‘ I’ve known them that 
would go back and anchor in Fort Pond 
Bay, or even in Gardiner’s, until this 
-southeaster has blown itself out.’’ 

“‘T couldn’t think of that! Weare a 
hundred miles southeast of Montauk, and 
if I run the craft into any place, it shall 
be into Charleston, or some of the islands 
along that coast. Besides, we can always 
ware off the land, and place ourselves a 
day’s run further to the southward, and 
we can then give the shoals a wide berth 
on the other tack. If we were in the 
bight of the coast between Long Island 
and Jersey, ’twould be another matter ; 
but, out here, where we are, I should be 
ashamed to look the deacon in the face, if 
I didn’t hold on.”’ ' 

“TJ only made the remark, Captain 


ee eee 


FENIMORE COOPER. 


Gar’ner, by way of saying something. 
As for getting to the southward, close in 
with our own coast, I don’t know that it 
will be of much use to a craft that wishes 
to stand so far to the eastward, since the 
trades must be met well to windward, or 
they had better not be met at all. For 
my part, I would as soon take my chance 
of making a passage to the Cape de 
Verds or their neighborhood, by lifting 
my anchor from Gardiner’s Bay, three 
days hence, as by meeting the next shift 
of wind down south, off Charleston or 
Tybee.”’ 

‘We should only be five hundred miles 
to windward, in the latter case, did the 
wind come from the southwest again, as 
at this season of the year it is very likely 
to do. But it is of no consequence; men 
bound where we have to go, ought not to 
run into port every time the wind comes 
out foul. You know as well as I do, Mr. 
Hazard, that away down south, yonder, 
a fellow thinks a gale of wind is a relief, 
provided it brings clear water with it. I 
would rather run a week among’ islands, 
than a single day among icebergs. One 
knows where to find land, for that never 
moves; but your mountains that float 
about, are here to-day, and there to- 
morrow.”’ 

*‘Quite true, sir,’? returned Hazard ; 
‘‘and men that take their lays in sealers, 
are not to expect anything but squalls. 
I’m ready to hold on as long as our neigh- 
bor yonder: he seems to be trimming 
down to it, as if in raal earnest to get 
ahead.’’ 

This was true enough. The Sea Lion 
of the Vineyard was doing her best, all 
this time ; and though unable to keep her 
station on her consort’s weather bow, 
where she had been most of the morning, 
she was dropped so very slowly as to ren- 
der the change nearly imperceptible. Now 
it was, that the officers and crews of these 
two crafts watched their ‘‘ behavior,’’ as 
it is technically termed, with the closest 
vigilance and deepest interest. Those in 
the Oyster Pond vessel regarded the move- 
ments of their consort, much as a belle in 
a ball-room observes the effect produced 
by the sister belles around her; or a rival 


THE SHA LIONS. 


physician notes the progress of an opera- 
tion that is to add new laurels, or to cause 
old ones to wither. Now, the lurch was 
commented on; then, the pitch was 
thought to be too heavy; and Green 
was soon of opinion that their competitor 
was not as easy on her spars as their own 
schooner. In short, every comparison 
that experience, jealousy, or skill could 
suggest, was freely made; and somewhat 
as a matter of course, in favor of their 
own vessel. That which was done on 
‘board the Sea Lion of Oyster Pond, was 
very freely emulated by those on board 
her namesake of the Vineyard. They 
made their comparisons, and formed thezr 
conclusions, with the same deference to 
self-esteem, and the same submission to 
hope, as had been apparent among their 
competitors. It would seem to be a law 
of nature that men should thus flatter 
themselves, and perceive the mote in the 
eye of their neighbor, while the beam in 
their own escapes. 

Had there been an impartial judge pres- 
ent, he might have differed from both 
sets of critics. Such a person would have 
seen that one of these schooners excelled 
in this quality, while the other had an 
equal advantagein another. In this way, 
by running through the list of properties 
that are desirable in a ship, he would, 
most probably, have come to the conclu- 
sion that there was not much to choose 
between the two vessels; but that each 
had been constructed with an intelligent 
regard to the particular service in which 
she was about to be employed, and both 
were handled by men who knew perfectly 
well how to take care of craft of that 
description. 

The wind gradually increased in 
strength, and sail was shortened in the 
schooners, until each was finally brought 
down to a close-reefed foresail. This 
would have been heaving the vessels to, 
had they not been kept a little off, in order 
to force them through the water. To lie- 
to, in perfection, some after-sail might 
have been required; but neither master 
saw a necessity, as yet, of remaining 
stationary. It was thought better to 
wade along some two knots, than to be 


67 


pitching and lurching with nothing but a 
drift, or leeward set. In this, both mas- 
ters were probably right, and found their 
vessels farther to windward in the end, 
than if they had endeavored to hold their 
own, by lying-to. The great difficulty 
they had to contend with, in keeping a 
little off, was the danger of seas coming 
on board; but, as yet, the ocean was not 
sufficiently aroused to make this very 
hazardous, and both schooners, having no 
real cargoes, were light and buoyant, and 
floated dry. Had they encountered the 
sea there was, with full freights in their 
holds, it might have been imprudent to 
expose them even to this remote chance of 
having their decks swept. Water comes 
aboard of small vessels almost without an 
exception, in head winds and seas ; though 
the contrivances of modern naval archi- 
tecture have provided defences that make 
merchant vessels, now, infinitely more 
comfortable, in this respect, than they 
were at the period of which we are writ- 
ing. 

At the end of three days, Roswell Gar- 
diner supposed himself to be about the 
latitude of Cape Henry, and some thirty 
or forty leagues from the land. It was 
much easier to compute the last, than the 
first of these material facts. Of course, 
he had no observations. The sun had not 
been visible since the storm commenced, 
and nearly half the time, during the last 
day, the two vessels were shut in from 
one another, by mists and a small rain. 
It blew more in squalls than it had done, 
and the relative positions of the schooners 
were more or less affected by the circum- 
stance. Sometimes, one would be to 
windward, and ahead; then, the other, 
would obtain a similar advantage. Once 
or twice they seemed about to separate, 
the distance between them getting to be 
so considerable, as apparently to render it 
impossible to keep in company; then the 
craft would change places, by a slow pro- 
cess, passing quite near to each other 
again. No one could tell, at the moment, 
precisely why these variations occurred ; 
though the reasons, generally, were well 
understood by all on board them. Squalls, 
careless steering, currents, eddies, and all 


68 


the accidents of the ocean, contribute to 
create these vacillating movements, which 
will often cause two vessels of equal speed, 
and under the same canvas, to seem to be 
of very different qualities. In the nights, 
the changes were greatest, often placing 
the schooners leagues asunder, and seem- 
ingly separating them altogether. But 
Roswell Gardiner became satisfied that 
Captain Daggett stuck by him intention- 
ally; for on all such occasions if his 
schooner happened to be out of the way, 
he managed to close again, ere the danger 
of separating became too great to be 
overcome. 

Our mariners judged of their distance 
from the land by means of the lead. If 
the American coast is wanting in the sub- 
lime and picturesque, and every traveler 
must admit its defects in both, it has the 
essential advantage of graduated sound- 
ings. So regular is the shoaling of the 
water, and so studiously have the fathoms 
been laid down, that a cautious navigator 
can always feel his way in to the coast, 
and never need place his vessel on the 
beach, as is so often done, without at least 
knowing that he was about to do so. Men 
become adventurous by often-repeated 
success ; and the struggles of competition, 
the go-ahead-ism of the national charac- 
ter, and the trouble it gives to sound in 
deep water, all contribute to cast away 
the reckless and dashing navigator, on 
this as well as on other coasts, and this to 
his own great surprise; but, whenever 
such a thing does happen, unless in cases 
of stress of weather, the reader may rest 
assured it is because those who have had 
charge of the stranded vessel have neg- 
lected to sound. The mile-stones on a 
highway do not more accurately note the 
distances, than does the lead on nearly the 
whole of the American coast. Thus Ros- 
well Gardiner judged himself to be about 
thirty-two or three marine leagues from 
the land, on the evening of the third day 
of that gale of wind. He placed the 
schooner in the latitude of Cape Henry on 
less certain data, though that was the lat- 
itude in which he supposed her to be. by 
dead reckoning. 

‘7 wish I knew where Daggett makes 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


himself out,’’ said the young master, just 
as the day closed on a most stormy and 
dirty-looking night. ‘‘I don’t half like 
the appearance of the weather; but I do 
not wish to ware off the land, with that 
fellow ahead and nearer to the danger, if 
there be any, than we are ourselves.’’ 

Here Roswell Gardiner manifested a 
weakness that lies at the bottom of half 
our blunders. He did not like to be out- 
done by a competitor, even in his mis- 
takes. Ifthe Sea Lion of Holmes’s Hole 
could hold on, on that tack, why might 
not the Sea Lion of Oyster Pond do the 
same? It is by this process of human 
vanity that men sustain each other in 
wrong, and folly obtains the sanction of 
numbers, if not that of reason. In this prac- 
tice we see one of the causes of the masses 
becoming misled, and this seldom happens 
without their becoming oppressive. 

Roswell Gardiner, however, did not 
neglect the lead. The schooner had mere- 
ly to luff close to the wind, and they were 
in a proper state to sound. This they did 
twice during that night, and with a very 
sensible diminution in the depth of the 
water. It was evident that the schooner 
was getting pretty close in on the coast, 
the wind coming out nearly at south, in 
squalls. Her commander held on, for he 
thought there were indications of a 
change, and he still did not like to ware 
so long as his rival of the Vineyard kept 
on the larboard tack. In this way, each 
encouraging the other in recklessness, did 
these two craft run nearly into the lion’s 
jaw, as it might be; for, when the day 
reappeared, the wind veered round to the 
eastward, a little northerly, bringing the 
craft directly on a lee-shore, blowing at 
the time so heavily as to render a foresail 
reefed down to a mere rag more canvas 
than the little vessels could well bear. 

As the day returned, and the drizzle 
cleared off a little, land was seen to lee- 
ward, stretching slightly to seaward, both 
ahead and astern! On consulting his 
charts, and after getting a pretty good 
look at the coast from aloft, Roswell 
Gardiner became satisfied that he was 
off Currituck, which placed him near six 
degrees to the southward of his port of 


THE SHA LIONS. 


departure, and about four to the west- 


ward. Our young man now deeply felt 


‘that a foolish rivalry had led him into an 


error, and he regretted that he had not 
wore the previous evening, when he might 
have had an offing that would have en- 


abled him to stand in either direction, 
clearing the land. As things were, he 


was not by any means certain of the 


course he ought to pursue. 
Little did Gardiner imagine that the 


reason why Daggett had thus stood on, 


was solely the wish to keep him company ; 
for that person, in consequence of Gar- 


_diner’s running so close in toward the 


coast, had taken up the notion that the 
Sea Lion of Oyster Pond meant to pass 
through the West Indies, visiting the key 
which was thought to contain treasure, 
and of which he had some accounts that 
had aroused all his thirst for gold, with- 
out giving him the clew necessary to ob- 
tain it. Thus it was that a mistaken 


- watchfulness on one side, and a mistaken 


pride on the other, had brought these two 


' vessels into as dangerous a position as 
could have been obtained for them by a 


direct attempt to place them in extreme 


_ jeopardy. 


About ten, the gale was at its height, 
the wind still hanging at east, a little 
northerly. In the course of the morning, 


the officers on board both schooners, 
profiting by lulls and clear moments, 


ive situations. 


had got so many views of the land from 
aloft, as to be fully aware of their respect- 
All thoughts of competi- 


_ tion and watchfulness had now vanished. 


have been foreseen when 


Each vessel was managed with a refer- 
ence solely to her safety; and, as might 
true seamen 
handled both, they had recourse to the 
Same expedients to save themselves. The 
mainsails of both crafts were set balance- 


_ reefed, and the hulls were pressed up 
_ against the wind and sea, while they were 


bone whip-handle, 
_ when this new experiment had been tried 
_ some ten minutes or more. 


. 


- driven ahead with increased momentum. 


“That mainmast springs like a whale- 
sir,’’ said Hazard, 


‘‘She jumps 
from one sea to another, like a frog ina 
hurry to hop into a puddle! ”’ 


69 


‘* She must stand it, or go ashore,’’ an- 
swered Gardiner, coolly, though in secret 
he was deeply concerned. ‘‘ Did Deacon 
Pratt forgive me, should we lose the 
schooner, I never could forgive myself ! ”’ 

‘*Should we lose the schooner, Captain 
Gar’ner, few of us would escape drown- 
ing, to feel remorse or joy. Look at that 
coast, sir—it is clear now, and a body can 
See a good bit of it—never did I put eyes 
upon a less promising landfall for strang- 
ers to make.”’ 

Roswell Gardiner did look as desired, 
and he fully agreed with Hazard in opin- 
ion. Ahead and astern the land trended 
to seaward, placing the schooners in a 
curve of the coast, or what seamen term 
a bight, rendering it quite impossible for 
the vessels to lay out past either of the 
headlands in sight. The whole coast was 
low, and endless lines of breakers were 
visible along it, flashing up with luminous 
crests that left no doubt of their charac- 
ter, or of the dangers that they so plainly 
denoted. At times, columns of water 
shot up into the air like enormous jets, 
and the spray was carried inland for 
miles. Then it was that gloom gathered 
around the brows of the seamen, who 
fully comprehended the nature of the 
danger that was so plainly indicated. 
The green hands were the least con- 
cerned, ‘‘ knowing nothing and fearing 
nothing,’’ as the older seamen are apt to 
express their sense of this indifference on 
the part of the boys and landsmen. 

According to the calculations of those 
on board the Sea Lion of Oyster Pond, 
they had about two miles of drift before 
they should be in the breakers. They 
were on the best tack, to all appearances, 
and that was the old one, or the same leg 
that had carried them into the bight. 
To ware now, indeed, would be a very 
hazardous step, since every inch of room 
was of importance. Gardiner’s secret 
hope was that they might find the inlet 
that led into Currituck, which was then 
open, though we believe it has since been 
closed, in whole or in part, by the sands. 
This often happens on the American coast, 
very tolerable passages existing this year 
for vessels of an easy draught, that shall 


70 


be absolutely shut up, and be converted 
into visible beach, a few years later. The 
waters within will then gain head, and 
break out, cutting themselves a channel 
that remains open until a succession of 
gales drives inthe sands upon them from 
the outside once more. 

Gardiner well knew he was on the most 
dangerous part of the whole American 
coast, in one sense at least. The capa- 
cious sounds that spread themselves 
within the long beaches of sand were 
almost as difficult of navigation as any 
shoals to the northward; yet would he 
gladly have been in one, in preference to 
clawing off breakers on their outside. As 
between the two schooners, the Vineyard 
men had rather the best of it, being 
near a cable’s length to windward, and so 
much farther removed from destruction. 
The difference, however, was of no great 
account in the event of the gale continu- 
ing, escape being utterly impossible for 
either in that case. So critical was the 
situation of both craft becoming, indeed, 
that neither could now afford to vield a 
single fathom of the ground she held. 

All eyes were soon looking for the inlet, 
it having been determined to keep the 
Sea Inon of Oyster Pond away for it, 
should it appear to leeward, under cir- 
cumstances that would allow of her reach- 
ing it. The line of breakers was now 
very distinctly visible, and each minute 
did it not only appear to be, but it was 
in fact nearer and nearer. Anchors were 
cleared away, and ranges of cable over- 
hauled, anchoring being an expedient that 
a seaman felt bound to resort ta, previous- 
ly to going ashore, though it would be 
with very little hope of ground-tackles 
holding. | 

The schooner had been described by 
Hazard as ‘‘ jumping ’”’ into the sea. This 
expression is not a bad one, as applied to 
small vessels in short seas, and it was 
particularly apt on this occasion. Al- 
though constructed with great care for- 
ward as to buoyancy, this vessel made 
plunges into the waves she met that near- 
ly buried her; and, once or twice, the 
shocks were so great, that those on board 
her could with difficulty persuade them- 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


selves they had not struck the bottom. 
The lead, nevertheless, still gave water 
sufficient, though it was shoaling fast, 
and with a most ominous regularity. Such 
was the actual state of things when the 
schooner made one of her mad plunges, 
and was met by a force that seemed to 
check her forward movement as effectu- 
ally as if she had hit a rock. The main- 
mast was a good spar in some respects, 
but it wanted wood. An inch or two more 
in diameter might have saved it; but the 
deacon had been induced to buy it to save 
his money, though remonstrated with at 
the time. This spar now snapped in two, 
a few feet from the deck, and falling te 
leeward, it dragged after it the head of 
the foremast, leaving the Sea Lion of Oys- 
ter Pond actually in a worse situation, 
just at that moment, than if she had no 
spars at all. 

Roswell Gardiner now appeared in a 
new character. Hitherto he had been 
silent, but observant; issuing his orders 
in a way not to excite the men, and with 
an air of unconcern that really had the 
effect to mislead most of them on the sub- 
ject of his estimate of the danger they 
were in. Concealment, however, was no 
longer possible, and our young master 
came out as active as circumstances re- 
quired, foremost in every exertion, and 
issuing his orders amid the gale trumpet- 
tongued. His manner, so full of anima- 
tion, resolution, and exertion, probably 
prevented despair from getting the as- 
cendency at that important moment. He 
was nobly sustained by both his mates; 
and three or four of the older seamen now 
showed themselves men to be relied on to 
the last. 

The first step was to anchor. Fortu- 
nately, the foresight of Gardiner had ev- 
erything ready for this indispensable pre- 
caution. Without anchoring, ten minutes 
would probably have carried the schooner 
directly down upon the breakers, leaving 
no hope for the life of any on board her, 
and breaking her up into chips. Both 
bowers were let go at once, and long 
ranges of cable given. The schooner was 
snubbed without parting anything, and 
was immediately brought head to sea. 


THE 


This relieved her at once, and there was a 
moment when her people fancied she might 
ride out the gale where she was, could they 
only get clear of the wreck. Axes, hatchets, 
and knives were freely used, and Roswell 
Gardiner saw the mass of spars and rig- 
ging float clear of him with a delight he 
did not desire to conceal. As it drove to 
leeward, he actually cheered. <A lead was 
instantly dropped alongside, in order to 
ascertain whether the anchors held. This 
infallible test gave the melancholy cer- 
tainty that the schooner was still drifting 
her length in rather less than two minutes. 

The only hope now was that the flukes 
of the anchors might catch in better hold- 
-ing-ground than they had yet met with. 
The bottom was hard sand, however, 
which never gives a craft the chance that 
it getsfrom mud. By Roswell Gardiner’s 
calculations, an hour, at the most, would 
carry them into the breakers; possibly 
less time. The Sea Lion of Holmes’s 
Hole was to windward a cable’s length 
when this accident happened to her con- 
sort, and about half a mile to the south- 
ward. Just at that instant the breakers 
trended seaward, ahead of that schooner, 
rendering it indispensable for her to ware. 
This was done, bringing her head to the 
southward, and she now came struggling 
directly on toward her consort. The 
operation of waring had caused her to lose 
ground enough to bring her to leeward of 
the anchored craft, and nearer to the 
danger. 

Roswell Gardiner stood on his own 
quarter - deck, anxiously watching the 
drift of the other schooner, as she drew 
near in her labored way, struggling ahead 
through billows that were almost as white 
ag the breakers that menaced them with 
destruction to leeward. The anchored 
vessel, though drifting, had so slow a 
movement that it served to mark the 
steady and rapid set of its consort toward 
its certain fate. At first, it seemed to 
Gardiner that Daggett would pass just 
ahead of him, and he trembled for his 
cables, which occasionally appeared above 
water, stretched like bars of iron, for the 
distance of thirty or forty fathoms. But 
the leeward set of the vessel under way 


SHA LIONS. 


(4) 


was too fast to give her any chance of 
bringing this new danger on her consort. 
When a cable’s length distant, the Sea 
Lion of the Vineyard did seem as if she 
might weather her consort ; but, ere that 
short space was passed over, it was found 
that she fell off so fast, by means of her 
drift, as to carry her fairly clear of her 
stern. The two masters, holding with 
one hand to some permanent object by 
which to steady themselves, and each 
pressing his tarpaulin firmly down on 
his head with the other, had a minute’s 
conversation when the schooners were 
nearest together. 

‘*Do your anchors hold?’’ demanded 
Daggett, who was the first to speak, and 
who put his question as if he thought his 
own fate depended on the answer. 

‘‘[’m sorry to say they do not. We 
drift our length in about two minutes.”’ 

‘*That will put off the evil moment an 
hour or two. Look what a wake we are 
making ! ”’ 

Sure enough, that wake was frightful ! 
No sooner was the head of the Sea Lion 
of the Vineyard fairly up with the stern 
of the Sea Lion of Oyster Pond, than 
Gardiner perceived that she went off diag- 
onally, moving quite as fast to leeward 
as she went ahead. This was so very 
obvious that a line drawn from the quar- 
ter of Roswell’s craft, in a quartering di- 
rection, would almost have kept the other 
schooner in its range from the moment 
that her bow hove heavily past. 

‘‘God bless you!—God bless you!” 
cried Roswell Gardiner, waving his hand 
in adieu, firmly persuaded that he and 
the Vineyard master were never to meet 
again in this world. ‘The survivors 
must let the fate of the lost be known. At 
the pinch, I shall out boats, if I can.” 

The other made no answer. It would 
have been useless, indeed, to attempt it; 
since no human voice had power to force 
itself up against such a gale, the distance 
that had now to be overcome. 

‘¢That schooner will be in the breakers 
in half an hour,’’ said Hazard, who stood 
by the side of young Gardiner. ‘“‘ Why 
don’t he anchor! No power short of 
Divine Providence can save her.’’ 


~ 
i2 


‘And Divine Providence will do it— 
thanks to Almighty God for his good- 
ness !’’ exclaimed Roswell Gardiner. 
“ Did you perceive that, Mr. Hazard ? ”’ 

The ‘ that ’”’ of our young mariner was, 
in truth, a most momentous omen. The 
wind had lulled so suddenly that the rags 
of sails which the other schooner carried 
actually flapped. At first our seamen 
thought she had been becalmed by the 
swell; but the change about themselves 
was too obvious to admit of any mistake. 
It blew terribly, again, for a minute; then 
there was another lull. Gardiner sprang 
to the lead-line to see the effect on his 
own vessel. She no longer dragged her 
anchor ! 

‘‘God is with us!’’ exclaimed the young 
master—‘‘ blessed forever be His holy 
name !’’ 

** And that of His only and true Son,’’ 
responded a voice from one at his elbow. 

Notwithstanding the emergency, and 
the excitement produced by this sudden 
change, Roswell Gardiner turned to see 
from whom this admonition had come. 
The oldest seaman on board, who was 
Stimson, a Kennebunk man, and who had 
been placed there to watch the schooner’s 
drift, had uttered these unusual words. 
The fervor with which he spoke produced 
more impression on the young master 
than the words themselves; the former 
being very unusual among seafaring men, 
though the language was not so much 
so. Subsequently, Gardiner remembered 
that little incident, which was not with- 
out its results. 

‘IT do believe, sir,’? cried Hazard, 
‘‘that the gale is broken. It often hap- 
pens on our own coast that the south- 
easters chop round suddenly, and come 
out nor’westers. I hope this will not 
be too late to save the Vineyard chap, 
though he slips down upon them breakers 
at a most fearful rate.” 

‘There goes his foresail again—and 
here is another lull! ’’ rejoined Gardiner. 
““T tell you, Mr. Hazard, we shall have a 
shift of wind—nothing short of which 
could save either of us from these break- 
ers.”’ 

‘* Which comes from the marcy of God 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


Almighty, through the intercession of his 
only Son!’ added Stimson, with the 
same fervor of manner, though he spoke 
in a very low tone of voice. 

Roswell Gardiner was again surprised, 
and for another moment he forgot the 
gale and its dangers. Gale it was no 
longer, however, for the lull was now 
decided, and the two cables of the schoon- 
er were distended only when the roll of 
the seas came in upon her. This wash of 
the waves still menaced the other schoon- 
er, driving her down toward the breakers, 
though less rapidly than before. 

‘“Why don’t the fellow anchor!” ex- 
claimed Gardiner, in his anxiety, all care 
for himself being now over. ‘* Unless he 
anchor, he will yet go into the white water 
and be lost !’’ 

“So little does he think of that, that he 
is turning out his reefs,’? answered Haz- 
ard. ‘‘See! there is a hand aloft loosen- 
ing his topsail—and there goes up a whole 
mainsail already ! ’’ 

Sure enough, Daggett appeared more 
disposed to trust to his canvas than to his 
ground-tackle. In avery brief space of 
time he had his craft under whole sail, 
and was struggling in the puffs to claw off 
the land. Presently the wind ceased al- 
together, the canvas flapping so as to be 
audible to Gardiner and his companions 
at the distance of half a mile. Then the 
cloth was distended in the opposite direc- 
tion, and the wind came off the land. 
The schooner’s head was _ instantly 
brought to meet the seas, and the lead 
dropped at her side showed that she was 
moving in the right direction. These 
sudden changes, sometimes destructive, 
and sometimes providential as acts of 
mercy, always bring strong counter-clir- 
rents of air in their train. 

‘‘Now we shall have it!” said Haz- 
ard; ‘‘a true nor’wester, and butt-end 
foremost !”’ 

This opinion very accurately described 
that which followed. In ten minutes it 
was blowing heavily, in a direction nearly 
opposite to that which had been the previ- 
ous current of the wind. As a matter of 
course, the Sea Lion of the Vineyard 
drew off the.land, wallowing through the 


THE SHA LIONS. 


| meeting billows that still came rolling in 


his consort. 


from the broad Atlantic; while the Sea 
Lion of Oyster Pond tended to the new 


currents of air, and rode, as it might be, 
suspended between the two opposing 
' forces, with little or no strain on her 
-cabies. 


Gardiner expected to see his con- 
sort stand out to sea, and gain an offing ; 


but, instead of this, Captain Daggett 
brought his schooner quite near to the dis- 


abled vessel, and anchored. This act of 
neighborly kindness was too unequivocal 
to require explanation. It was the inten- 
tion of the Vineyard men to lie by their 
consort until she was relieved from all 
apprehensions of danger. The ‘‘ butt- 
end’ of the ‘‘nor’wester ”’ was too large 
to admit of intercourse until next morn- 


ing, when that which had been a small 
gale had dwindled to a good, steady 
breeze, and the seas had gone down, leav- 


ing comparatively smooth water all along 
the coast. The line of white water which 
marked the breakers was there, and quite 
visible ; but it no longer excited appre- 
hension. The jury-masts on board the 
disabled craft were got up; and what was 
very convenient, just at that moment, the 


“wreck came floating out on the ebb, so 


near to her as to enable the boats to 
secure all the sails and most of the rig- 
ging. The main-boom, too, an excellent 
spar, was towed alongside and saved. 


CHAPTER xX. 


«“ The shadow from thy brow shall melt, 
The sorrow from thy strain: 
But where thy earthly smile hath dwelt, 
Our hearts shall thirst in vain.”’ 
—Mrs. HEMANS. 


As soon as it would do to put his boats 


% in the water, or at daylight next morn- 


ing, Captain Daggett came alongside of 
He was received with a sea- 


_ man’s welcome, and his offers of services 


were accepted, just as frankly as, under 


reversed circumstances, they would have 
_ been made. In all this there was a strange 
and characteristic admixture of neigh- 
- borly and Christian kindness, blended 
_ with a keen regard of the main chance. 
mt 


ia! y 

>) iS 

“ye 1 . 
sab) | 


73 


If the former duties are rarely neglected 
by the descendants of the Puritans, it 
may be said with equal truth, that the 
latter are never lost sight of. Specula- 
tion and profit are regarded as so many 
integral portions of the duty of man; and, 
as our kinsmen of Old England have set 
up an idol to worship, in the form of aris- 
tocracy, so do our kinsmen of New En- 
gland pay homage to the golden calf. In 
point of fact, Daggett had a double mo- 
tive in now offering his services to Gardi- 
ner: the one being the discharge of his 
moral obligations, and the other a desire 
to remain near the Sea Lion of Oyster 
Pond, lest she should visit the key, of 
which he had some very interesting mem- 
orandums, without having enough to find 
the place unless led there by those who 
were better informed on the subject of its 
precise locality than he was himself. 

The boats of Daggett assisted in getting 
the wreck alongside, and in securing the 
sails and rigging. Then his people aided 
in fitting jury masts; and by noon both 
vessels got under way and stood along 
the coast to the southward and westward. 
Hatteras was no longer terrible, for the 
wind still stood at northwest, and they 
kept in view of those very breakers which, 
only the day before, they would have given 
the value of both vessels to be certain of 
never seeing again. That night they 
passed the formidable cape, a spit of sand 
projecting far to seaward, and which is 
on a low beach, and not on any mainland 
at all. Once around this angle in the 
coast, they had a lee, hauling up to the 
southwest. With the wind abeam, they 
stood on the rest of the day, picking up a 
pilot. The next night they doubled Cape 
Look Out, a very good landmark for those 
going north to keep in view, as a reminder 
of the stormy and sunken Hatteras, and 
arrived off Beaufort harbor just as the sun 
was rising the succeeding morning. By 
this time the northwester was done, and 
both schooners entered Beaufort, with a 
light southerly breeze, there being just 
water enough to receive them. This was 
the only place on all that coast into which 
it would have answered their purposes to 
go; and it was, perhaps, the very port of 


74 


all others that was best suited to supply 
the present wants of Roswell Gardiner. 

Pine timber, and spars of all sorts, 
abounded in that region ; and the ‘‘ Bank- 
er,’’ who acted as pilot, told our young 
master that he could get the very sticks 
he needed in one hour’s time after enter- 
ing the haven. This term of ‘‘ Banker ”’ 
applies to a scattering population of 
wreckers and fishermen, who dwell on the 
long, low, narrow beaches which extend 
along the whole of this part of the coast, 
reaching from Cape Fear to near Cape 
Henry, a distance of some hundred and 
fifty. miles. Within lie the capacious 
sounds already mentioned, including Albe- 
marle and Pamlico, and which form the 
watery portals to the sea-shores of all 
North Carolina. Well is the last head- 
land of that region, but one which the 
schooners did not double, named Cape 
Fear, It is the commencement, on that 
side, of the dangerous part of the coast, 
and puts the mariner on his guard by its 
very appellation, admonishing him to be 
cautious and prudent. 

Off the entrance of Beaufort, a very 
perfect and beautiful haven, if it had a 
greater depth of water, the schooners 
hove to, in waiting for the tide to rise a 
little; and Roswell Gardiner took that 
occasion to go on board the sister craft, 
and express to Daggett a sense of the 
obligations he felt for the services the 
other had rendered. 

‘‘Of course you will not think of going 
in, Captain Daggett,’’ continued our hero, 
in dwelling on the subject, ‘‘after having 
put yourself, already, to so much unneces- 
sary trouble. If I find the spars the 
‘Banker’ talks of, I shall be out again in 
eight-and-forty hours, and we may meet, 
some months hence, off Cape Horn.”’ 

‘‘T’ll tell vou what it is, Gar’ner,”’’ re- 
turned the Vineyard mariner, pushing the 
rum toward his brother master. ‘‘l’ma 
plain sort of a fellow, and don’t make 
much talk when I do a thing, but I like 
good fellowship. We came near going, 
both of us—nearer than I ever was before, 
and escape wrackin’ ; but escape we did— 
and when men have gone through such 
trials in company, I don’t like the notion 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


of casting off till I see you all a-tanto 
ag’in, and with as many legs and arms as 
I carry myself. That’s just my feelin’, 
Gar’ner, and I won’t say whether it’s a 
right feelin’ or not—help yourself.’’ 

“It’s a right feeling, as between you 
and me, Captain Daggett, as Ican answer 
for. My heart tells me you are right, and 
I thank you from it, for these marks of 
friendship. But you must not forget there 
are such persons as owners in this world. 
I shall have trouble enough on my hands 
with my owner, and I do not wish you to 
have trouble with yours. Here is a nice 
little breeze to take you out to sea again ; 
and by passing to the southward of Ber- 
muda, you can make a short cut, and hit 
the trades far enough to windward to 
answer all your purposes.’’ 

‘“‘Thankee, thankee, Gar’ner—I knew 
the road, and can find the places I’m 
going to, though no great navigator. 
Now, I never took a lunar in my life, 
and can’t do anything with a chronom- 
eter; but as for finding the way be- 
tween Martha’s Vineyard and Cape Horn, 
I’ll turn my back on no shipmaster living.”’ 

‘‘I’m afraid, Captain Daggett, that we 
have both of us turned our backs on our 
true course, when we suffered ourselves to 
get jammed away down here, on Hat- 
teras. Why, I never saw the place be- 
fore, and never wish to see it again! It’s 
as much out of the track of a whaler or 
sealer, as Jupiter is out of the track of 
Mars or Venus.’’ 

‘* Oh, there go your lunars, about which 
I know nothing and care nothing. I tell 
you, Gar’ner, a man with a good judg- 
ment can just as well jog about the ’arth, 
without any acquaintance with lunars, as 
he can with. Then, your sealer hasn’t 
half as much need of your academy sort 
of navigation as another man. More than 
half of our calling is luck; and all the 
best sealing stations I ever heard of, have 
been blundered on by some chap who has 
losthis way. I despise lunars, if the truth 
must be said ; yet I like to go straight to 
my port of destination. Take a little 
sugar with your rum-and-water—we Vine- 
yard folks like sweetening.’’ 

‘For which purpose, or that of going 


THH SHA LIONS. 


straight to your port, Captain Daggett, 
you’ve come down here, on your way to 
. the Pacific; or, about five hundred miles 
out of your way !”’ 

“IT came here for company, Gar’ner. 
We hadn’t much choice, you must allow, 
for we couldn’t have weathered the shoals 
on the other tack. I see no great harm 
in our positions, if you hadn’t got dis- 
masted. That’s a two or three hundred 
dollar job, and may make your owner 
grumble a little, but it’s no killing mat- 
ter. J’ll stick by you, and you can tell 
the deacon as much in the letter you'll 
write him, when we get in.”’ 

*“Tt seems like doing injustice to your 
owners, as well as to my own, keeping you 
here, Captain Daggett,’’ returned Ros- 
well, innocently, for he had not the small- 
est suspicion of the true motive of all this 
apparent good-fellowship, ‘‘and I really 
wish you would now quit me.”’ 

“TJ gcouldn’t think of it, Gar’ner. 
*Twould make an awful talk on the Vine- 
yard, was I to do anything of the sort. 
‘Stick to your consort,’ is an eleventh 
commandment :n our island.”’ 

<¢ Which is the reason why there are so 
many old maids there, I suppose, Dag- 
gett,’’ cried Roswell Gardiner laughing. 
«“Well, I thank you for your kindness, 
and will endeavor to remember it when 
you may have occasion for some return. 
But, the tide must be making, and we 
ought to lose no time unnecessarily. 
Here’s a lucky voyage to us both, Cap- 
tain Daggett, and a happy return to 
sweethearts and wives.”’ 

Daggett tossed off his glass to this 
toast, and the two then went on deck. 
Roswell Gardiner thought that a kinder 
ship’s company never sailed together than 
this of the Sea Lion of Holmes’s Hole ; 
for, notwithstanding the interest of every 
man on board depended on the returns of 
their own voyage, each and all appeared 
willing to stick by him and his craft so 
long as there was a possibility of being of 
any service. 

Whalers and sealers do not ship their 
crews for wages in money, as is done with 
most vessels. So much depends on the 
exertions of the people in these voyages, 


78 


that it is the practice to give every man a 
direct interest in the result. Consequently, 
all on board engage for a compensation to 
be derived from a division of the return 
cargo. The terms on which a party en- 
gages are called his “‘lay;’’ and he gets 
so many parts of a hundred, according to 
station, experience, and qualifications. 
The owner is paid for his risk and ex- 
penses in the same way, the vessel and out- 
fits usually taking about two-thirds of the 
whole returns, while the officers and crew 
get the other. These conditions vary a 
little, as the proceeds of whaling and seal- 
ing rise or fall in the market, and also in 
reference to the cost of equipments. It 
follows that Captain Daggett and his crew 
were actually putting their hands into 
their own pockets when they lost time in 
remaining with the crippled craft. This 
Gardiner knew, and it caused him to ap- 
preciate their kindness at a rate so much 
higher than he might otherwise have done. 

At first sight it might seem that all 
this unusual kindness was_ superfluous 
and of no avail. This, however, was not 
really the case, since the crew of the 
second schooner was of much real ser- 
vice in forwarding the equipment of the 
disabled vessel. Beaufort has an excel- 
lent harbor for vessels of a ight draught 
of water like our two sealers; but the 
town is insignificant, and extra laborers, 
especially those of an intelligence suited 
to such work, very difficult to be had. 
At the bottom, therefore, Roswell Gar- 
diner found his friendly assistance of 
much real advantage, the two crews 
pushing the work before them with as 
much rapidity as suited even a seaman’s 
impatience. Aided by the crew of his 
consort, Gardiner got on fast with his re- 
pairs, and on the afternoon of the second 
day after he had entered Beaufort, he 
was ready to sail once more ; his schooner 
probably in a better state of service than 
the day she left Oyster Pond. 

The lightning-line did not exist at the 
period of which we are writing. It is our 
good fortune to be an intimate acquaint- 
ance of the distinguished citizen who be- 
stowed this great gift on his country— 
one that will transmit his name to poster- 


76 


ity, side by side with that of Fulton. In 
his case, aS in that of the last-named 
inventor, attempts have been made to 
rob him equally of the honors and the 
profits of his very ingenious invention. 
As respects the last, we hold that it is 
every hour becoming less and less pos- 
sible for any American to maintain his 
rights against numbers. There is no 
question that the government of this 
great republic was intended to be one of 
well-considered aud upright principles, in 
which certain questions are to be referred 
periodically to majorities, as the wisest 
and most natural, as well as the most 
just mode of disposing of them. Sucha 
government, well administered, and with 
an accurate observance of its governing 
principles, would probably be the best 
that human infirmity will allow men to 
administer; but when the capital mistake 
is made of supposing that mere numbers 
are to control all things, regardless of 
those great. fundamental laws that the 
state has adopted for its own restraint, it 
may be questioned if so loose, and capri- 
cious, and selfish a system is not in 
great danger of becoming the very 
worst scheme of polity that cupidity ever 
set in motion. 

The tendency—not the spzrit of the in- 
stitutions, the two things being the very 
antipodes of each other, though common 
minds are so apt to confound them— 
the tendency of the institutions of this 
country, in flagrant opposition to their 
spirit or intentions, which were devised 
expressly to restrain the disposition of 
men to innovate, is out of all question to 
foster this great abuse, and to place num- 
bers above principles, even when the prin- 
ciples were solemnly adopted expressly to 
bring numbers under the control of a 
sound fundamental law. This influence of 
numbers, this dire mistake of the very 
nature of liberty, by placing men and 
their passions above those great laws of 
right which come direct from God himself, 
is increasing in force, and threatens con- 
sequences which may set at naught all 
the well-devised schemes of the last gener- 
ation for the security of the state and the 
happiness of that very people, who can 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


never know either security or even peace, 
until they learn to submit themselves, 
without a thought of resistance, to those 
great rules of right which in truth form 
the spzrvt of their institutions, and which 
are only too often in opposition to their 
own impulses and motives. 

We pretend to no knowledge on the 
subject of the dates of discoveries in the 
arts and sciences, but well do we remem- 
ber the earnestness and single-minded de- 
votion to a laudable purpose, with which 
our worthy friend first communicated to 
us his ideas on the subject of using the 
electric spark by way of a telegraph. It 
was in Paris, and during the winter of 
1831-2, and the succeeding spring, a time 
when we were daily together; and we 
have a satisfaction in recording this date, 
that others may prove better claims if 
they can. Had Morse set his great in- 
vention on foot thirty years earlier, Ros- 
well Gardiner might have communicated 
with his owner, and got a reply, ere he 
again sailed, considerable as was the dis- 
tance between them. As things then 
were, he was fain to be content with writ- 
ing a letter, which was put into the dea- 
con’s hand about a week after it was 
written, by his niece, on his own return 
from a short journey to Southold, whither 
he had been to settle and discharge a 
tardy claim against his schooner. 

‘‘Here is a letter for you, uncle,” said 
Mary Pratt, struggling to command her 
feelings, though she blushed with the con- 
sciousness of her own interest in the 
missive. ‘It came from the Harbor, by 
some mistake; Baiting Joe bringing it 
across just after you left home.” 

‘* A letter with a post-mark—‘ Beaufort, 
N.C.’ Who in natur’ can this letter be 
from? What a postage, too, to charge 
ona letter! Fifty cents!’ 

‘That is a proof, sir, that Beaufort 
must be a long way off. Besides, the 
letter is double. I think the handwrit- 
ing is Roswell’s.’’ 

Had the niece fired a six-pounder under 
her uncle’s ears, he would scarcely have 
been more startled. He even turned pale, 
and instead of breaking the wafer as he 
had been about to do, he actually shrunk 


THE 


from performing the act, like one afraid 
to proceed. 
‘«“ What can this mean ?”’ said the dea- 


con, taking a moment to recover his voice. 
©Gar’ner’s handwriting ! 
_ declare. 
has lost my schooner, I’ll never forgive 


So it ‘is,’ I 
If that imprudent young man 


him in this world, whatever a body may 
be forced to do in the next !”’ 

‘“Tt is not necessary to believe anything 
as bad as that, uncle. Letters are often 
written at sea, and sent in by vessels that 
are met. I dare say Roswell has done 
just this.” 

** Not he—not he—the careless fellow ! 
He has lost that schooner, and all my 
property is in the hands of wrackers, who 
are worse than so many rats in the larder. 
‘Beaufort, N.C.’ Yes, that must be one 
of the Bahamas, and N. C. stands for 
New Providence. Ah’s me! Ah’s me!” 

“But N. C. does not stand for New 
Providence—it would be N. P. in that 
case, uncle.”’ 

“N.C. or N. P., they sound so dread- 
fully alike that I don’t know what to think! 
Take the letter and open it. Oh! how big 
it is !—there must be a protest, or some 
other costly thing, inclosed.”’ 

Mary did take the letter, and she opened 
it, though with trembling hands. The 
inclosure soon appeared, and the first 
glance of her eye told her it was a letter 
addressed to herself. 

«What is it, Mary? What is it, my 
child? Do not be afraid to tell me,’”’ said 
the deacon, in a low, faltering voice. ‘‘I 
hope I know how to meet misfortunes with 
Christian fortitude. Has it one of them 
awful-looking seals that Notary Publics 
use when they want money ?”’ 

Mary blushed rosy red, and she ap- 
peared very charming at that moment, 
though as resolute as ever to give her 
hand only to a youth whose ‘‘ God should 
be her God.”’ 

“It is a letter to me, sir—nothing else, 
I do assure you, uncle. Roswell often 
writes to me, as you know; he has sent 
one of his letters inclosed in this to 
you.”’ 

“Yes, yes—l’m glad it’s no worse. 
Well, where was his letter written ? Does 


SHA LIONS. 


as 


he mention the latitude and longitude ? 
It will be some comfort to learn that he 
was well to the southward and eastward.’’ 

Mary’s color disappeared, and a pale- 
ness came over her face, as she ran through 
the first few lines of the letter. Then she 
summoned all her resolution, and suc- 
ceeded in telling her uncle the facts. 

‘¢ A misfortune has befallen poor Ros- 
well,’’? she said, her voice trembling with 
emotion, *‘ though it does not seem to be 
half as bad as it might have been. The 
letter is written at Beaufort, in North 
Carolina, where the schooner has put in to 
get new masts, having lost those with 
which she sailed in a gale of wind off Cape 
Hatteras.’’ 

‘*Hatteras !’*? interrupted the deacon, 
groaning—‘‘ what in natur’ had my ves- 
sel to do down there ? ”’ 

‘Tam sure Il don’t know, sir—but [had 
better read you the contents of Roswell’s 
letter, and then you will hear the whole 
story.”’ 

Mary now proceeded to read aloud. 
Gardiner gave a frank, explicit account of 
all that had happened since he parted with 
his owner, concealing nothing, and not at- 
tempting even to extenuate his fault, Of 
the Sea Lion of Holmes’s Hole he wrote 
at large, giving it as his opinion that Cap- 
tain Daggett really possessed some clew— 
what, he did not know—to the existence 
of the sealing islands, though he rather 
thought that he was not very accurately 
informed of their precise position. As re- 
spected the key Roswell was silent, for it 
did not at all occur to him that Daggett 
knew anything of that part of his own 
mission. In consequence of this opinion, 
not the least suspicion of the motive of 
the Vineyard-man, in sticking by him, 
presented itself to Gardiner’s mind ; and 
nothing on the subject was communicated 
in the letter. On the contrary, our young 
master was quite eloquent in expressing 
his gratitude to Daggett and his crew, for 
the assistance they had volunteered, and 
without which he could not have been 
ready to go to sea again in less than a 
week. As it was, the letter was partly 
written as the schooner repassed the bar, 
and was sent ashore by the pilot to be 


78 WORKS 
mailed. This fact was stated in fuil, in 
a postscript. 

“Volunteered!’’? groaned the deacon 
aloud. ‘ Asif a man ever volunteers to 
work without his pay !”’ 

‘* Roswell tells us that Captain Daggett 
did, uncle,’’ answered Mary, ‘‘ and that it 
is understood between them he is to make 
no charge for his going into Beaufort, or 
for anything he did while there. Vessels 
often help each other in this kind way, I 
should hope, for the sake of Christian 
charity, sir.”’ 

“Not without salvage, not without 
salvage! Charity is a good thing, and 
it is our duty to exercise it on all occa- 
sions ; but salvage comes into charity all 
the same as into any other interest. This 
schooner will ruin me, I fear, and leave 
me in my old age to be supported by the 
town !”’ 

‘«‘That can hardly happen, uncle, since 
you owe nothing for her, and have your 
farms, and all your other property, unen- 
cumbered. It is not easy to see how the 
schooner can ruin you.”’ 

«“Yes, I am undone,’’ returned the 
deacon, beating the floor with his foot in 
nervous agitation; ‘‘as much undone as 
ever Roswell Gar’ner’s father was; and he 
might have been the richest man between 
Oyster Pond and Riverhead, had he kept 
out of the way of speculation. I remem- 
ber him much better off than I am my- 
self, and he died but little more than a 
beggar. Yes, yes; I see how it is; this 
schooner has undone me! ”’ 

*‘But Roswell sends an account of all 
that he has paid, and draws a bill on you 
fof its payment. The entire amount is 
but one hundred and sixteen dollars and 
seventy-two cents.”’ 

“That’s not for salvage. The next 
thing will be a demand for salvage in 
behalf of the owners and crew of the Sea 
Ivon of Humses’ Hull! I know how it 
will be, child! I know how it will be! 
Gar’ner has undone me, and I shall go 
down into my grave a beggar, as his 
father has done already.”’ 

** If such be the fact, uncie, no one but 
I would be the sufferer, and I will strive 
not to grieve over your losses. But here 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


is a paper that Roswell has inclosed in his 
letter to me, by mistake no doubt. See, 
sir; 1f is an acknowledgment, signed by 
Captain Daggett and all his crew, admit- 
ting that they went into Beaufort with 
Roswell out of good feeling, and allowing: 
that they have no claims to salvage. 
Here it is, sir; you can read it for 
yourself.’’ 

The deacon did not only read it—he 
almost devoured the paper, Which, as 
Mary suggested, had been inclosed in 
her letter by mistake. The relief pro- 
duced by this document so far composed 
the uncle, that he not only read Gardiner’s 
letter himself, with a very close attention 
to its contents, but he actually forgave 
the cost of the repairs incurred at Beau- 
fort. While he was in the height of his 
joy at this change in the aspect of things, 
the niece stole into her own room in order 
to read the missive she had received by 
herself, 

The tears that Mary Pratt profusely 
shed over Roswell’s letter were both 
sweet and bitter, The manifestations of 
his affection for her, which were manly 
and frank, brought tears of tenderness 
from her eyes; while the recollection of 
the width of the chasm that separated 
them had the effect to embitter these 
proofs of love. Most females would have . 
lost the sense of duty which sustained our 
heroine in this severe trial, and, in accept- 
ing the man of their heart, would have 
trusted to time, and their own influence, 
and the mercy of Divine Providence, to 
bring about the changes they desired ; but 
Mary Pratt could not thus blind herself to 
her own high obligations. The tie of hus- 
band and wife she rightly regarded as the 
most serious of all the obligations we can 
assume, and she could not—would not 
plight her vows to any man whose ‘*‘ God 
was not her God.’’ 

Still there was much of sweet consola- 
tion in this little-expected letter from Ros- 
well. He wrote, as he always did, simply 
and naturally, and attempted no conceal- 
ments. This was just as true of his acts 
as the master of the schooner, as it was in 
his character of a suitor. To Mary he 
told the whole story of his weakness, ac- 


THE 


\ knowledging that a silly spirit of pride, 


which would not permit him to seem to 


_ abandon a trial of the qualities of the two 
schooners, had induced him to stand on to 
_ the westward longer than he should other- 


wise have done, and the currents had 
come to assist in increasing the danger. 
As for Daggett, he supposed him to have 
been similarly influenced ; though he did 
not withhold his expressions of gratitude 
for the generous manner in which that 
seaman had stuck to him to the last. 

For weary months did Mary Pratt de- 
rive sweet consolation from her treasure 
of a letter. It was, perhaps, no more 
than human nature, or woman’s nature 
at least, that, in time, she got most to re- 
gard those passages which best answered 
to the longings of her own heart; and 
that she came at last to read the missive, 
forgetful, in a degree, that it was written 
by one who had deliberately, and as a 
matter of faith, adopted the idea that the 
Redeemer was not, in what may be called 
the catholic sense of the term, the Son of 
God. The papers gave an account of the 
arrival of the *‘ Twin Sea Lions,’’ as the 
article styled them, in the port of Beau- 
fort, to repair damages; and of their 
having soon sailed again in company. 
This paragraph she cut out of the journal 
in which it met her eye, and inclosing it 
in Roswell’s last letter, there was not a 
day in the succeeding year in which both 
were not in her hand, and read for the 
hundredth time or more. These proofs of 
tenderness, however, are not to be taken 
as evidence of any lessening of principle, 
or as signs of a disposition to let her judg- 
ment and duty submit to her affection. 
So far from this, her resolution grew with 
reflection, and her mind became more 
settled in a purpose that she deemed 
sacred, the longer she reflected on the 
subject. But her prayers in behalf of her 
absent lover grew more frequent and 
much more fervent. 

In the meantime the Twin Lions sailed. 
On leaving Beaufort they ran off the 
coast with a smart breeze from south- 
west, making a leading wind of it. There 
had been some variance of opinion between 
Daggett and Gardiner, touching the 


SHA LIONS. 79 


course they ought to steer. The last was 
for hauling up higher and passing to the 
southward of Bermuda, while the first 
contended for standing nearly due east 
and going to the northward of those 
islands. Gardiner felt impatient to re- 
pair his blunder, and make the shortest 
cut he could; whereas Daggett reasoned 
more coolly and took the winds into the 
account, keeping in view the main results 
of the voyage. Perhaps the last wished 
to keep his consort away from all the 
keys until he was compelled to alter his 
course in a way that would leave no doubt 
of his intentions. Of one thing the last 
was now certain ; he knew by a long trial 
that the Sea Lion of Oyster Pond could 
not very easily run away from the Sea 
Lion of Holmes’s Hole, and he was fully — 
resolved that she should not escape from 
him in the night, or in the squalls. As 
for Roswell Gardiner, not having the 
smallest idea of looking for his key, until 
he came north, after visiting the antarc- 
tic circle, he had no notion whatever of 
the reason why the other stuck to him so 
closely ; and, least of all, why he wished 
to keep him clear of the West Indies, un- 
til ready to make a descent on his El 
Dorado. 

Beaufort lies about two degrees to the 
northward of the four hundred rocks, 
islets, and small islands, which are known 
as the Bermudas; an advanced naval 
station, that belongs to a rival commer- 
cial power, and which is occupied by that 
power solely as a check on this republic in 
the event of war. Had the views of real 
statesmen. prevailed in America, instead 
of those of mere politicians, the whole 
energy of this republic would have been 
long since directed to the object of substi- 
tuting our own flag for that of England 
in these islands. As things are, there 
they exist; a station for hostile fleets, a 
receptacle for prizes, and a depot for the 
munitions of war, as if expressly designed 
by nature to hold the whole American 
coast in command. While little men with 
great names are wrangling about south- 
western acquisitions and northeastern 
poundaries, that are of no real moment 
to the growth and power of the republic, 


80 


these islands, that ought never to be out 
of the mind of the American statesman, 
have not yet entered into the account at 
all; a certain proof how little the minds 
that do, or ought to, influence events, are 
really up to the work they have been dele- 
gated to perform. Military expeditions 
have twice been sent from this country to 
Canada, when both the Canadas are not 
of one-half the importance to the true se- 


curity and independence of the country— 


(no nation is independent until it holds the 
control of all its greater interests in its 
own hands)—as the Bermudas. 

When England asked the cession of ter- 
ritory undoubtedly American, because it 
overshadowed Quebec, she should have 
been met with this plain proposition— 
“ «*Give us the Bermudas, and we will ex- 
change with you. You hold those islands 
as a check on our power, and we will hold 
the angle of Maine for a check on yours, 
unless you will consent to make a fair and 
mutual transfer. We will not attack you 
for the possession of the Bermudas, for we 
deem a just principle even more important 
than such an accession; but when you 
ask us to cede, we hold out our hands to 
take an equivalent in return. The policy 
of this nation is not to be influenced by 
saw-logs, but by these manifest, impor- 
tant, and ulterior interests. If you wish 
Maine, give us Bermuda in exchange, or 
go with your wishes ungratified.’’ Hap- 
pily, among us, events are stronger than 
men, and the day is not distant when the 
mere force of circumstances will compel 
the small-fry of diplomacy to see what the 
real interests and dignity of the republic 
demand in reference to this great feature 
of its policy. 

Roswell Gardiner and Daggett had sev- 
eral discussions touching the manner in 
which they ought to pass those islands. 
There were about four degrees to spare 
between the trades and the Bermudas ; 
and the former was of opinion that they 
might pass through this opening, and 
make a straighter wake than by going 
farther north. These consultations took 
place from quarter-deck to quarter-deck, 
as the two schooners ran off free, steer- 
ing directly for the islands, as a sort of 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


compromise between the two opinions. 
The distance from the main to the Ber- 
mudas is computed at about six hundred 
miles, which gave sufficient leisure for the 
discussion of the subject in all its bear- 
ings. The conversation was amicable, 
and the weather continuing mild, and the 
wind standing, they were renewed each 
afternoon, when the vessels closed, as if 
expressly to admit of the dialogue. In all 
this time, five days altogether, it was 
farther ascertained that the difference in 
sailing between the Twin Lions, as the 
sailors now began to call the two schoon- 
ers, was barely perceptible. If anything, 
it was slightly in favor of the Vineyard 
craft, though there yet remained many of 
the vicissitudes of the seas, in which to 
make the trial. While this uncertainty 
as to the course prevailed, the low land 
appeared directly ahead, when Daggett 
consented to pass it to the southward, 
keeping the cluster in sight, however, as 
they went steadily on toward the south- 
ward and eastward. 


CHAPTER XI. 


‘With glossy skin, and dripping mane, 
And reeling limbs, and reeking flank, 
The wild steed’s sinewy nerves still strain 
Up the repelling bank.”—MAZEPPA. 


ROSWELL GARDINER felt as if he could 
breathe more freely when they had run the 
Summers Group fairly out of sight, and 
thelast hummock had sunk into the waves 
of the west. He was now fairly quit of 
America, and hoped to see no more of it 
until he made the well-known rock that 
points the way into the most magnificent 
of all the havens of the earth, the bay of 
Rio de Janeiro. Travelers dispute whether 
the palm ought to be given to this port, : 
or to those of Naples and Constantinople. 
Each, certainly, has its particular claims 
to surpassing beauty, which ought to be 
kept in view in coming to a decision. Seen 
from its outside, with its minarets, and 
Golden Horn, and Bosphorus, Constanti- 
nople is probably the most glorious spot 
on earth. Ascend its mountains and over- 


!look the gulfs of Salerno and Gaeta, as 


THE 


well as its own waters, the Campagna 
Felici, and the memorials of the past, all 


-\ seen in the witchery of an Italian atmos- 
_ phere, and the mind becomes perfectly 
y satisfied that nothing equal is to be found 


elsewhere ; but enter the bay of Rio, and 
take the whole of the noble panorama in 
at a glance, and even the experienced 
traveler is staggered with the stupendous, 


as well as bewitching, character of the 


be . - 


loveliness that meets his eye. Witchery 
is a charm that peculiarly belongs to 
Italy, as all must feel who have ever been 
brought within its influence; but it is a 
witchery that is more or less shared by all 
regions of low latitudes. 

Our two Sea Lions met with no adven- 
tures worthy of record until they got well 
to the southward of the equator. They 
had been unusually successful in getting 
through the calm latitudes ; and forty-six 
days from Montauk, they spoke a Sag 
Harbor whaler, homeward bound, that 
had come out from Rio only the pre- 


ceding week, where she had been to dis- 


pose ofher oil. By this ship, letters were 
sent home; and as Gardiner could now 
tell the deacon that he should touch at 
Rio even before the time first anticipated, 
he believed that he should set the old 
man’s heart at peace. <A little occurrence 


that took place the very day they parted 


with the whaler, added to the pleasure 
this opportunity of communicating with 
the owner had afforded. As the schooners 
were moving on in company, about a 
cable’s length asunder, Hazard saw a 
sudden and extraordinary movement on 
board the Vineyard Zion, as the men now 
named that vessel, to distinguish her from 
her consort. 

‘‘Look out for a spout!’’ shouted the 
mate to Stimson, who happened to be on 
the fore-topsail-yard at work, when this 
unexpected interruption to the quiet of 
the passage occurred. ‘‘ There is a man 
overboard from the other schooner, or 
they see a spout.”’ 

«A spout! a spout!’’ shouted Stim- 
son, in return; ‘‘and a spalm (sperm, or 
spermaceti, was meant) whale in the bar- 
gain! Here he is, sir, two p’ints on our 
weather beam.”’ 


SHA LIONS. 


81 


This was enough. If any one has had 
the misfortune to be in a coach drawn by 
four horses, when a sudden fright starts 
them off at speed, he can form a pretty 
accurate notion of the movement that now 
took place on board of Deacon Pratt’s 
craft. Every one seemed to spring into 
activity, as if a single will directed a com- 
mon set of muscles. Those who were 
below, literally ‘‘tumbled up,’’ as the 
seamen express it, and those who were 
aloft, slid down to the deck like flashes of 
lightning. Captain Gardiner sprang out 
of his cabin, seemingly at a single bound ; 
at another, he was in the whale-boat that 
Hazard was in the very act of lowering 
into the water, as the schooner rounded- 
to. Perceiving himself anticipated here, 
the mate turned to the boat on the other 
quarter, and was in her, and in the water, 
almost as soon as his commanding officer. 

Although neither of the schooners was 
thoroughly fitted for a whaler, each haa 
lines, lances, harpoons, etc., in readiness 
in their quarter-boats, prepared for any 
turn of luck like this which now offered. 
The process of paddling up to whales, 
which is now so common in the American 
ships, was then very little or not at all re- 
sorted to. It is said that the animals have 
got to be so shy, in consequence of being 
so much pursued, that the old mode of ap- 
proaching them will not suffice, and that 
it now requires much more care and far 
more art to take one of these creatures, 
than it did thirty years since. On this 
part of the subject we merely repeat what 
we hear, though we think we can see an 
advantage in the use of the paddle that 
is altogether independent of that of the 
greater quiet of that mode of forcing a 
boat ahead. He that paddles looks ahead, 
and the approach is more easily regulated, 
when the whole of the boat’s crew are ap- 
prised, by means of their own senses, of 
the actual state of things, than when they 
attain their ideas of them through the 
orders of an officer. The last must govern 
in all cases, but the men are prepared for 
them, when they can see what is going on, 
and will be more likely to act with prompt- 
itude and intelligence, and will be less 
liable to make mistakes. 


82 WORKS 


The four boats, two from each schooner, 
dropped into the water nearly about the 
same time. Daggett was at the steering- 
oar of one, as was Roswell at that of 
another. Hazard, and Macy, the chief 
mate of the Vineyard craft, were at the 
steering-oars of the two remaining boats. 
All pulled in the direction of the spot on 
the ocean where the spouts had been seen. 
It was the opinion of those who had been 
aloft, that there were several fish; and it 
was certain that they were of the most 
valuable species, or the spermaceti, one 
barrel of the oil of which was worth about 
as much as the oil of three of the ordinary 
sort, or that of the right whale, supposing 
them all to yield the same quantity in 
number of barrels. The nature or species 
of the fish was easily enough determined 
by the spouts; the right whale throwing 
up two high arched jets of water, while 
the spermaceti throws but a single, low, 
bushy one. 

It was not long ere the boats of the two 
captains came abreast of each other, and 
within speaking distance. A stern rivalry 
was now apparent in every countenance, 
the men pulling might and main, and 
without even a smile among them all. 
Every face was grave, earnest, and de- 
termined ; every arm strung to its utmost 
powers of exertion. The men rowed beauti- 
fully, being accustomed to the use of their 
long oars in rough water, and in ten min- 
utes they were all fully a mile dead to 
windward of the two schooners. 

Few things give a more exalted idea of 
the courage and ingenuity of the human 
race than to see adventurers set forth, in 
a mere shell, on the troubled waters of 
the open ocean, to contend with and capt- 
ure an animal of the size of the whale. 
The simple circumstance that the last is 
in its own element, while its assailants 
are compelled to approach it in such light 
and fragile conveyances, that, to the un- 
practiced eye, it is sufficiently difficult to 
manage them amid the rolling waters, 
without seeking so powerful an enemy to 
contend with, indicates the perilous nature 
of the contest. But, little of all this did 
the crews of our four boats now think. 
They had before them the objects, or one 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


of the objects, rather, of their adventure, 
and so long as that was the case, no other 
view but that of prevailing could rise 
before their eyes. 

‘* How is it, Gar’ner?’”’ called out the 
Vineyard master, ‘‘ shall it be shares? or 
does each schooner whale on her own 
hook ? ”’ 

This was asked in a friendly way, and 


apparently with great indifference as to. 


the nature of the reply, but with profound 
art. It was Daggett’s wish to establish 
a sort of partnership, which, taken in con- 
nection with the good feeling created by 
the affair at Beaufort, would be very apt 
to lead on to further and more important 
association. Luckily for Gardiner, an 
idea crossed his mind, just as he was 
about to reply, which induced the wisest 
answer. It was the thought, that compe- 
tition would be more likely to cause exer- 
tion than a partnership, and that the suc- 
cess of all would better repay them for the 
toils and risks, should each vessel act ex- 
clusively for itself. This is the principle 
that renders the present state of society 
more healthful and advantageous than 
that which the friends of the different 
systems of associating, that are now so 
much in vogue, wish to substitute in its 
place. Individuality is an all-important 
feeling in the organization of human 
beings into communities ; and the political 
economist who does not use it as his most 
powerful auxiliary in advancing civiliza- 
tion, will soon see it turn round in its 
tracks, and become a dead weight; in- 
dulging its self-love, by living with the 
minimum of exertion, instead of pushing 
his private advantage, with the maximum. 

‘‘T think each vessel had better work 
for herself and her owners,’’ answered 
Roswell Gardiner. 

As the schooners were in the trades, 
there was a regular sea running, and one 
that was neither very high nor much 
broken. Still, the boats were lifted on it 
like egg-shells or bubbles, the immense 
power of the ocean raising the largest 
ships, groaning under their vast weight 
of ordnance, as if they were feathers. In 
a few minutes, Gardiner and Daggett be- 
came a little more separated, each looking 


THE SEA LIONS. 


eagerly for the spouts, which had not been 
seen by either since quitting his vessel. 
All this time the two mates came steadily 
on, until the whole of the little fleet of 
boats was now not less than a marine 
league distant from the schooners. The 
vessels themselves were working up to 
windward, to keep as near to the boats 
as possible, making short tacks under 
reduced canvas; a ship-keeper, the cook, 
steward, and one or two other hands, 
being all who were left on board them. 

We shall suppose that most of our 
readers are sufficiently acquainted with 
the general character of that class of 
animals to which the whale belongs, to 
know that all of the genus breathe the 
atmospheric air, which is as necessary for 
life to them as it is to man himself. The 
only difference in this respect is that the 
whale can go longer without renewing his 
respiration than all purely land-animals, 
though he must come up to breathe at 
intervals, or die. It is the exhaling of the 
old stock of air, when he brings the 
‘‘blow-holes,’’ as seamen call the outlets 
of his respiratory organs, to the surface, 
that forces the water upward, and forms 
the ‘‘spouts,’? which usually indicate to 
the whalers the position of their game. 
The ‘‘ spouts ’’ vary in appearance, as has 
been mentioned, owing to the number and 
situation of the orifices by which the ex- 
hausted air escapes. No sooner is the 
vitiated air exhaled, than the lungs receive 
a new supply; and the animal either re- 
mains near the surface, rolling about and 
sporting amid the waves, or descends 
again, a short distance, in quest of its 
food. This food, also, varies materially 
in the different species. The right whale 
is supposed to live on what may be termed 
marine insects, or the molluscz of the 
ocean, which it is thought he obtains by 
running in the parts of the sea where they 
most abound; arresting them by the hairy 
fibers which grow on the laminz of bone 
that, in a measure, compose his jaws, hav- 
ing no teeth. The spermaceti, however, 
is furnished with regular grinders, which 
he knows very well how to use, and with 
which he often crushes. the boats of those 
who comeagainst him. Thus, the whalers 


‘oars, but entirely without success. 


83 


have but one danger to guard against, in 
assaulting the common animal, viz., his 
flukes, or tail; while the spermaceti, in 
addition to the last means of defense, 
possesses those of his teeth or jaws. As 
this latter animal is quite one-third head, 
he has no very great dissemblance to the 
alligator in this particular. 

By means of this brief description of the 
physical formation and habits of the ani- 
mals of which our adventurers were in 
pursuit, the general reader will be the 
better able to understand that which it is 
our duty now to record. After rowing 
the distance named, the boats became a 
little separated, in their search for the 
fish. That spouts had been seen, there 
was no doubt; though, since quitting the 
schooners, no one in the boats had got 
a further view of the fish—if fish, ani- 
mals with respiratory organs can be 
termed. A good lookout for spouts had 
been kept by each man at the steering- 
Had 
not Roswell and Daggett, previous to 
leaving their respective vessels, seen the 
signs of whales with their own eyes, it is 
probable that they would now have both 
been disposed to return, calling in their 
mates. But, being certain that the creat- 
ures they sought were not far distant, 
they continued slowly to separate, each 
straining his eyes in quest of his game, as 
his boat rose on the summit of the rolling 
and tossing waves. Water in motion was 
all around them; and the schooners work- 
ing slowly up against the trades, was all 
that rewarded their vigilant and anxious 
looks. Twenty times did each fancy that 
he saw the dark back, or head, of the 
object he sought; but as often did it 
prove to be no more than a lipper of 
water, rolling up into a hummock ere it 
broke, or melting away again into the 
general mass of the unquiet ocean. When 
it is remembered that the surface of the 
sea is tossed into a thousand fantastic 
outlines, as its waves roll along, it can 
readily be imagined how such mistakes 
could arise. 

At length Gardiner discerned that which 
his practiced eye well knew. It was the 
flukes or extremity of the tail of an enor- 


84 


mous whale, distant from him less than 
a quarter of a mile, and in such a position 
as to place the animal at about the same 
breadth of water from Daggett. It would 
seem that both of these vigilant officers 
perceived their enemy at the same instant, 
for each boat started for it as if it had 
been instinct with life. The pike or the 
shark could not have darted toward its 
prey with greater promptitude, and scarce- 
ly with greater velocity than these two 
boats. Very soon the whole herd was 
seen, Swimming along against the wind, 
an enormous bull whale leading, while 
half a dozen calves kept close to the sides 
of their dams, or sported among them- 
selves, much as the offspring of land ani- 
mals delight in their youth and strength. 
Presently a mother rolled lazily over on 
her side, permitting its calf to suck. 
Others followed this example; and then 
the leader of the herd ceased his passage 
to windward, but began to circle the spot, 
as if in complaisance to those considerate 
nurses who thus waited on the wants of 
their young. At this interesting moment 
the boats came glancing in among the 
herd. 

Had the competition and spirit of rivalry 
been at a lower point among our adven- 
turers than it actually was, greater cau- 
tion might have been observed. It is just 
as dangerous to assault a whale that has 
its young to defend, as to assault most 
other animals. We know’that the most 
delicate women become heroines in such 
straits; and nature seems to have given 
to the whole sex, whether endowed with 
reason or only with an instinct, the same 
disposition to die in defense of the helpless 
creatures that so much depend on their 
care. But no one there now thought of 
the risk he ran, it being the Vineyard 
against Oyster Pond, one Sea Lion against 
the other, and, in many instances, pocket 
against pocket. 

Roswell, as if disdaining all meaner 
game, pulled quite through the herd, and 
laid the bows of his boat directly on the 
side of the old bull—a hundred-barrel 
whale at the very least. No sooner did 
the enormous ereature feel the harpoon, 
than, throwing its flukes upward, it de- 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


scended into the depths of the ocean, with 
a velocity that caused smoke to arise from 
the chuck through which the line passed. 
Ordinarily, the movement of a whale is 
not much faster than an active man can 
walk ; and, when it runs on the surface, 
its speed seldom exceeds that of a swift 
vessel under full sail; but, when suddenly 
startled, with the harpoon in its blubber, 
the animal is capable of making a pro- 
digious exertion. When struck, it usually 
‘*sounds,’’ as it is termed, or runs down- 
ward, sometimes to the depth of a mile; 
and it is said that instances have been 
known in which the fish inflicted great 
injury on itself, by dashing its head against 
rocks. 

In the case before us, after running out 
three or four hundred fathoms of line, 
the ‘‘bull’’ to which Gardiner had “ fast- 
ened,’’ came up to the surface, “ blowed,”’ 
and began to move slowly toward the 
herd again. No sooner was the harpoon 
thrown, than a change took place in the 
disposition of the crew of the boat, which 
it may be well to explain. The harpoon 
is a barbed javelin, fastened to a staff to 
give it momentum. The line is attached 
to this weapon, the proper use of which 
is to *‘ fasten ’’ to the fish, though it some- 
times happens that the animal is killed 
at the first blow. This is when the har-- 
poon has been hurled by a very skillful 
and vigorous harpooner. Usually, this 
weapon penetrates some distance into the 
blubber in which a whale is encased, and 
when it is drawn back by the plunge of 
the fish, the barbed parts get imbedded 
in the tough integuments of the hide, to- 
gether with the blubber, and hold. : The 
iron of the harpoon being very soft, the 
Shank bends under the strain of the line, 
leaving the staff close to the animal’s 
body. Owing to this arrangement the 
harpoon offers less resistance to the 
water, as the whale passes swiftly 
through it. No sooner did the boat- 
steerer, or harpooner, cast his ‘‘irons,’’ 
as whalers term the harpoon, than he 
changed places with Roswell, who left 
the steering-oar, and proceeded forward 
to wield the lance, the weapon with which 
the victory is finally consummated. 


| 


f 


THE 


The men now “peaked ”’ their oars, as 


| jtis termed; or they placed the handles 


in cleats made to receive them, leaving 
the blades elevated in the air, so as to be 
quite clear of the water. This was done 
to get rid of the oars, in readiness for 
other duty, while the instruments were 
left in the tholes, to be resorted to in 
emergencies. This gives a whale-boat a 
peculiar appearance, with its five long 
oars raised in the air, at angles approach- 
ing forty-five degrees. In the meantime, 
as the buil approached the herd, or 
school,* as the whalers term it, the boat’s 
crew began to haul in line, the boat-steerer 
coiling it away carefully, in a tub placed 
in the stern-sheets purposely to receive it. 
Any one can understand how important 
it was that this part of the duty should 
be well performed, since bights of line 
running out of a boat, dragged by a 
whale, would prove so many snares to the 
men’s legs, unless previously disposed of 
in a place proper to let it escape without 
this risk. For this reason it is, that the 
end of a line is never permitted to run out 
at the bow of a boat at all. It might do 
some injury in its passage, and an ax is 
always applied near the bows, when it is 
found necessary to cut from a whale. 

It was so unusual a thing to see a fish 
turn toward the spot where it was struck, 
that Roswell did not know what to make 
of this maneuver in his bull. At first he 
supposed the animal meant to make fight, 


and set upon him with his tremendous 


jaws; but it seemed that caprice or alarm 
directed the movement; for, after coming 
within a hundred yards of the boat, the 
creature turned and commenced sculling 
away to windward, with wide and nervous 
sweeps of its formidable flukes. It is 
by this process that all the fish of this 
genus force their way through the water, 
their tails being admirably adapted to the 
purpose. As the men had showed the 


utmost activity in hauling in upon the 


line, by the time the whale went off to 
windward again they had got the boat up 
within about four hundred feet of him. 


*We suppose this word to be a corruption of the 
Dutch “ schule,’’ which, we take it, means the same 


SHA LIONS. 


85 


Now commenced a tow, dead to wind- 
ward, it being known that a fish, when 
struck, seldom runs at first in any other 
direction. The rate at which the whale 
moved was not at the height of his speed, 
though it exceeded six knots. Occasion- 
ally, this rate was lessened, and in several 
instances his speed was reduced to less 
than half of that just mentioned. When- 
ever one of the lulls occurred, the men 
would haul upon the line, gradually get- 
ting nearer and nearer to the fish, until 
they were within fifty feet of his tremen- 
dous flukes. Here, a turn was taken with 
the line, and an opportunity to use the 
lance was waited for. 

Whalers say that a forty-barrel bull of 
the spermaceti sort is much the most 
dangerous to deal with of all the animals 
of this species. The larger bulls are in- 
finitely the most powerful, and drive 
these half-grown creatures away in herds 
by themselves, that are called ‘‘pads,”’ a 
circumstance that probably renders the 
young bull discontented and fierce. The 
last is not only more active than the 
larger animal, but is much more dis- 
posed to make fight, commonly giving 
his captors the greatest trouble. This 
may be one of the reasons why Roswell 
Gardiner now found himself towing at a 
reasonable rate, so close upon the flukes 
of a hundred-barrel whale. Still, there 
was that in the movements of this ani- 
mal that induced our hero to be exceed- 
ingly wary. He was now two leagues 
from the schooners, and half that distance 
from the other boats, neither of which 
had as yet fastened to a fish. This latter 
circumstance was imputed to the difficulty 
the different officers had in making their 
selections—cows, of the spermaceti breed, 
when they give suck, being commonly 
light, and yielding, comparatively, very 
small quantities of head-matter and oil. 
In selecting the bull, Roswell had shown 
his judgment, the male animal commonly 
returning to its conauerors twice the profit 
that is derived from the female. 

The whale to which Roswell was fast 
continued sculling away to windward for 
quite two hours, causing the men to en- 
tirely lose sight of the other boats, and 


86 WORKS 


bringing the topsails of the schooners 
themselves down to the water’s edge. 
Fortunately, it was not yet noon, and 
there were no immediate apprehensions 
from the darkness; nor did the bull ap- 
pear to be much alarmed, though the boat 
was towing so close in the rear. At first, 
or before the irons were thrown, the ut- 
most care had been taken not to make a 
noise; but the instant the crew were 
‘<fast,’’? whispers were changed into loud 
calls, and orders were passed in shouts, 
rather than in verbal commands. The 
wildest excitement prevailed among the 
men, strangely blended with a cool dex- 
terity ; but it was very apparent that a 
high sporting fever was raging among 
them. Gardiner himself was much the 
coolest man in his own boat, as became 
his station and very responsible duties. 

Stimson, the oldest and the best seaman 
in the schooner—he who had admonished 
his young commander on the subject of 
the gratitude due to the Deity—acted as 
the master’s boat-steerer, having first 
performed the duty of harpooner. It was 
to him that Gardiner now addressed the 
remarks he made, after having been fast- 
ened to his whale fully two hours. 

‘‘This fellow is likely to give us a long 
drag,’’ said the master, as he stood bal- 
ancing himself on the clumsy cleats in the 
bows of the boat, using his lance as an 
adept in saltation poises his pole on the 
wire, the water curling fairly above the 
gunwale forward, with the rapid move- 
ment of the boat; ‘I would haul up along- 
side, and give him the lance, did I not 
distrust them flukes. I believe he knows 
we are here.”’ 

‘‘That he does—that does he, Captain 
Gar’ner. It’s always best to be moderate 
and wait your time, sir. There’s a jerk 
about that chap’s flukes that I don’t like 
myself, and it’s best to see what he would 
be at, before we haul up any nearer. 
Don’t you see, sir, that every minute or 
two he strikes down, instead of sculling 
off handsomely and with a wide sweep, as 
becomes a whale ?’’ 

‘‘That is just the motion I distrust, 
Stephen, and I shall wait a bit to see 
what he would be at. I hope those ship- 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


keepers will be busy, and work the schoon- 
ers well up to windward before it gets to 
be dark. Our man is asleep half his time, 
and is apt to let the vessel fall off a point 
or two.” 

‘“‘Mr. Hazard gave him caution to keep 
a bright lookout, sir, and I think he’ll be 
apt to—look out, sir !—look out !”’ 

This warning was well-timed; for, just 
at that instant, the whale ceased sculiing, 
and lifting its enormous tail high in the 
air, it struck five or six blows on the sur- 
face of the water, that made a noise which 
might have been heard half a league, be- 
sides filling the atmosphere immediately 
around him with spray. As the tail first 
appeared in the air, line was permitted to 
run out of the boat, increasing the dis- 
tance between its bows and the flukes to 
quite a hundred feet. Nothing could bet- 
ter show the hardy characters of the 
whalers than the picture then presented 
by Roswell Gardiner and his companions. 
In the midst of the Atlantic, leagues from 
their vessel, and no other boat in sight, 
there they sat patiently waiting the mo- 
ment when the giant of the deep should 
abate in his speed, or in his antics, to en- 


able them to approach and complete their 


capture. Most of the men sat with their 
arms crossed, and bodies half turned, re- 
garding the scene, while the two officers, 
the master and boat-steerer, if the latter 
could properly be thus designated, watched 
each evolution with a keenness of vigi- 
Jance that let nothing like a sign or a 
symptom escape them. 

Such was the state of things, the whale 
still threshing the sea with his flukes, 
when a cry among his men induced Ros- 
well fora moment to look aside. There 
came Daggett fast to a small bull, which 
was running directly in the wind’s eye 
with great speed, dragging the boat after 
him, which was towing astern at a dis- 
tance of something like two hundred fath- 
oms. At first, Roswell thought he should | 
be compelled to cut from his whale, so 
directly toward his own boat did the other 
animal direct his course. But, intimidated, 
most probably, by the tremendous blows 
with which the larger bull continued to 
belabor the ocean, the smaller animal 


THE 


sheered away in time to avoid a collision, 
though he now began to circle the spot 
where his dreaded monarch lay. This 
change of course gave rise to a new sort 
of apprehension. Ifthe smaller bull should 
continue to encircle the larger, there was 
great reason to believe that the line of 
Daggett might get entangled with the 
boat of Gardiner, and produce a collision 
that might prove fatal to all there. In 
order to be ready to meet this danger, 
Roswell ordered his crew to be on the 
lookout, and to have their knives in a 
state for immediate use. It was not 
known what might have been the conse- 
quence of this circular movement as re- 
spects the two boats; for, before they 
could come together, Daggetit’s line act- 
ually passed into the mouth of Gardi- 
ner’s whale, and drawing up tight into 
the angle of his jaws, set the monster 
in motion with a momentum and power 
that caused the iron to draw from the 
smaller whale, which by this time had 
more than half encircled the animal. 
So rapid was the rate of running now, 
that Roswell was obliged to let out line, 
his whale sounding to a prodigious depth. 
Daggett did the same, unwilling to cut 
as long as he could hold on to his line. 
At the expiration of five minutes the 
large bull came up again for breath, with 
both lines still fast to him ; the one in the 
regular way, or attached to the harpoon, 
and the other jammed in the jaws of the 
animal by means of the harpoon and staff, 
which formed a sort of toggle at the an- 
gle of his enormous mouth. In consequence 
of feeling this unusual tenant, the fish 
compressed its jaws together, thus render- 
ing the fastening so much the more secure. 
As both boats had let run line freely while 
the whale was sounding, they now found 
themselves near a quarter of a mile astern 
of him, towing along, side by side, and not 
fifty feet asunder. If the spirit of rivalry 
had been aroused among the crew of these 
two boats before, it was now excited to a 
degree that menaced acts of hostility. 
‘‘You know, of course, Captain Dag- 
gett, that this is my whale,” said Gardi- 
ner. ‘I was fast to him regularly, and 
was only waiting for him to become a 


SHA LIONS. 


87 


little quiet to lance him, when your whale 
crossed his course, fouled your line, and 
has got you fast in an unaccountable way, 
but not according to whale law.’’ 

“I don’t know that. I fastened to a 
whale, Captain Gar’ner, and am fast to a 
whale now. It must be proved that Ihave 
no right to the creatur’ before I give him 
Wis, 

Gardiner understood the sort of a man 
with whom he had to deal too well to 
waste words in idle remonstrances. Re- 
solved to maintain his just rights at every 
hazard, he ordered his men to haul in upon 
the line, the movement of the whale be- 
coming so slow as to admit of this meas- 
ure. Daggett’s crew did the same, and a 
warm contest existed between the two 
boats, as to who should now first close 
with the fish and kill it. This was not a 
moment for prudence and caution. Itwas 
‘haul in—haul in, boys,’’ in both boats, 
without any regard to the danger of ap- 
proaching the whale. A very few min- 
utes sufficed to bring the parties quite ina 
line with the flukes, Gardiner’s boat com- 
ing up on the larboard or left-hand side of 
the animal, where its iron was fast, and 
Daggett’s on the opposite, its line leading 
out of the jaws of the fish in that direc- 
tion. The two masters stood erect on 
their respective clumsy cleats, each pois- 
ing his lance, waiting only to get near 
enough to strike. The men were now at 
the oars, and without pausing for any- 
thing, both crews sprung to their ashen 
instruments, and drove the boats head- 
long upon the fish. Daggett, perhaps, 
was the coolest and most calculating at 
that moment, but Roswell was the most 
nervous and the boldest. The boat of the 
last actually hit the side of the whale, as 
its young commander drove his lance 
through the blubber, into the vitals of the 
fish. At the same instant Daggett threw 
his lance with consummate skill, and went 
to the quick. It was now ‘stern all!”’ 
for life, each boat backing off from the 
danger as fast as hands could urge. The 
sea was in a foam, the fish going into his 
‘flurry ’? almost as soon as struck, and 
both crews were delighted to see the red of 
the blood mingling its deep hues with the 


88 


white of the troubled water. 


fluid dyed in his gore. 
turned up and was dead. 


CHAPTER XII. 


‘‘God save you, sir!”’ 
‘‘And you, sir! you are welcome.” 
“Travel you far on, or are you at the 
furthest ? ” 
‘Sir, at the furthest for a week or two.” 
—SHAKESPE ARE. 


GARDINER and Daggett met, face to 
face, on the carcass of the whale. Each 
struck his lance into the blubber, steady- 
ing himself by its handle; and each eyed 
the other in a way that betokened feelings 
awakened by a keen desire to defend his 
rights. It is a fault of American char- 
acter—a fruit of the institutions, beyond 
a doubt—that renders men unusually in- 
disposed to give up. This stubbornness 
of temperament, thatso many mistake for 
a love of liberty and independence, is pro- 
ductive of much good, when the parties 
happen to be right, and of quite as much 
evil, when they happen to be wrong. It 
is ever the wisest, as, indeed, it is the 
noblest course, to defer to that which is 


just, with a perfect reliance on its being 


the course pointed out by the finger of in- 
fallible wisdom and truth. He who does 
this need feel no concern for his dignity, 
or for his success; being certain that it is 
intended that right shall prevail in the 
end, as prevail it will and does. But both 
our shipmasters were too much excited to 
feel the force of these truths; and there 
they stood, sternly regarding each other, 
as if it were their purpose to commence a 
new struggle for the possession of the 
leviathan of the deep. 

“Captain Daggett,’ said Roswell 
Sharply, ‘‘ you are too old a whaler not 
to know whaling law. My irons were 
fast in this fish; I never have been loose 
from it since it was first struck, and my 
lance killed it. Under such circumstances, 
sir, I am surprised that any man, who 
knows the usages among whalers, should 
have stuck by the creature as you have 
done.’’ 


Once or 
twice the animal spouted, but it was a 
In ten minutes it 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


“It’s in my natur’, Gar’ner,” was: the 
answer. ‘I stuck by you when you was 
dismasted under Hatteras, and I stick by 
everything that I undertake. This is 
what I call Vineyard natur’; and I’m not 
about to discredit my native country.” 

“This is idle talk,’ returned Roswell, 
casting a severe glance at the men in the 
Vineyard boat, among whom a common 
smile arose, as if they highly approved 
of the reply of their own officer. “You 
very well know that Vineyard law can- 
not settle such a question, but Amer- 
ican law. Were you man enough to 
take this whale from me, as I trust you 
are not, on our return home you could 
be, and would be, made to pay smartly 
for the act. Uncle Sam has a long arm, 
with which he sometimes reaches round 
the whole earth. Before you proceed 
any further in this matter, it may be 
well to remember that.’’ 

Daggett reflected ; and it is probable 
that, as he cooled off from the excitement 
created by his late exertions, he fully 
recognized the justice of the other’s re- 
marks, and the injustice of his own 
claims. Still, it seemed to him un-Amer- 
ican, un-Vineyard, if the reader please, 
to “ give up;’’ and he clung to his error 
with as much pertinacity as if he had been 
right. 

‘If you are fast, I am fast, too. I’m 
not so certain of your law. When aman 
puts an iron into a whale, commonly it is 
his fish, if he can get him, and kill him. 
But there is a law above all whalers’ law, 
and that is the law of Divine Providence. 
Providence has fastened us to this crittur’, 
as if on purpose to give us a right in it ; 
and I’m by no means so sure States’ law 
won’t uphold that doctrine. Then, I lost 
my own whale by means of this, and am 
entitled to some compensation for such a — 
loss.’ 

** You lost your own whale because he 
led round the head of mine, and not only 
drew his own iron, but came nigh causing 
me to cut. If any one is entitled to dam- 
age for such an act, it is I, who have 
been put to extra trouble in getting my 
fish.”’ | . 

“I do believe it was my lance that did 


‘THE SHA LIONS. 


the job for the fellow! I darted, and you 
struck; in that. way I got the start of 
you, and may claim to have made the 
crittur’ spout the first blood. But, hear- 
kee, Gar’ner—there’s my hand—we’ve 
been friends so far, and I want to hold 
out friends. I will make you a proposal, 
therefore. Join stocks from this moment, 
and whale, and seal, and do all things else 
incommon. When we make a final stow- 
age for the return passage, we can make 
a final division, and each man take his 
share of the common adventure.’’ 

To do Roswell justice, he saw through 
the artifice of this proposition the instant 
it was uttered. It had the effect, not- 
withstanding, a good deal to mollify his 
feelings, since it induced him to believe 
that Daggett was maneuvering to get at 
his great secret, rather than to assail his 
rights. 

“You are part owner of your schooner, 
Captain Daggett,’? our hero answered, 
‘while I have no other interest in mine 
than my lay, as her master. You may 
have authority to make such a bargain, 
but Ihave none. It is my duty to fill the 
craft as fast and as full as I can, and 
carry her back safely to Deacon Pratt ; 
but, I dare say, your Vineyard people will 
let you cruise about the earth at your 
pleasure, trusting to Providence for a 
profit. I cannot accept your offer.’’ 

«This is answering like a man, Gar’ner, 
and I like you all the better for it. Forty 
or fifty barrels of ile sha’n’t break friend- 
ship between us. I helped you into port 
at Beaufort, and gave up the salvage ; 
and now I’ll help tow your whale along- 
side, and see you fairly through this busi- 
ness, too. Perhaps I shall have all the 
better luck for being a little generous.”’ 

There was prudence, as well as art, in 
this decision of Daggett’s. Notwithstand- 
ing his ingenious pretensions to a claim in 
the whale, he knew perfectly well that no 
law would sustainit ; and that, in addition 
to the chances of being beaten on the spot, 
which were at least equal, he would cer- 
tainly be beaten in the courts at home, 
should he really attempt to carry out his 
declared design. Then, he really deferred 
to the expectation that his future good 


89 


fortune might be influenced by his present 
forbearance. Superstition forms a mate- 
rial part of a sailor’s nature, if indeed it do 
not that of every man engaged in hazard- 
ous and uncertain adventures. How far 
his hopes were justified in this last respect 
will appear in the contents of a communi- 
cation that Deacon Pratt received from 
the master of his schooner, and to which 
we will now refer, as the clearest and 
briefest mode of continuing the narrative. 

The Sea Lion left Oyster Pond late in 
September. It was the third day of 
March in the succeeding year that Mary 
was standing at the window, gazing with 
melancholy interest at that point in the 
adjacent waters where last she had seen, 
nearly six months before, the vessel of 
Roswell disappear behind the woods of the 
island that bears his family name. There 
had been a long easterly gale, but the 
weather had changed; the south wind 
blew softly, and all the indications of an 
early spring were visible. For the first 
time in three months, she had raised the 
sash of that window; and the air that 
entered was bland, and savored of the ap- 
proaching season. 

‘‘T dare say, uncle’’—the deacon was 
writing near a very low wood fire, which 
was scarcely more than embers—‘‘I dare 
say, uncle,’’ said the sweet voice of Mary, 
which was a little tremulous with feeling, 
‘that the ocean is calm enough to-day. 
It is very silly in us to tremble, when 
there is a storm, for those who must now 
be so many, many thousand miles away. 
What is the distance between the antarc- 
tic seas and Oyster Pond, I wonder ? ”’ 

“You ought to be able to calculate that’ 
yourself, gal, or what is the use to pay 
for your schooling ? ” 

‘“‘T should not know how to set about 
it, uncle,’? returned the gentle Mary, 
‘though I should be very glad to 
know.”’ 

‘‘How many miles are there in a de- 
gree of latitude, child? You know that, 
I believe.’’ 

‘‘ More than sixty-nine, sir.”’ 

«Well, in what latitude is Oyster 
Pond ? ”’ 

‘*T have heard Roswell say that we 


90 WORKS 


were a little higher, as he calls it, than 
forty-one.”’ 

““Well, 41 times 69”’—figuring as he 
spoke—‘‘ make 2,829; say we are 3,000 
miles from the equator, the nearest way 
we can get there. Then the antarctic 
circle commences in 23° 30’ south, which 
_deducted from 90 degrees, leave just 66° 
30’ between the equator and the nearest 
spot within the sea you have mentioned. 
Now 66° 30’ give about 4,589 statute miles 
more, in a straight line, allowing only 69 
to a degree. The two sums, added to- 
gether, make 7,589 miles, or rather more. 
But the road is not straight by any means, 
as shipmasters tell me; and I suppose 
Gar’ner must have gone, at the very 
least, 8,000 miles to reach his latitude, to 
Say nothing of a considerable distance of 
longitude to travel over, to the southward 
of Cape Horn.’’ 

“‘It is a terrible distance to have a 
friend from us !’’ ejaculated Mary, though 
in a low, dejected tone. 

‘It is a terrible distance for a man to 
trust his property away from him, gal; 
and Ido not sleep a-nights for thinking 
of it, when I remember where my own 
schooner may be all this time !’’ 

*‘Ah, here is Baiting Joe, and with a 
letter in his hand, uncle, I do declare ! ”’ 

It might be a secret hope that impelled 
Mary, for away she bounded like a young 
fawn, running to meet the old fisherman 
at the door. No sooner did her eyes fall 
on the superscription, than the large pack- 
age was pressed to her heart, and she 
seemed, for an instant, lost in thanksgiv- 
ing. That no one might unnecessarily be 
a witness of what passed between her 
uncle and herself, Joe was directed to the 
kitchen, where a good meal, a glass of 
rum and water, and the quarter of a dollar 
that Mary gave him, as she showed the 
way, satisfied him with the results of his 
trouble. 

“Here it is, uncle,”’ cried the nearly 
breathless girl, re-entering the “ keeping- 
room,’’ and unconsciously holding the 
letter still pressed to her heart,—‘‘a 
letter—a letter from Roswell, in his own 
precious hand.’’ 

A flood of tears gave some relief to 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


feelings that had so long been pent, and 
eased a heart that had been compressed 
nearly to breaking. At any other time, 
and at this unequivocal evidence of the 
hold the young man had on the affections 
of his niece, Deacon Pratt would have re- 
monstrated with her on the folly of refus- 
ing to become ‘‘ Roswell Gar’ner’s”’ wife ; 
but the sight of the letter drove all other 
thoughts from his head, concentrating his 
whole being in the fate of the schooner. 

‘‘Look, and see if it has the antarctic 
post-mark on it, Mary,’”’ said the deacon, 
in a tremulous voice. 

This request was not made so much in 
ignorance asin trepidation. The deacon 
very well knew that the islands the Sea 
Inon was to visit were uninhabited, and 
were destitute of post-offices; but his 
ideas were confused, and apprehension 
rendered him silly. 

“Uncle,’’ exclaimed the niece, wiping 
the tears from a face that was now rosy 
with blushes at her own weakness, 
‘“surely, Roswell can find no post-office 
where he is! ”’ 

‘But the letter must have some post- 
mark, child. Baiting Joe has not brought 
it himself into the country.” 

‘It is post-marked ‘New York,’ sir, 
and nothing else. Yes, here is ‘ For- 
warded by Cane, Spriggs & Button, Rio 
de Janeiro.” It must have been put into 
a post-office there.’’ 

“Rio !—Here is more salvage, gal— 
more salvage coming to afflict me! ”’ 

** But you had no salvage to pay, uncle, 
on the other occasion; perhaps there will 
be none to pay on this. Had I not better 
open the letter at once, and see what has 
happened ? ” 

**Yes, open it, child,’? answered the 
deacon, in a voice so feeble as to be scarcely 
audible—‘*‘ open it at once, as you say, and 
let me know my fate. Anything is better 
than this torment! ” 

Mary did not wait for a second permis- 
sion, but instantly broke the seal. It 
might have been the result of education, 
or there may be such a thing as female 
instinct in these matters; but certain it 
is, that the girl turned toward the win- 
dow, as she tore the paper asunder, and 


THE SHEA LIONS. 


slipped the letter that bore her own name 
into a fold of her dress, so dexterously, 
that one far more keen-sighted than her 
uncle would not have detected the act. 
No sooner was her own letter thus secured, 
than the niece offered the principal epistle 
to her uncle. 

‘‘Read it yourself, Mary,’’ said the last, 
in his querulous tones. ‘‘ My eyes are so 
dim that I could not see to read it.”’ 

<¢<« Rio de Janeiro, Province of Brazil, 
South America, Nov. 14th, 1819,’ ”’ com- 
-menced the niece. 

‘Rio de Janeiro!’’ interrupted the 
uncle. ‘‘ Why, that is round Cape Horn, 
isn’t it, Mary ? ”’ 

‘‘Certainly not, sir. Brazil is on the 
east side of the Andes, and Rio de Janeiro 
is its capital. The king of Portugal lives 
there now, and has lived there as long as 
I can remember.”’ 

““Yes, yes; Lhad forgotten. The Bra- 
zil Banks, where our whalers go, are in 
the Atlantic. But what can have taken 
Gar’ner into Rio, unless it be to spend 
more money ! ”’ 

“‘By reading the letter, sir, we shall 
soon know. I see there is something 
about spermaceti oil here.”’ 

‘‘Tle? And spalm ile, do you say 
exclaimed the deacon, brightening up at 
once—‘‘ Read on, Mary, my good gal— 
read the letter as fast as you can—read it 
at a trot.”’ 

‘¢<¢Peacon Israel Pratt— Dear sir, 
continued Mary, in obedience to this com- 
mand, ‘‘‘the two schooners sailed from 
Beaufort, North Carolina, as stated al- 
ready, per mail, in a letter written at that 
port, and which has doubtless come to 
hand. We had fine weather, and a toler- 
able run of it, until we reached the calm 
latitudes, where we were detained by the 
usual changes for about a week. On the 
18th Oct. the pleasant cry of ‘‘ there she 
spouts’? was heard aboard here, and we 
found ourselves in the neighborhood of 
whales. Both schooners lowered their 
boats, and I was soon fast to a fine bull, 
who gave us a long tow before the lance 
was put into him, and he was made to 
spout blood. Captain Daggett set up 
some claims to this fish, in consequence of 


122 


999 


9) 


his line’s getting foul of the creature’s 
jaws, but he changed his mind in good 
season, and clapped on to help tow the 
whale down to the vessel. His irons drew 
from a young bull, and a good deal of dis- 
satisfaction existed among the other crew, 
until, fortunately, the school of young 
bulls came round quite near us, when Cap- ~ 
tain Daggett and his people succeeded in 
securing no less than three of the fish, and 
Mr. Hazard got a very fine one for us. 

‘©¢T am happy to say that we had very 
pleasant weather to cut in, and secured 
every gallon of the oil of both our whales, 
as did Captain Daggett all of his. Our 
largest bull made one hundred and nine- 
teen barrels, of which forty-three barrels 
was head-matter. I neversaw better case 
and junk in a whale in mylife. The small- 
est bull turned out well, too, making fifty- 
eight barrels, of which twenty-one was 
head. Daggett got one hundred and 
thirty-three barrels from his three fish, a 
very fair proportion of head, though not 
as large as ourown. Having this oil on 
board, we came in here after a pleasant 
run; and I have shipped, as per invoice 
inclosed, one hundred and seventy-seven 
barrels of spermaceti oil, viz., sixty-four 
barrels of head, and rest in body-oil, to 
your order, care of Fish & Grinnell, New 
York, by the brig Jason, Captain Wil- 
liams, who will sail for home about the 
20th proximo, and to whom I trust this 
letter——’ ”’ 

‘Stop, Mary, my dear—this news is 
overpowering—it is almost too good to be 
true,’ interrupted the deacon, nearly as 
much unmanned by this intelligence of his 
good fortune as he had previously been by 
his apprehensions. ‘‘ Yes, it does seem 
too good to be true; read it again, child ; 
yes, read every syllable of it again!” 

Mary complied, delighted enough to hear 
all she could of Roswell’s success. 

‘“Why, uncle,’’ said the deeply-inter- 
ested girl, ‘all this oil is spermaceti: It 
is worth a great deal more than so much 
of that which comes of the right whale.’’ 

‘‘More! Ay, nearly as three for one. 
Hunt me up the last ‘Spectator,’ girl— 
hunt me up the last ‘Spectator,’ and let 
me see at once at what they quote spalm.”’ 


92 


Mary soon found the journal, and handed 
it to her uncle. 

“Yes, here it is, and quoted $1.124 per 
gallon, as I live! That’s nine shillings a 
gallon, Mary—just calculate on that bit 
of paper—thirty times one hundred and 
seventy-seven, Mary ; how much is that, 
child ? ”’ 

“‘T make it 5,310, uncle—yes, that is 
right. But what are the 30 times for, 
sir? ”? 

**Gallons, gal, gallons. Each barrel 
has 30 gallons in it, if not more. There 
ought to be 82 by rights, but this is a 
cheating age. Now multiply 5,310 by 9, 
and see what that comes to.’’ 

“ Just 47,790, sir, as near as I can get 
Ab? 

““Yes, that’s the shillings. Now divide 

7,790 by 8, my dear. Be actyve, Mary, 
be actyve.’’ 

‘It leaves 5,973, with a remainder of 6, 
sir. I believe I’m right.’’ 

‘I dare say you are, child; yes, I dare 
Say youare. This isthedollars. A body 
may call them $6,000, as the barrels will 
a little overrun the 30 gallons. My share 
of this will be two-thirds, and that will 
net the handsome sum of, say $4,000.! ”’ 

The deacon rubbed his hands with de- 
light, and having found his voice again, 
his niece was astonished at hearing him 
utter what he had to say, with a sort of 
glee that sounded in her ears as very un- 
natural, coming from him. So it was, 
however, and she dutifully endeavored not 
to think of it. 

“Four thousand dollars, Mary, will 
quite cover the first cost of the schooner ; 
that is, without including outfit and spare 
- rigging, of which her master took about 
twice as much as was necessary. He’s a 
capital fellow, is that young Gar’ner, and 
will make an excellent husband, as I’ve 
always told you, child. A little wasteful, 
perhaps, but an excellent youth at the 
bottom. I dare say he lost his spars off 
Cape Hatteras in trying to outsail that 
Daggett; but I overlook all that now. 
He’s a capital youth to work upon a 
whale or a sea-elephant! There isn’t his 
equal, as I’ll engage, in all Ameriky, if 
you'll only let him know where to find the 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


creatur’s. I knew his character before I 
engaged him; for no man but a real skin- 
ner shall ever command a craft of mine.’’ 

‘‘Roswell 7s a good fellow,’? answered 
Mary, with emphasis, the tears filling her 
eyes as she listened to these eulogiums of 
her uncle on the youth she loved with all 
of a woman’s tenderness, at the very mo- 
ment she scrupled to place her happiness 
on one whose ‘‘God was not her God.” 
‘‘No one knows him better than I, uncle, 
and no one respects him more. But had 
I not better read the rest of his letter ? 
—there is a good deal more of it.”’ 

‘‘Go on, child, go on—but read the 
part over again where he speaks of the 
quantity of the ile he has shipped to Fish 
& Grinnell.” 

Mary did as requested, when she pro- 
ceeded to read aloud the rest of the com- 
munication. 

‘*T have been much at a loss how to act 
in regard to Captain Daggett,’’ said Ros- 
well, in his letter. ‘‘He stood by me so 
manfully and generously off Cape Hat- 
teras, that I did not like to part company 
in the night, or in a squall, which would 
have seemed ungrateful, as well as wear- 
ing a sort of runaway look. I am afraid 
he has some knowledge of the existence 
of our islands, though I doubt whether he 
has their latitude and longitude exactly. 
Something there is of this nature on 
board the other schooner, her people often 
dropping hints to my officers and men, 
when they have been gamming. I have 
sometimes fancied Daggett sticks so close 
to us, that he may get the advantage of 
our reckoning to help him to what he 
wants to find. Heis no great navigator 
anywhere, running more by signs and 
currents, in my judgment, than by the 
use of his instruments. Still, he could 
find his way to any part of the world.” 

“‘Stop there, Mary; stop a little, and 
let me have time to consider. Isn’t it 
awful, child ?’’ 

The nie¢e changed color, and seemed 
really frightened, so catching was the 
deacon’s distress, though she scarce knew 
what was the matter. 

‘* What is awful, uncle? ’’ at length she 
asked, anxious to know the worst. 


THH SHA LIONS. 


<‘This covetousness in them Vineyard- 
ers! I consider it both awful and wicked. 
I must get the Rev. Mr. Whittle to preach 
against the sin of covetousness; it does 
gain so much ground in Ameriky! The 
whole Church should lift its voice against 
it, or 1t will shortly lift its voice against 
the Church. To think of them Daggetts 
fitting out a schooner to follow my craft 
about the ’arth in this unheard-of man- 
ner; just as if she was a pilot-boat, and 
young Gar’ner a pilot! I do hope the 
fellows will make a wrack of it, among 
the ice of the antarctic seas! That would 
be a fit punishment for their impudence 
and covetousness.”’ 

*‘T suppose, sir, they think that they 


have the same right to sail on the ocean 


that others have. Seals and whales are 
the gifts of God, and one person has no 
more right to them than another.’’ 

“© You forget, Mary, that one man may 
have a secret that another doesn’t know. 
In that case he ought not to go prying 
about like an old woman in a village 
neighborhood. Read on, child, read on, 
and let me know the worst at once.’’ 

‘*7 shall sail to-morrow, having finished 
all my business here, and hope to be off 
Cape Horn in twenty days, if not sooner. 
In what manner Iam to get rid of Dag- 
gett, Ido not yet know. He outsails me 
a little on all tacks, unless it be in very 
heavy weather, when I have a trifling ad- 
vantage over him. It will be in my power 
to quit him any dark night: but if I let 
him go ahead, and he should really have 
any right notions about the position of the 
islands, he might get there first, and make 
havoc among the seals.”’ 

«‘ Awful, awful!’ interrupted the dea- 
con, again; ‘‘that would be the worst of 
all! I won’t allow it; I forbid it—it shall 
not be!’’ 

«Alas! uncle, poor Roswell is too far 
from us now to hear these words. No 
doubt the matter is long since decided, 
and he has acted according to the best of 
his judgment! ”’ 

‘It is terrible to have one’s property so 
far away! Government ought to have 
steamboats, or packets of some sort, run- 
ning between New York and Cape Horn, 


93 


to carry orders back and forth. But we 
shall never have things right, Mary, so 
long as the democrats are uppermost.’’ 

By this remark, which savors very 
strongly of a species of censure that is much 
in fashion in the coteries of that Great Em- 
porium, which it is the taste and pleasure 
of its people to term a commercial em- 
porium, especially among elderly ladies, 
the reader will at once perceive that the 
deacon was a federalist, which was some- 
what of a novelty in Suffolk thirty years 
since. Had he lived down to our own 
times, the old man would probably have 
made all the gyrations in politics that 
have distinguished the school to which he 
would have belonged, and, without his 
own knowledge, most probably, would 
have been as near an example of perpetual 
motion as the world will ever see, through 
his devotion to what are now called ‘‘ whig 
principles.’”? Weare no great politician, 
but time has given us the means of com- 
paring ; and we often smile when we hear 
the disciples of Hamilton, and of Adams, 
and of all that high-toned school, declaim- 
ing against the use of the veto, and talking 
of the ‘‘one man power,’’ and of Congress 
leading: the government! The deacon was 
very apt to throw the opprobrium of even 
a bad season on the administration, and 
the reader has seen what he thought of 
the subject of running packets between 
New York and Cape Horn. 

“There ought to be a large navy, 
Mary—a monstrous navy, so that the ves- 
sels might be kept carrying letters about, 
and serving the public. But we shall never 
have things right until Rufus King, or 
some man like him, gets in. If Gar’ner 
lets that Daggett get the start of him, he 
never need come home again. The islands 
are as much mineasif I had bought them ; 
and I’m not sure anaction wouldn’t lie for 
seals taken on them without my consent. 
Yes, yes; we want a monstrous navy to 
convoy sealers, and carry letters about, 
and keep some folks at home, while it lets 
other folks go about their lawful busi- 
ness.”’ 

‘‘Of what islands are you speaking, 
uncle? Surely the sealing islands, where 
Roswell has gone, are public and uninhab- 


94 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


ited, and no one has a better right there “Yes, indeed, Roswell,’? murmured 


than another !”’ . 

The deacon perceived that he had gone 
too far in his tribulation, and began to 
have a faint notion that he was making a 
fool of himself. He asked his niece, in a 
very faint. voice, therefore, to hand him 
the letter, the remainder of which he 
would endeavor to read himself. Although 
every word that Roswell Gardiner wrote 
was very precious to Mary, the gentle girl 
had a still unopened epistle to herself to 
peruse, and glad enough was she to make 
the exchange. Handing the deacon his 
letter, therefore, she withdrew at once to 
her private room, in order to read her 
own. 

“‘Dearest Mary,’ said Roswell Gardi- 
ner, in this epistle, ‘‘ your uncle will tell 
you what has brought.us into this port, 
and all things connected with the schooner. 
I have sent home more than $4,000 worth 
of oil, and I hope my owner will forgive 
the accident off Currituck, on account of 
this run of good luck. In my opinion, we 
shall yet make a voyage, and that part of 
my fortune will be secure. Would that I 
could feel as sure of finding you more dis- 
posed to be kind to me on my return! I 
read in your Bible every day, Mary, and I 


often pray to God to enlighten my mind, 


if my views have been wrong. As yet, I 
cannot” flatter myself with any change, 
for my old opinions appear rather to be 
more firmly rooted than they were before 
I sailed.’” Here poor Mary heaved a 
heavy sigh, and wiped the tears from her 
eyes. She was pained to a degree she 
could hardly believe possible, though she 
did full credit to Roswell’s frankness. 
Like all devout persons, her faith in the 
efficacy of sacred writ was strong; and 
she so much the more lamented her suit- 
or’s continued blindness, because it re- 
mained after light had shone upon it. 
‘Still, Mary,”’ the letter added, “as I 
have every human inducement to endeavor 
to be right, I shall not throw aside the 
book, by any means. 
lieve; our difference being in what the 
volume teaches. Pray for me, sweetest 
girl—but I know you do, and will continue 
to do, as long as I am absent.’’ 


In that I fully be- 


Mary—‘‘as long as you and I live!” 

‘“* Next to this one great concern of my 
life, comes that which this man Daggett 
gives me,”’ the letter went on to say. “I 
hardly know what to do under all the cir- 
cumstances. Keep in his company much 
longer I cannot, without violating my 
duty to the deacon. Yet it is not easy, 
in any sense, to get rid of him. He has’ 
stood by me so manfully on all occasions, 
and seems so much disposed to make 
good-fellowship of the voyage, that, did 
it depend on myself only, I should at once 
make a bargain with him to seal in com- . 
pany, and to divide the spoils. But this 
is now impossible, and I must quit him in 
some way or other. He outsails me in. 
most weathers, and it is a thing easier 
said than done. What will make it more 
difficult is the growing shortness of the 
nights. The days lengthen fast now, and 
as we go south they will become so much 
longer that, by the time when it will be 
indispensable to separate, it will be nearly 
all day. The thing must be done, how- 
ever, and I trust to luck to be able to 
do it as it ought to be effected. 

‘“« And now, dearest, dearest Mary——”’ 
But why should we lift the veil from the 
feelings of this young man, who concluded 
his letter by pouring out his whole heart 
in a few sincere and manly sentences. 
Mary wept over them most of that day, 
perusing and reperusing them, until her 
eyes would scarce perform their proper 
office. 

A few days later the deacon was made 
a very happy man by the receipt of a 
letter from Fish and Grinnell, notifying 
him of the arrival of his oil, accompanied 
by a most gratifying account of the state 
of the market, and asking for instructions. 
The oil was disposed of, and the deacon 
pocketed his portion of the proceeds as 
Soon as possible; eagerly looking for a 
new and profitable investment for the 
avails. Great was the reputation Ros- 
well Gardiner made by this capture of the 
two spermaceti whales, and by sending 
the proceeds to so good a market. In 
commerce, as in war, success Is all in all, 
though in both success is nearly as often — 


THE SHEA LIONS. 


the result of unforeseen circumstances as 
' of calculation and wisdom. It is true, 
there is a sort of trade, and a sort of 
war, in which prudence and care may 
- effect a great deal, yet are both often out- 
stripped by the random exertions and ad- 
ventures of those who calculate almost 
as wildly as they act. Audacity, as the 
French term it, is a great quality in war, 
and often achieves more than the most 
calculated wisdom—nay, it becomes wis- 
dom in that sort of struggle; and we are 
far from being sure that audacity is not 
sometimes as potent in trade. At all 
events, it was esteemed a bold, as well as 
a prosperous exploit, for a little schooner 
like the Sea Lion of Oyster Pond to take 
a hundred-barrel whale; and to send home 
its “‘ile,’’ as the deacon always pronounced 
the word, in common with most others in 


- old Suffolk. 


Long and anxious months, with one 
exception, succeeded this bright spot of 
sunshine in Mary Pratt’s solicitude in 
behalf of the absent Roswell. She knew 
there was but little chance of hearing 
from him until he returned north. The 
exception was a short letter that the 
deacon received, dated two weeks later 
than that written from Rio, in latitude 
forty-one, or just as far south of the 
equator as Oyster Pond was north of it, 
and nearly fourteen hundred miles to the 
southward of Rio. This letter was writ- 
ten in great haste, to send home by a 
Pacific trader who was accidentally met 
nearer the coast than was usual for such 
vessels to be. It stated that all was well ; 
that the schooner of Daggett was still in 
company ; and that Gardiner intended to 
get “shut” of her, as the deacon ex- 
pressed it, on the very first occasion. 

After the receipt of this letter, the 
third written by Roswell Gardiner since 
he left home, a long and blank inter- 
val of silence succeeded. Then it was 
that months passed away in an anxious 
and dark uncertainty. Spring followed 
winter, summer succeeded to spring, and 
alitumn came to reap the fruits of all the 
previous seasons, without bringing any 
further tidings of the adventurers. Then 
winter made its second appearance since 


95 


the Sea Lion had sailed, filling the minds 
of the mariner’s friends with sad fore- 
bodings as they listened to the moanings 
of the gales that accompanied that bleak 
and stormy quarter of the year. Deep 
and painful were the anticipations of the 
deacon, in whom failing health and a 
near approach to the “last of earth,”’ 
came to increase the gloom. As for 
Mary, youth and health - sustained her ; 
but her very soul was heavy, as she 
pondered on so long and _ uncertain 
an absence. | 


CHAPTER XIII. 


‘*Safely in harbor 
Js the king’s ship; in the deep nook, where once 
Thou calledst me up at midnight to fetch dew 
From the still vex’d Bermoothes, there she’s hid.” 
—TEMPEST. 


THE letter of Roswell Gardiner last 
received bore the date of December 10th, 
1819, or just a fortnight after he had 
sailed from Rio de Janeiro. We shall 
next present the schooner of Deacon 
Pratt to the reader on the 18th of that 
month, or three weeks and one day after 
she had sailed from the capital of Brazil. 
Early in the morning of the day last 
mentioned, the Sea Lion of Oyster Pond 
was visible standing to the northward, 
with the wind light, but freshening, from 
the westward, and in smooth water. 
Land was not only in sight, but was 
quite near, less than a league distant. 
Toward this land the head of the schooner 
had been laid, and she was approaching it 
at the rate of some four or. five knots. 
The land was broken, high, of a most. 
sterile aspect, where it was actually to be 
seen, and nearly all covered with a light 
but melting snow, though the season was 
advanced to the middle of the first month 
insummer. The weather was not very 
cold, however, and there was a feeling 
about it that promised it would become 
still milder. The aspect of the neighbor- 
ing land, so barren, rugged, and inhos- 
pitable, chilled the feeling, and gave to 
the scene a somber hue, which the weather 
itself might not have imparted. Directly 
ahead of the schooner rose a sort of pyr- 


96 


‘amid of broken rocks, which, occupying 
a small island, stood isolated in a measure, 
and some distance in advance of other 
and equally rugged ranges of mountains, 
which belonged ‘also to islands detached 
from the mainland thousands of years 
before, under some violent convulsions of 
nature. 

It was quite apparent that all on board 
the schooner regarded that ragged pyra- 
mid with lively’interest. Most of the 
crew were collected on the forecastle, in- 
cluding the officers, and all eyes were 
fastened on the ragged pyramid which 
they were diagonally approaching. The 
principal spokesman was Stimson, the 
oldest mariner on board, and one who had 
oftener visited those seas than any other 
of the crew. 

‘* You know the spot, do you, Stephen ? ”’ 
demanded Roswell Gardiner, with interest. 

“Yes, sir, there’s no mistake. That’s 
the Horn. Eleven times have I doubled 
it, and this is the third time that I’ve been 
so close in as to get a fair sight of it. 
Once I went inside, as I’ve told you, sir.”’ 

“JT have doubled it six times myself,’’ 
said Gardiner, “‘ but never saw it before. 
Most navigators give it a wide berth. 
"Tis said to be the stormiest spot on the 
known earth !’’ 

“That’s a mistake, you may depend 
on’t, sir. The sow-avesters blow great 
guns hereabouts, it is true enough; and 
when they do, sich a sea comes tum- 
bling in on that rock as man never seed 
anywhere else, perhaps; but, on the 
whull, I’d rather be close in here, than 
two hundred miles further to the south- 
ward. With the wind at sow-west and 
heavy, a better slant might be made from 
the southern position; but here I know 
where I am, and I’d go in and anchor, and 
wait for the gale to blow itself out.” 

“Talking of seas, Captain Gar’ner,”’ 
observed Hazard, ‘don’t you think, sir, 
we begin to feel the swell of the Pacific ? 
Smooth as the surface of the water is, 
here is a ground-swell rolling in that must 
be twelve or fifteen feet in height.’’ 

““There’s no doubt of that. We have 
felt the swell of the Pacific these two 
hours; no man can mistake that. The 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


Atlantic has no such waves. This is an 
ocean in reality, and this is its stormiest 
part. The wind freshens and hauls, and 
I’m afraid we are about to be caught close 
in here with a regular sow-west gale.’’ 

‘Let it come, sir, let it come,” put in 
Stimson, again; ‘‘if it does, we’ve only to 
run in and anchor. I can stand pilot, and 
I promise to carry the schooner where 
twenty sow-westers will do her no harm. 
What I’ve seen done once, I know can be 
done again. The time will come when the 
Horn will be a reg’ lar harbor.’’ 

Roswell left the forecastle and walked 
aft, pondering on what had just been said. 
His situation was delicate, and demanded 
decision as well as prudence. The manner 
in which Daggett had stuck by him ever 
since the two vessels took their departure 
from Block Island is known to the reader. 
The Sea Lions had sailed from Rio in 
company, and they had actually made 
Staten Land together, the day preceding 
that on which we now bring the Oyster 
Pond craft once more upon the scene, and 
had closed so near as to admit of a con- 
versation between the two masters. 

It would seem that Daggett was ex- 
ceedingly averse to passing through the 
Straits of Le Maire. An uncle of his 
had been wrecked there, and had reported 
the passage as the most dangerous one 
he had ever encountered. It has its 
difficulties, no doubt, in certain. states 
of the wind and tide; but Roswell had 
received good accounts of the place from 
Stimson, who had been through several 
times. The wind was rather scant 
to go through, and the weather threat- 
ened to be thick. As Daggett urged his 
reasons for keeping off and passing out- 
side of Staten Land, a circuit of con- 
siderable extent, besides bringing a ves- 
sel far to leeward with the prevalent 
winds of that region, which usually blow 
from northwest round to southwest, 
Roswell was reflecting on the opportu- 
nity the circumstances afforded of giving 
his consort the slip. After discussing 
the matter for some time, he desired 
Daggett to lead on and he would follow. 
This was done, though neither schooner 
was kept off until Roswell got a good 


THE SEA _ LIONS. 


view of Cape St. Diego, on Tierra del 
Fuego, thereby enabling him to judge 
of the positions of the principal land- 
marks. Without committing himself by 
any promise, therefore, he told Daggett 
to lead on, and for some time he followed, 
the course being one that did not take 
him much out of the way. The weather 
was misty, and at times the wind blew 
in squalls. The last increased as the 
schooners. drew nearer to Staten Land. 
Daggett, being about half a mile ahead, 
felt the full power of one particular 
squall that came out of the ravines with 
greater force than common, and he kept 
away to increase his distance from the 
land. At the same time, the mist shut in 
the vessels from each other. It was also 
past sunset, and a dark and dreary night 
was approaching. This latter fact had 
been one of Daggett’s arguments for 
going outside. 

Profiting by all these circumstances, 
Roswell tacked, and stood over toward 
Tierra del Fuego. He knew from the 
smoothness of the water that an ebb-tide 
was running, and trusted to its force to 
carry him through the straits. He saw 
no more of the Sea Lion of the Vineyard. 
She continued shut in by the mist until 
night closed around both vessels. When 
he got about mid-channel, Roswell tacked 
again. By this time the current had 
sucked him fairly into the passage, and 
no sooner did he go about than his move- 
ment to the southward was very rapid. 
The squalls gave some trouble, but on the 
whole, he did very well. Next morning 
he was off Cape Horn, as described. By 
this expression, it is generally understood 
that a vessel is somewhere near the longi- 
tude of that world-renowned cape, but not 
necessarily in sight of it. Few navigators 
actually see the extremity of the American 
continent, though they double the cape, it 
being usually deemed the safest to pass 
well to the southward. Such was Dag- 
gett’s position; who, in consequence of 
having gone outside of Staten Land, was 
now necessarily a long distance to lee- 
ward, and who could not hope to beat up 
abreast of the Hermits, even did the wind 
and sea favor him, in less than twenty- 

~IV.—4 ; 


97 


four hours. A great advantage was ob- 
tained by coming through the Straits of 
Le Maire, and Roswell felt very certain 
that he should not see his late consort 
again that day, even did he heave-to for 
him. But our hero had no idea of doing 
anything of the sort. Having shaken off 
his leech, he had no wish to suffer it to 
fasten to him again. It was solely with 
the intention of making sure of this object 
that he thought of making a harbor. 

In order that the reader may better 
understand those incidents of our narra- 
tive which we are about to relate, it may 
be well to say a word of the geographical 
features of the region to which he has 
been transported, in fiction, if not in fact. 
At the southern extremity of the Ameri- 
can continent is a cluster of islands, which 
are dark, sterile, rocky, and most of the 
year covered with snow. Evergreens re- 
lieve the aspect of sterility, in places that 
are a little sheltered, and there is a 
meager vegetation, in spots, that serves 
to sustain animal life. The first strait 
which separates this cluster of islands 
from the main, is that of Magellan, 
through which vessels occasionally pass, 
in preference to going farther south. 
Then comes Tierra del Fuego, which is 
much the largest of all the islands. To 
the southward of Tierra del Fuego lies a 
cluster of small islands, which bear differ- 
ent names; though the group farthest 
south of all, and which it is usual to con- 
sider as the southern termination of our 
noble continent, but which is not on a 
continent atall, is known by the appro- 
priate appellation of the Hermits. If sol- 
itude, and desolation, and want, and a 
contemplation of some of the sublimest 
features of this earth, can render a spot 
fit for a hermitage, these islands are very 
judiciously named. The one that is far. 
thest south contains the cape itself, which 
is marked by the ragged pyramid of 
rock already mentioned ; placed there by 
nature, a never-tiring sentinel of the war 
of the elements. 

Behind this cluster of the Hermits it 
was that Stimson advised his officer to 
take refuge against the approaching gale, 
of which the signs were now becoming ob- 


98 WORKS OF 


vious and certain. Roswell’s motive, how- 
ever, for listening to such advice, was less 
to find a shelter for his schooner than to 
get rid of Daggett. Forthe gale he cared 
but little, since he was a long way from 
the ice, and could stretch off the land to 
the southward into a waste of waters that 
seems interminable. There are islands to 
the southward of Cape Horn, and a good 
many of them too, though none very near. 
It is now known, also, by means of the 
toils and courage of various seamen, in- 
cluding those of the persevering and la- 
borious Wilkes, ever the most industrious 
and the least rewarded of all the naviga- 
tors who have ever worked for the human 
race in this dangerous and exhausting oc- 
cupation, that a continent is there also ; 
but, at the period of which we are writing, 
the existence of the Shetlands and Palm- 
er’s Land was the extent of the later dis- 
coveries in that part of the ocean. After 
pacing the quarter-deck a few minutes, 
when he quitted the forecastle as men- 
tioned, Roswell Gardiner again went for- 
ward among the men. 

‘* You are quite sure that this high peak 
is the Horn, Stimson?’ he observed, in- 
quiringly. 

«‘Sartin of it, sir. There’s no mistaking 
sich a place, which, once seen, is never 
forgotten.’ 

“Tt agrees with the charts and our 
reckoning, and I may say it agrees with 
our eyes also. Here is the Pacific Ocean 
plain enough, Mr. Hazard.”’ 

‘¢So I think, sir. We are at the end of 
Ameriky, if it has an end anywhere. This 
heavy long swell is an old acquaintance, 
though I never was in close enough to see 
the land, hereabouts, before.’’ 

‘It is fortunate we have one trusty 
hand on board who can stand pilot. Stim- 
son, I intend to go in and anchor, and I 
shall trust to you to carry me into a snug 
berth.”’ 

“T’ll do it, Captain Gar’ner, if the 
weather will permit it,’’ returned the sea- 
man, with an unpretending sort of confi- 
dence that spoke well for his ability. 

Preparations were now commenced in 
earnest to come to. It was time that 
some steady course should be adopted, as 


FENIMORE COOPER. 


the wind was getting up, and the schooner 
was rapidly approaching the land. In half 
an hour the Sea Zion was bending to a 
little gale, with her canvas reduced to 
close-reefed mainsail and foresail, and the 
bonnet off her jib. The sea was fast get- 
ting up, though it came in long, and 
mountain-like. Roswell dreaded the mist. 
Could he pass through the narrow chan- 
nels that Stimson had described to him, 
with a clear sky, one half of his causes of 
anxiety would be removed. But the wind 
was not a clear one, and he felt that no 
time was to be lost. 

It required great nerve to approach a 
coast like that of Cape Horn in such 
weather. As the schooner got nearer to 
the real cape, the sight of the seas tum- 
bling in and breaking: on its ragged rock, 
and the hollow roaring sound they made, 
actually became terrific. To add to the 
awe inspired in the breast of even the 
most callous-minded man on board, came 
a doubt whether the schooner could wea- 
ther a certain point of rock, the western 
extremity of the island, after she had got 
so far into a bight as to render wearing 
questionable, if not impossible. Hvery 
one now looked grave and anxious. Should 
the schooner go ashore in such a place, a 
single minute would suffice to break her to 
pieces, and not a soul could expect to be 
saved. Roswell was exceedingly anxious, 
though he remained cool. 

<¢ The tides and eddies about these rocks, 
and in so high a latitude, sweep a vessel 
like chips,’? he said to his chief mate. 
‘‘We have been set in here by an eddy, 
and a terrible place it is.” ° 

«¢ All depends on our gear’s holding on, 
sir,’’ was the answer, “ with a little on 
Providence. Just watch the point ahead, 
Captain Gar’ner; though we are not actu- 
ally to leeward of it, see with what a drift 
we have drawn upon it! The manner ir 
which these seas roll in from the sow-west 
is terrific! No craft can go to windward 
against them.’’ 

This remark of Hazard’s was very just 
The seas that came down upon the cape 
resembled a rolling prairie in their out- — 
line. A single wave would extend a quar- 
ter of a mile from trough to trough, and 


THE 


as it passed beneath the schooner, lifting 
her high in the air, it really seemed as if 
the glancing water would sweep her away 
in its force. But human art had found 
_ the means to counteract even this impos- 
ing display of the power of nature. The 
little schooner rode over the billows like a 
duck, and when she sank between two of 
them, it was merely to rise again on a 
new summit, and breast the gale gallant- 
ly. It was the current that menaced the 
greatest danger ; for that, unseen except 
in its fruits, was clearly setting the little 
craft to leeward, and bodily toward the 
rocks. By this time our adventurers were 
so near to the land that they almost gave 
up hope itself. Cape Hatteras, and its 
much-talked-of danger, seemed a place of 
refuge compared to that in which our 
navigators now found themselves. Could 
the deepest bellowings of ten thousand 
bulls be united in a common roar, the 
noise would not have equaled that of 
the hollow sound which issued from a sea 
as it went into some cavern of the rocks. 
Then, the spray filled the air like driving 
rain, and there were minutes when the 
cape, though so frightfully near, was hid 
from view by the vapor. 

At this precise moment, the Sea Lion 
was less than a quarter of a mile to wind- 
ward of the point she was struggling to 
weather, and toward which she was driv- 
ing under a treble impetus; that of the 
wind, acting on her sails, and pressing 
her ahead at the rate of fully five knots, 
for the craft was kept a rap full; that of 
the eddy, or current, and that. of the roll- 
ing waters. No man spoke, for each 
person felt that the crisis was one in which 
silence was a sort of homage to the Deity. 
Some prayed privately, and all gazed on 
the low rocky point that it was indispen- 
sable to pass, to avoid destruction. There 
was one favorite circumstance ; the water 
was known to be deep, quite close to the 
iron-bound coast, and it was seldom that 
any danger existed that it was not visible 
to the eye. This Roswell knew from 
Stimson’s accounts, as well as from those 
of other mariners, and he saw that the 
fact was of the last importance to him. 


Should he be able to weather the point 


SHA LIONS. 


Y a? 


99 


ahead, that which terminated at the 
mouth of the passage that led within 
the Hermits, it was now certain it could 
be done only by going fearfully near the 
rocks. 

Roswell Gardiner took his station be- 
tween the knight-heads, beckoning to 
Stimson to come near him. At the same 
time, Hazard himself went to the helm. 

‘Do you remember this place ?’’ asked 
the young master of the old seaman. 

‘This is the spot, sir; and if we can 
round the rocky point ahead, I will take 
you to a safe anchorage. Our drift is 
awful, and we are in an eddy tide here, 
sin |: , 

“It is the eddy,’’? answered Roswell, 
calmly, ‘‘ though our drift is not trifling. 
This is getting frightfully near to that 
point !”’ 

‘* Hold on, sir—it’s our only chance ;— 
hold on, and we may rub and go.”’ 

“Tf we rub, we are lost; that is certain 
enough. Should we get by this first 
point, there is another a short distance 
beyond it, which must certainly fetch us 
up, I fear. See—it opens more, as we 
draw ahead.”’ 

Stimson saw the new danger, and fully 
appreciated it. He did not speak, how- 
ever; for, to own the truth, he now aban- 
doned all hope, and, being a piously-in- 
clined person, he was privately address- 
ing himself to God. Every man on board 
was fully aware of the character of this 
new danger, and all seemed to forget that 
of the nearest point of rock, toward which 
they were now wading with portentous 
speed. That point might be passed ; 
there was a little hope there ; but as to 
the point a quarter of a mile beyond, with 
the leeward set of the schooner, the most 
ignorant hand on board saw how unlikely 
it was that they should get by it. 

An imposing silence prevailed in the 
schooner, as she came abreast of the first 
rock. It was about fifty fathoms under 
the lee bow, and, as to that spot, all de- 
pended on the distance outward that the 
dangers thrust themselves. This it was 
impossible to see amid the chaos of waters 
produced by the collision between the 
waves and the land. Roswell fastened 


100 


his eyes on objects ahead, to note the rate 
of his leeward set, and, with a seaman’s 
quickness, he noted the first change. 

«« She feels the under-tow, Stephen,’’ he 
said, ina voice so compressed as to seem 
to come out of the depths of his chest, 
‘‘and is breasted up to windward ! ”’ 

‘What means that sudden luff, sir? 
Mr. Hazard must keep a good full, or we 
shall have no chance.”’ 

Gardiner looked aft, and saw that the 
mate was bearing the helm well up, as if 
he met with much resistance. The truth 
then flashed upon him, and he shouted 
out— 

«“ All’s well, boys! God be praised, we 
have caught the ebb-tide, under our lee 
bow ! ”’ 

These few words explained the reason 
of the change. Instead of setting to lee- 


ward, the schooner was now meeting a} 


powerful tide of some four or five knots, 
which hawsed her up to windward with 
irresistible force. As if conscious of the 
danger she was in, the tight little craft 
receded from the rocks as she shot ahead, 
and rounded the second point, which, a 
minute before, had appeared to be placed 
there purposely to destroy her. It was 
handsomely doubled, at the safe distance 
of a hundred fathoms. Roswell believed 
he might now beat his schooner off the 
land far enough to double the cape al- 
together, could he but keep her in that 
current. It. doubtless expended itself, 
however, a short distance in the offing, as 
its waters diffused themselves on the 
breast of the ocean; and it was this dif- 
fusion of the element that produced the 
eddy which had proved so nearly fatal. 

In ten minutes after striking the tide, 
the schooner opened the passage fairly, 
and was kept away to enter it. Notwith- 
standing it blew so heavily, the rate of 
sailing, by the land, did not exceed five 
knots. This was owing to the great 
strength of the tide, which sometimes 
rises and falls thirty feet, in high lati- 
tudes and narrow waters. Stimson now 
showed he was a man to be relied on. 
Conning the craft intelligently, he took 
her in behind the island on which the cape 
stands, luffed her up into a tiny cove, and 


WORKS OF FENIMORE 


COOPER. 


made a cast of the lead. There were fifty 
fathoms of water, with a bottom of mud. 
With the certainty that there was enough 
of the element to keep him clear of the 
ground at low water, and that his anchors 
would hold, Roswell made a flying moor, 
and veered out enough cable to render his | 
vessel secure. 

Here, then, was the Sea Lion of Oyster 
Pond, that craft which the reader had 
seen lying at Deacon Pratt’s wharf, only 
three short months before, safely anchored 
in a nook of the rocks behind Cape Horn. 
No navigator but a sealer would have 
dreamed of carrying his vessel into such 
a place, but it is a part of their calling to 
poke about in channels and passages where 
no one else has ever been. It was in this 
way that Stimson had learned to know 
where to find his present anchorage. The 
berth of the schooner was perfectly snug, 
and entirely land-locked. The tremendous 
swell that was rolling in on the outside, 
caused the waters to rise and fall a little 
within the passage, but there was no 
strain upon the cables in consequence. 
Neither did the rapid tides affect the 
craft, which lay in an eddy that merely 
kept her steady. The gale came howling 
over the Hermits, but was so much broken 
by the rocks as to do little more than 
whistle through the cordage and spars 
aloft. 

Three days, and asmany nights, did the 
gale from the south-west continue. The 
fourth day there was a change, the wind 
coming from the eastward. Roswell would 
now have gone out, had it not been for the 
apprehension of falling in with Daggett 
again. Having at length gotten rid of 
that pertinacious companion, it would have 
been an act of great weakness to throw 
himself blindly in his way once more. It 
was possible that Daggett might not sup- 
pose he had been eft intentionally, in 
which case he would be very apt to look 
for his lost consort in the vicinity of the © 
cape. As for the gale, it might, or it 
might not, have blown him to leeward. 
A good deal would depend on the currents 
and his distance to the southward. Near 
the land, Gardiner believed the currents 
favored a vessel doubling it, going west; 


THE SEA LIONS. 


and if Daggett was also aware of this fact, 
it might induce him to keep as near the 
spot as possible. | 

Time was very precious to our sealers, 
the season being so short in the high lati- 
tudes. Still, they were a little in advance 
of their calculations, having got off the 
Horn fully ten days sooner than they had 
hoped to be there. Nearly the whole 
summer was before them, and there was 
the possibility of their even being too soon 
for the loosening of the ice farther south. 
The wind was the strongest inducement 
to go out, for the point to which our ad- 
venturers were bound lay a considerable 
distance to the westward, and fair breezes 
were not to be neglected. Under all the 
circumstances, however, it was decided to 
remain within the passage one day longer, 
and this so much the more, because Hazard 


_ had discovered some signs of sea-elephants 


frequenting an island atno great distance. 
The boats were lowered accordingly, and 
the mate went in one direction, while the 
master pulled up to the rocks, and landed 
on the Hermit, or the island which should 
bear that name par excellence, being that 
in which the group terminates. 

Taking Stimson with him, to carry a 
glass, and armed with an old lance as 
a pike-pole, to aid his efforts, Roswell 
Gardiner now commenced the ascent of 
the pyramid already mentioned. It was 
ragged, and offered a thousand obstacles, 
but none that vigor and resolution could 
not overcome. After a few minutes of 
violent exertion, and by helping each other 
in difficult places, both Roswell and Stim- 
son succeeded in placing themselves on the 
summit of the elevation, which was an ir- 
regular peak. The height was consider- 
able, and gave an extended view of the 
adjacent islands, as well as of the gloomy 


_ and menacing ocean to the southward. 


> 


The earth, probably, does not contain a 
more remarkable sentinel than this pyra- 
mid on which our hero had now taken his 
station. There it stood, actually the Ul- 
tima Thule of this vast continent, or, what 
was much the same, so closely united to 
it as to seem a part of our own moiety of 


the globe, looking out on the broad ex- 


panse of waters. The eye saw, to the 


Ww 


101 


right, the Pacific ; in front was the South- 
ern, or Antarctic Ocean; and to the left 
was the great Atlantic. For several min- 
utes, both Roswell and Stephen sat mute, 
gazing on this grand spectacle. 

By turning their faces north, they be- 
held the highlands of Tierra del Fuego, 
of which many of the highest peaks were 
covered with snow. The pyramid on 
which they were, however, was no longer 
white with the congealed rain, but stood, 
stern and imposing, in its native brown. 


‘The outlines of all the rocks, and the 


Shores of the different islands, had an 
appearance of volcanic origin, though 
the rocks themselves told a somewhat 
different story. The last were princi- 
pally of trap formation. Cape pigeons, 
gulls, petrels, and albatross were wheeling 
about in the air, while the rollers that 
still came in on this noble sea-wall were 
really terrific. Distant thunder wants the 
hollow, bellowing sound that these waves 
made when brought in contact with the 
shores. Roswell fancied that it was like 
a groan of the mighty Pacific, at finding 
its progress suddenly checked. The spray 
continued to fly, and, much of the time, 
the air below his elevated seat was filled 
with vapor. 

AS soon as our young master had taken 
in the grandest features of this magnificent 
view, his eyes sought the Sea Lion of 
Martha’s Vineyard. There she was, sure 
enough, at a distance of only a couple of 
leagues, and apparantly standing directly 
for the Cape. Could it be possible that 
Daggett suspected his maneuver, and was 
coming in search of him, at the precise 
spot in which he had taken shelter? As 
respects the vessel, there was no question 
as to her character. From the elevation 
at which he was placed, Roswell, aided 
by the glass, had no difficulty in making 
her out, and in recognizing her rig, form, 
and character. Stimson also examined 
her, and knew her to be the schooner. 
On that vast and desolate sea she resem- 
bled a speck, but the art of man had 
enabled those she held to guide her safe- 
ly through the tempest, and bring her 
up to her goal, in a time that really 
seemed miraculous for the circumstances. 


102 


“Tf we had thought of it, Captain Gar’- 
ner,’’ said Stephen, ‘‘we might have 
brought up an ensign, and set it on these 
rocks, by way of letting the Vineyarders 
know where we are to be found. But we 
can always go out and meet them, should 
this wind stand.”’ 

‘Which is just what I have no intention 
of doing, Stephen. J came in here on pur- 
pose to get rid of that schooner.”’ 

«© You surprise me, sir! A consort is no 
bad thing, when a craft is a-sealin’ in a 
high latitude. The ice makes such ticklish 
times, that, for me, ’m always glad to 
know there is such a chance for taking a 
fellow off, should there happen to be a 
wrack.”’ 

<All that is very true, but there are 
reasons which may tell against it. I have 
heard of some islands where seals abound, 
and a consort is not quite so necessary to 
take them, as when one is wrecked.’’ 

‘‘That alters the case, Captain Gar’ner. 
Nobody is obliged to tell of his sealing 
station. I was aboard one of the very 
first craft that found out that the South 
Shetlands was a famous place for seals, 
and no one among us thought it necessary 
to tell it to the world. Some men are 
weak enough to put sich discoveries in the 
newspapers; but, for my part, I think it 
quite enough to put them into the log.”’ 

‘“‘That schooner must have the current 
with her, she comes down so fast. She’ll 
be abreast of the Horn in half an hour 
longer, Stephen. We will wait, and see 
what she would be at.”’ 

Gardiner’s prediction was true. In half 
an hour the Sea Lion of Holmes’s Hole 
glided past the rocky pyramid of the 
Horn, distant from it less than a mile. 
Had it been the object of her commander to 
pass into the Pacific, he might have done 
so with great apparent ease. Even with 
a southwest wind, that which blows fully 
half the time in those seas, it would have 
been in his power to lay past the islands, 
and soon get before it. A northeast 
course, with a little offing, will clear the 
islands, and when a vessel gets as far 
north as the mainland, it would take her 
off the coast. 

But Daggett had no intention of doing 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


anything of the sort. He was looking for 
his consort, which he had hoped to find 
somewhere near the cape. Disappointed 
in this expectation, after standing far 
enough west to make certain nothing was 
in sight in that quarter, he hauled up on 
an easy bowline, and stood to the south- 
ward. Roswell was right glad to see this, 
inasmuch as it denoted ignorance of the 
position of the islands he sought. They 
lay much farther to the westward; and 
no sooner was he sure of the course 
steered by the other schooner, than he 
hastened down to the boat, in order to 
get his own vessel under way, to profit by 
the breeze. 

Two hours later the Sea Lion of Oyster 
Pond glanced through the passage which 
led into the ocean, on an ebb-tide. By 
that time, the other vessel had disap- 
peared in the southern board; and Gar- 
diner came out upon the open waters 
again, boldly, and certain of his course. 
All sail was set, and the little craft shpped 
away from the land with the ease of an 
aquatic bird that is plying its web-feet. 
Studding-sails were set, and the pyramid 
of the Horn soon began to lower in the 
distance, as the schooner receded. When 
night closed over the rolling waters, it 
was no longer visible, the vessel having 
fairly entered the Antarctic Ocean, if any- 
thing north of the circle can properly so 
be termed. 


Es 


CHAPTER XIV. 


“ All gone! ’tis ours the goodly land—— 
Look round—the heritage behold! 
Go forth—upon the mountain stand ; 
Then, if you can, be cold.’’>—SPRAGUE. 


It was an enterprising and manly thing 
for a little vessel like the Sea Lion to 
steer with an undeviating course into the 
mysterious depths of the antarctic circle 
—mysterious, far more in that day, than 
at the present hour. But the American 
sealer rarely hesitates. He has very little 
science, few charts, and those oftener old 
than new, knows little of what is going on 
among the savans of the earth, though . 
his ear is ever open to the lore of men like 
himself, and he has his mind stored with 


THE SEA LIONS. 


pictures of islands and continents that 
would seem to have been formed for no 
other purpose than to meet the wants of 
the race of animals it is his business to 
pursue and to capture. Cape Horn and 
its vicinity have so long been frequented 
by this class of men, that they are at home 
among their islands, rocks, currents, and 
Sterility; but to the southward of the 
Horn itself, all seemed a waste. At the 
time of which we are writing, much less 
‘was known of the antarctic regions than is 
_known to-day ; and even now our knowl- 
edge is limited to a few dreary outlines, in 
which barrenness and ice compete for 
the mastery. Wilkes, and his competi- 
tors, have told us that a vast frozen con- 


tinent exists in that quarter of the globe ;. 


but even their daring and perseverence 
have not been able to determine more than 
the general fact. 

We should be giving an exaggerated 
and false idea of Roswell Gardiner’s char- 
acter, did we say that he steered into that 
great void of the southern ocean in a total 
indifference to his destination and objects. 
Very much the reverse was his state of 
mind, as he saw the highland of the cape 
sink, as it might be foot by foot, into the 
ocean, and then lost sight of it altogether. 
Although the weather was fine for the 
region, it was dark and menacing. Such, 
indeed, is usually the case in that portion 
of this globe, which appears to be the 
favorite region of the storms. Although 
the wind was no more than a good breeze, 
and the ocean was but little disturbed, 
there were those symptoms in the atmos- 
phere and in the long ground-swells that 
came rolling in from the southwest, that 
taught the mariner the cold lessons of 
caution. We believe that heavier gales of 
wind at sea are encountered in the warm 
than in the cold months; but there is 
something so genial in the air of the ocean 
during summer, and something so chilling 
and repulsive in the rival season, that most 
of us fancy that the currents of air corre- 
Spond in strength with the fall of the mer- 
cury. Roswell knew better than this, it 
is true; but he also fully understood where 
he was, and what he was about. As a 
sealer, he had several times penetrated as 


usual track of the sealers. 


103 


far south as the Ne Plus Ultra of Cook; 
but it had ever before been in subordinate 
situations. This was the first time in 
which he had had the responsibility of 
command thrown on himself, and it was 
no more than natural that he should feel 
the weight of this new burden. So long 
as the Sea Lion of the Vineyard was in 
sight, she had presented a center of inter- 
est and concern. To get rid of her had 
been his first care, and almost absorbing 
object; but, now that she seemed to be 
finally thrown out of his wake, there 
remained the momentous and closely ap- 
proaching difficulties of the main adven- 
ture directly before his eyes. Roswell, 
therefore, was thoughtful and grave, his 
countenance offering no bad reflection of 
the sober features of the atmosphere and 
the ocean. 

Although the season was that of sum- 
mer, and the weather was such as is 
deemed propitious in the neighborhood of 
Cape Horn, a feeling of uncertainty pre- 
vailed over every other sensation. To 
the southward a cold mistiness veiled the 
view, and every mile the schooner ad- 
vanced appeared like penetrating deeper 
and deeper into regions that Nature had 
hitherto withheld from the investigation 
of the mariner. Ice, and its dangers, 
were known to exist a few degrees far- 
ther in that direction; but islands also 
had been discovered, and turned to good 
account by the enterprise of the sealers. 

It was truly a great thing for the Sea 
Iaon of Oyster Pond to have thrown off 
her namesake of the Vineyard. It is true 
both vessels were still in the same sea, 
with a possibility of again meeting ; but 
Roswell Gardiner was steering onward 
toward a haven designated in degrees and 
minutes, while the other craft was most 
probably left to wander in uncertainty in 
that remote and stormy ocean. Our hero 
thought there was now very little likeli- 
hood of his again falling in with his late 
consort, and this so much the more, be- 
cause the islands he sought were not laid 
down in the vicinity of any other known 
land, and were consequently out of the 
This last cir- 
cumstance was fully appreciated by our 


104 


young navigator, and gave him confidence 
of possessing its treasures to himself, 
could he only find the place where Nature 
had hid them. 

When the sun went down in that vast 
waste of water which lies to the south- 
ward of this continent, the little Sea Lion 
had fairly lost sight of land, and was rid- 
ing over the long southwestern ground- 
swell like a gull that holds its way steadily 
toward its nest. For many hours her 
course had not varied half a point, being: 
as near as possible to south-southwest, 
which kept her a little off the wind. No 
sooner, however, did night come to shut 
in the view, than Roswell Gardiner went 
aft to the man at the helm, and ordered 
him to steer to the southward, as near as 
the breeze would conveniently allow. This 
was a material change in the direction of 
the vessel, and, should the present breeze 
stand, would probably place her, by the 
return of light, a good distance to the 
eastward of the point she would other- 
wise have reached. Hitherto it had been 
Roswell’s aim to drop his consort; but, 
now it was dark, and so much time had 
already passed and been improved since 
the other schooner was iast seen, he be- 
lieved he might venture to steer in the 
precise direction he desived to go. The 
season 1s so short in those seas that every 
hour is precious, and no more variation 
from a real object conld be permitted 
than circumstances itmperiously required. 
It was now generally understood that the 
craft was making the best of her way 
foward her destined sealing-ground. 

Independently of the discoveries of the 
regular explorers, a great deal of infor- 
mation has been obtained from the sealers 
themselves, within the present century, 
touching the antarctic seas. It is thought 
that many a headland, and various islands, 
that have contributed their shares in pro- 
curing the accolades for different Euro- 
pean navigators, were known to the 
adventurers from Stonington and other 
by-ports of this country, long before 
science ever laid its eyes upon them, or 
monarchs their swords on the shoulders of 
their secondary discoverers. 

That divers islands existed in this quar- 


od 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


ter of the ocean was a fact recognized in 
geography long before the Sea Lion was 
thought of; probably before her young 
master was actually born; but the know]l- 
edge generally possessed on the subject 
was meager and unsatisfactory. In par- 
ticular cases, nevertheless, this remark 
would not apply, there being at that mo- 
ment on board our little schooner several 
mariners, who had often visited the South 
Shetlands, New Georgia, Palmer’s Land, 
and other known places in those seas. 
Not one of them all, however, had ever 
heard of any island directly south of the 
present position of the schooner. 

No material change occurred during the 
night, or in the course of the succeeding 
day, the little Sea Lion industriously hold- 
ing her way toward the south pole; mak- 
ing very regularly her six knots each hour. 
By the time she was thirty-six hours from 
the Horn, Gardiner believed himself to be 
fully three degrees to the southward of it, 
and consequently some distance within the 
parallel of sixty degrees south. Palmer’s 
Land, with its neighboring islands, would 
have been near, had not the original course 
carried the schooner so far to the west- 
ward. As it was, no one could say what 
lay before them. 

The third day out the wind hauled, and 
it blew heavily from the northeast. This 
gave the adventurers a great run. The 
blink of ice was shortly seen, and soon 
after ice itself, drifting about in bergs. 
The floating hills were grand objects to 
the eye, rolling and wallowing in the seas; 
but they were much worn and melted by 
the wash of the ocean, and comparatively 
of greatly diminished size. It was now 
absolutely necessary to lose most of the 
hours of darkness, it being much too dan- 
gerous to run in the night. The great 
barrier of ice was known to be close at 
hand; and Cook’s ‘‘Ne Plus Ultra,” at 
that time the great boundary of antarctic 
navigation, was near the parallel of lati- 
tude to which the schooner had reached. 
The weather, however, continued very 
favorable, and after the blow from the 
northeast the wind came from the south, 
chill, and attended with fiurries of snow, 
but sufficiently steady and not so fresh as 


” 


THE SHA LIONS. 


to compel our adventurers to carry very 
_ short sail. 

The smoothness of the water would of 
itself have announced the vicinity of ice ; 
not only did Gardiner’s calculations tell 
him as much as this, but his eyes con- 
firmed their results. In the course of the 
fifth day out, on several occasions when 
the weather cleared a little, glimpses 
were had of the ice in long mount- 
ainous walls, resembling many of the 
ridges of the Alps, though moving heavi- 
ly under the heaving and setting of the 
‘restless waters. Dense fogs from time 
to time clouded the whole view, and the 
schooner was compelled more than once 
that day to heave-to, in order to avoid 
running on the sunken masses of ice, or 
fields, of which many of vast size now 
began to make their appearance. 

Notwithstanding the dangers that sur- 
rounded our adventurers, they were none 
of them so insensible to the sublime 
powers of Nature as to withhold their 
admiration from the many glorious ob- 
jects which that lone and wild scene pre- 
sented. The icebergs were of all the 
hues of the rainbow, as the sunlight 
gilded their summits or sides, or they 
were left shaded by the interposition of 
dark and murky clouds. There were in- 
stances when certain of the huge frozen 
masses even appeared to be quite black, 
in particular positions and under pecul- 
iar lights, while others at the same in- 
stant were gorgeous in their gleams of 
emerald and gold! 


The aquatic birds also had now become 


numerous again. Penguins were swim- 
ming about, filling the air with their dis- 
cordant cries, while there was literally 
no end of the cape-pigeons and _ petrels. 
Albatrosses, too, helped to make up the 
picture of animated nature, while whales 
were often heard blowing in the adjacent 
waters. Gardiner now saw many signs 
of the proximity of land, and began to 
hope he should yet actually discover the 
islands laid down on his chart, as their 
position had been given by Daggett. 

In that high latitude a degree of longi- 
tude is necessarily much shorter than 
when nearer to the middle of ourorb. On 


105 


the equator a degree of longitude meas- 


‘| ures, aS is known to most boarding-school 


young ladies, just sixty geographical, or 
Sixty-nine and a half English statute 
miles. But, as it is not known to most 
boarding-school young ladies, or is under- 
Stood by very few of them indeed, even 
when known, in the sixty-second degree 
of latitude, a degree of longitude measures 
but little more than thirty-two of those 
very miles. The solution of this seeming 
contradiction is so very simple that it 
may assist a certain class of our readers 
if we explain it, by telling them that it 
arises solely from the fact that these de- 
grees of longitude, which are placed sixty 
geographical miles asunder at the center 
or middle of the earth, converge toward 
the poles, where they all meet in a point. 
According to the best observations Ros- 
well Gardiner could obtain, he was just 
one of these short degrees of longitude, or 
two-and-thirty miles, to the westward of 
the parallel where he wished to be, when 
the wind came from the southward. The 
change was favorable, as it emboldened 
him to run nearer than he otherwise 
might have felt disposed to do, to the 
great barrier of ice which now formed a 
sort of weather-shore. Fortunately, the 
loose bergs and sunken masses had drifted 
off so far to the northward, that once 
within them the schooner had pretty plain 
sailing ; and Roswell, to lose none of the 
precious time of the season, ventured to 
run, though under very short canvas, the 
whole of the short night that succeeded. 
It is a great assistance to the navigation 
of those seas that, during the summer 
months, there is scarcely any night at all, 
giving the adventurer sufficient light by 
which to thread his way among the diffi- 
culties of his pathless journey. 

When the sun reappeared, on the morn- 
ing of the sixth day after he had left the 
Horn, Roswell Gardiner believed himself 
to be far enough west for his purposes. 
It now remained to get a whole degree 
farther to the south, which was a vast 
distance in those seas and in that direc- 
tion, and would carry him a long way to 
the southward of the ‘Ne Plus Ultra.’’ 
If there was any truth in Daggett, how- 


106 


ever, that mariner had been there; and | their craft gliding forward unimpeded by 
At the © 


the instructions of the owner rendered it 
incumbent on our young man to attempt 
to follow him. More than once, that 
morning, did our hero regret he had not 
entered into terms with the Vineyard 
men, that the effort might have been 
made in company. There was something 
so portentous in a lone vessel’s venturing 
within the ice, in so remote a region, that, 
to say the truth, Roswell. hesitated. But 
pride of profession, ambition, love of Mary, 
dread of the deacon, native resolution, and 
the hardihood produced by experience in 
dangers often encountered and escaped, 
nerved him to the undertaking. It must 
be attempted, or the voyage would be 
lost; and our young mariner now set 
about his task with a stern determination 
to achieve it. 

By this time the schooner had luffed up 
within a cable’s length of the ice, along 
the margin of which she was running un- 
der easy sail. Gardiner believed himself 
to be quite as far to the westward as was 
necessary, and his present object was to 
find an opening, by means of which he 
could enter among the floating chaos that 
was spread, far and wide, to windward. 
As the breeze was driving the drifting 
masses to the northward, they became 
loosened and more separated every mo- 
ment; and glad enough was Gardiner to 
discover, at length, a clear spot that 
seemed to favor his views. Without an 
instant’s delay, the sheets were fiattened 
in, a pull was taken on the braces, and 
away went the little Sea Lion into a pass- 
age that had a hundred-fold more real 
causes of terror thanthe Scylla and Cha- 
rybdis of old. 

One effect of the vicinity of ice, in ex- 
tensive fields, is to produce comparatively 
still water. It must blow a gale, and 
that over. a considerable extent of open 
sea, to produce much commotion among 
the fields and bergs, though that heaving 
and setting, which has been likened to 
the respiration: of some monster, and 


which seamen call the ‘‘ ground-swell,’’ is | 


never entirely wanting among the waters 
of an ocean. On the present occasion our 
adventurers were favored in this respect, 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


anything like opposing billows. 
end of four hours, the schooner, tacking 
and wearing when necessary, had worked 


her way to the southward and westward, ~ 


according to her master’s reckoning, 
some five-and-twenty miles. 
noon, and the atmosphere being unusually 
clear, though never without fog, Gardiner 
went aloft, to take a look for himself at 
the condition of things around him. 

To the northward, and along the very 
passage by which the vessel had sailed, 
the ice was closing, and it was far easier 
to go on than to return. To the east- 
ward, and toward the southeast in par- 
ticular, however, did Roswell Gardiner 
turn his longing eyes. Somewhere in 
that quarter of the ocean, and distant 


It was then 


= 


now less than ten leagues, did he expect — 


to find the islands of which he was in 
quest, if indeed they had any existence at 
all. In that direction there were many 


‘passages open among the ice, the latter 


being generally higher than in the par- 


ticular place to which the vessel had. 


reached. Once or twice, Roswell mistook 
the summits of some of these bergs for 
real mountains, when, owing to the man- 
ner in which the light fell upon them, or 
rather did not fall upon them directly, 
they appeared dark and earthy. Hach 


time, however, the sun’s rays soon came — 


to-undeceive him; and that which had so- 


lately been black and frowning, was, as — 


by the touch of magic, suddenly illumi- 
nated, and became bright and gorgeous, 
throwing out its emerald hues, or perhaps 
a virgin white, that filled the beholder 
with delight, even amid the terrors and 
dangers by which, in very truth, he was 
surrounded. The glorious Alps them- 
selves, those wonders of the earth, could 
scarcely compete in scenery with the 
views that Nature lavished, in that remote 
sea, on a seeming void. But the might 
and honor of God.were there, as well as 
beneath the equator. 

For one whole hour did Roswell Gar- 
diner remain in the cross-trees, having 
hailed the deck, and caused the schooner’s 
head to be turned to the southeast, press- 
ing her through the openings as near the 


THE SHA LIONS. 


wind as she could go. The atmosphere 
was never without fog, though the vapor 
drifted about, leaving large vacancies that 
were totally clear. One spot, in particu- 
lar, seemed to be a favorite resting-place 
for these low clouds, which just there ap- 
peared to light upon the face of the ocean 
itself. A wide field of ice, or, it were bet- 
ter to say, a broad belt of bergs, lay 
between this stationary cloud and the 
schooner, though the existence of the 
vapor early caught Roswell’s attention ; 
and during the hour he was aloft, conning 
the craft through a very intricate and 
ticklish channel, not a minute passed that 
the young man did not turn a look toward 
that veiled spot. He was in the act of 
placing a foot on the ratlin below him, to 
descend to the deck, when ‘he half-uncon- 
sciously turned to take a last glance at 
this distant and seemingly immovable ob- 
ject. Just then, the vapor, which had 
kept rolling and moving, like @ fluid in 
ebullition, while it still clung together, 
suddenly opened, and the bald head of a 
real mountain, a thousand feet high, came 
unexpectedly into the view! There could 
be no mistake; all was too plain to admit 
of a doubt. There, beyond all question, 
was land; and it was doubtless the most 
western of the islands described by the 
dying seaman. Everything corroborated 
this conclusion. The latitude and longi- 
tude were right, or nearly so, and the 
other circumstances went to confirm the 
conjecture, or conclusion. Daggett had 
said that one island, high, mountainous, 
ragged, and bleak, but of some size, lay 
the most westerly in the group, while 
several others were within a few miles of 
it. The last were lower, much smaller, 
and little more than naked rocks. One 
of these last, however, he insisted on it, 
was a volcano in activity, and that at in- 
tervals it emitted flames as well as a fierce 
heat. By his account, however, the party 
to which he belonged had never actually 
visited that voicanic caldron, being satis- 
fied with admiring its terrors from a 
distance. 

As to the existence of the land, Roswell 
got several pretty distinct and certain 
views, leaving no doubt of its character 


Ng 
107 


and position. There is a theory which 
tells us that the orb of day is surrounded 
by a luminous vapor, the source of heat 
and light, and that this vapor, being in 
constant motion, occasionally leaves the 
mass of the planet itself to be seen, form- 
ing what it is usual to term the ‘ spots 
on the sun.’’ Resembling this theory, the 
fogs of the antarctic seas rolled about the 
mountain now seen, withdrawing the cur- 
tain at times, and permitting a view of 
the striking and majestic object within. 
Well did that lone and nearly barren mass 
of earth and rock merit these appella- 
tions! The elevation has already been 
given; and a rock that is nearly perpen- 
dicular, rising out of the ocean for a thou- 
sand feet, is ever imposing and grand. 
This was rendered so much the more by 
its loneliness, its stable and stern position 
amid floating and moving mountains of 
ice, its brown sides and bold summit, the 
latter then recently whitened with a fall 
of pure snow, and its frowning and fixed 
aspect amid a scene that might otherwise 
be said to be ever in motion. 

Roswell Gardiner’s heart beat with de- 
light when assured of success in discover- 
ing this, the first great goal of his destina- 
tion. To reach it was now his all-absorbing 
desire. By this time the wind had got 
round to the southwest, and was blowing 
quite fresh, bringing him well to wind- 
ward of the mountain, but causing the 
icebergs to drift in toward the land, and 
placing an impassable barrier along its 
western shore. Our young man, however, 
remembered that Daggett had given the 
anchorage as on the northeastern side of 
the island, where, according to his state- | 
ments, a little haven would be found, in 
which a dozen craft might lie in security. 
To this quarter of the island Gardiner 
consequently endeavored to get. 

There was no opening. to the northward, 
but a pretty good channel was before the 
schooner to the southward of the group. 
In this direction, then, the Sea Lion was 
steered, and by eight bells (four im the 
afternoon) the southern point of the largest 
island was doubled. ‘The rest of the group 
were made, and to the infinite delight of 
all on board her, abundance of clear water 


108 


was found between the main island and 
its smaller neighbors. The bergs had 
grounded, apparently, as they drew near 
the group, leaving this large bay entirely 
free from ice, with the exception of a few 
small masses that were floating through 
it. These bodies, whether field or berg: 
were easily "avoided; and away the 
schooner went, with flowing sheets, into 
the large basin formed by the different 
members of the group. To render ‘“as- 
surance doubly sure,’’ as to the informa- 
tion of Daggett, the smoke of a volcano 
arose from a rock to the eastward, that 
appeared to be some three or four miles in 
circumference, and which stood on the 
eastern side of the great basin, or some 
four leagues from Sealer’s Land, as Dag- 
gett had at once named the principal 
island. This was, in fact, about the 
breadth of the main basin, which had 
two principal passages into it, the one 
from the south and the other from the 
northeast. 

Once within the islands, and reasonably 
clear of all ice, it was an easy thing for 
the schooner to run across the basin, or 
great bay, and reach the northeastern ex- 
tremity of Sealer’s Land. As the light 
would continue some hours longer, there 
being very little night in that high lati- 
tude in December, the month that corre- 
sponds to our June, Roswell caused a boat 
to be lowered and manned, when he pulled 
at once toward the spot where it struck 
him the haven must be found, if there 
were any such place at all. Everything 
turned out as it had been described by 
Daggett, and great was our young man’s 
satisfaction when he rowed into a cove 
that was little more than two hundred 
yards in diameter, and which was so com- 
pletely land-locked as not to feel the infiu- 
ence of any sea outside. In general, the 
great difficulty is to land on any of the 
antarctic rocks, the breakers and surf op- 
posing it; but in this spot the smallest 
boat could be laid with its bow on a beach 
of shingle, without the slightest risk of 
its being injured. The lead also an- 
nounced good anchorage in about eight 
fathoms of water. In a word, this little 
haven was one of those small basins that 


WORKS OF FENIMORE 


COOPER. 


so often occur in mountainous islands, 
where fragments of rocks appear to have 
fallen from the principal mass as it was 
forced upward out of the ocean, as if pur-. 
posely intended to meet the wants of 
mariners. 

Nor was the outer bay, or the large © 
basin formed by the entire group, by any 
means devoid of advantages to the navi- 
gator. From north to south this outer 
bay was at least six leagues in length, 
while its breadth could not much have 
fallen short of four. Of course it was 
much more exposed to the winds and 
waves than the little harbor proper, 
though Roswell was struck with the great 
advantages it offered in several essential 
particulars. It was almost clear of ice, 
while so much was floating about outside 
of the circle of islands; thus leaving a 
free navigation in it for even the smallest 
boat. This was mainly owing to the fact 
that the Jargest island had two long cres- 
cent-shaped capes, the one at its north- 
eastern and the other at its southeastern 
extremity, giving to its whole eastern 
side the shape of a new moon. The 
harbor just described was to the south- 
ward of, or within, the northeastern cape, 
which our young master at once named 
Cape Hazard, in honor of his chief mate’s 
vigilance; that officer having been the 
first to point out the facilities probably 
offered by the formation of the land for an 
anchorage. | 

Though rocky and broken, it was by no 
means difficult to ascend the rugged banks 
on the northern side of the harbor, and 
Gardiner went up it, attended by Stimson, 
who of late had much attached himself to 
the person of his commander. The height 
of this barrier above the waves of the 
ocean was but a little less than a hundred 
feet, and when the summit was reached, 
a common exclamation of surprise, not to 
say delight, broke from the lips of both. 
Hitherto not a seal of any sort had been 
seen, and Gardiner had felt some mis- 
givings touching the benefits that were to 
be derived from so much hardship, expos- 
ure, and enterprise. All doubts, however, 
vanished, the instant he got a sight of the 


northern shore of the island. This shore, 


THE SEA LIONS. 


a reach of several miles in extent, was 

fairly alive with the monsters of which he 
was in search. They lay in thousands on 
the low rocks.that lined that entire side 
of the island, basking in the sun of the 
antarctic seas. There they were, sure 
enough! Sea lions, sea elephants, huge, 
clumsy, fierce-looking and revolting creat- 
ures, belonging properly to neither sea 
nor land. These animals were constantly 
going and coming in crowds, some wad- 
dling to the margin of the rock and tum- 
bling into the ocean in search of food, 
while others scrambled out of the water, 
and got upon shelves and other convenient 
_ places to repose and enjoy the light of day. 
There was very little contention or fight- 
ing among these revolting-looking creat- 
ures, though nearly every known species 
of the larger seals was among them. 

‘¢ There is famous picking for us, Master 
Stephen,’’ said Roswell to his companion, 
fairly rubbing his hands in delight. ‘‘ One 
month’s smart work will fill the schooner 
and we can be off beyond the equinox. 
Does it not seem to you that yonder are 
the bones of sea lions, or of seals of some 
sort, lying hereaway, as if men had been 
at work on the creatures ? ”’ 

‘No doubt on’t at all, Captain Gar’- 
ner; as much out of the way as this island 
is—and I never heard of the place afore, 
old a sealer as I am—but, as much out of 
the way as it is, we are not the first to 
find it. Somebody has been here, and 
that within a year or two; and he has 
picked up a cargo, too, depend on’t.”’ 

As all this merely corresponded with 
Daggett’s account of the place, Roswell 
felt no surprise ; on the contrary, he saw 
in it a confirmation of all that Daggett 
had stated, and as furnishing so much the 
more reason to hope for a successful 
termination to the voyage in all its parts. 
While on the rocks Roswell took such a 
survey of the localities as might enable 
him to issue his orders hereafter with dis- 
cretion and intelligence. The schooner 
was already making short tacks to get 
close in with the island, in obedience to a 
signal to that effect; and the second mate 
had pulled out to the entrance of the little 
haven, with a view to act as pilot. Before 


109 


the captain had descended from the sum- 
mit of the northern barrier, the vessel 
came in under her jib, the wind being 
nearly aft, and she dropped two anchors 
in suitable spots, making another flying 
moor of it. 

General joy now illuminated every face. 
It was, in itself, a great point gained to 
get the schooner into a_ perfectly safe 
haven, where her people could take their 
natural rest at night, or during their 
watches below, without feeling any appre- 
hension of being crushed in theice; but 
here was not only security, but the source 
of that wealth of which they were in quest, 
and which had induced them all to en- 
counter so many privations and so much 
danger. The crew landed to a man, each 
individual ascending to the summit of the 
barrier, to feast his eyes on the spectacle 
that lay spread insuch affluent abundance 
along the low rocks of the northern side 
of the island. 

As there were yet several hours of light 
remaining, Roswell, stillattended by Stim- 
son, each armed with a sealing-spear or 
lance, not only as a weapon of defense, 
but as a leaping-staff, set out to climb as 
high up the central acclivity of the island 
as circumstances would allow him to go. 
He was deceived in the distance, however, 
and soon found that an entire day would 
be necessary to achieve such an enterprise, 
could it be performed at all; but he did 
succeed in reaching a low spur of the 
central mountain that commanded a wide 
and noble view of all that lay to the north 
and east of it. From this height, which 
must have been a few hundred feet above 
the level of the ocean, our adventurers got 
a still better view of the whole north coast, 
or of what might have been called the 
sealing quarter of the island. They also 
got a tolerably accurate idea of the gen- 
eral formation of that lone fragment of 
rock and earth, as well as of the islets and 
islands that lay in its vicinity. 

The outline of the first was that of a 
rude, and of course an irregular triangle, 
the three principal points of which were 
the two low capes already mentioned, and 
a third that lay to the northward and 
westward. The whole of the western or 


110 


southwestern shore seemed to be a nearly 
perpendicular wall of rock, that, in the 
main, rose some two or three hundred 
feet above the ocean. Against this side 
of the island, in particular, the waves of 
the ocean were sullenly beating, while 
the ice drove up “‘home,’’ as sailors ex- 
press it; showing a vast depth of water. 
On the two other sides it was different. 
The winds prevailed most from the south- 
west, which rendered the perpendicular 
face of the island its weather wall; while 
the two other sides of the triangle were 
more favored by position. The north side, 
of course, lay most exposed to the sun, 
everything of this nature being reversed 
in the southern hemisphere from what we 
have it in the northern; while the eastern, 
or northeastern side, to be precisely ac- 
curate, was protected by the group of 
islands that lay in its front. Such was 
the general character of Sealer’s Land, 
so far as the hurried observations of its 
present master enabled him to ascertain. 
The near approach of night induced him 
now to hasten to get off of the somewhat 
dangerous acclivities to which he had 
climbed, and to rejoin his people and his 
schooner. 


CHAPTER XV. 


** Ye dart upon the deep, and straight is heard 
A wilder roar; and men grow pale, and pray: 
Ye fling its waters round you, as a bird 
Flings o’er his shivering plumes the fountain’s 
spray. 
See ! to the breaking masts the sailor clings! 
Ye scoop the ocean to its briny springs, 
And take the mountain billows on your wings, 
And pile the wreck of‘navies round the bay.” 
—BRYANT’S WINDS. 


No unnecessary delay was permitted to 
interfere with the one great purpose of 
the sealers. The season was so short, 
and the difficulties and dangers of enter- 
ing among and of quitting the ice were so 
very serious, that every soul belonging to 
the schooner felt the importance of activ- 
ity and industry. The very day that 
succeeded the vessel’s arrival, not only 
was great progress made in the prelimi- 
nary arrangements, but a goodly number 
of fur-seals, of excellent quality, were act- 


on the rocks. 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


ually killed and secured. Two noble sea- 
elephants were also lanced, animals that 
measured near thirty feet in length, each 
of which yielded a very ample return for 
the risk and trouble of taking it, in oil. 
The skins of the fur-seals, however, were 
Roswell’s principal object; and glad 
enough was he to find the creature that 
pays this tribute to the wants and luxu- 
ries of man, in numbers sufficient to prom- 
ise him a speedy return tog the northward. 
While the slaughter, and skinning, and 
curing, and trying out, were all in active 
operation, our young man paid some at- 
tention to certain minor arrangements, 
which had a direct bearing on the comforts 
of his people, as well as the getting in of 
cargo. 

An old storehouse, of respectable size, 
had stood on the deacon’s wharf, while 
the schooner was fitting out, but it had 
been taken to pieces, in order to make 
room for a more eligible substitute. The 
materials of this building Roswell Gardi- 
ner had persuaded his owner to send on 
board, and they had all been received and 
stowed away, a part below and a part on 
deck, as a provision for the possible wants 
of the people. As it was necessary to 
clear the decks and break out the hold, all 
these materials, consisting principally of 
the timbers of the frame, the siding? and 
a quantity of planks and boards, were now 
floated ashore in the cove, and hauled up 
Roswell took a leisure mo- 
ment to select a place for the site of his 
building, which he intended to erect at 
once, in order to save the time that would 
otherwise be lost in pulling between the 
schooner and the shore. 

It was not difficult to find the sort of 
spot that was desirable for the dwelling. 
That chosen by Gardiner was a shelf of 
rock of sufficient extent, that lay perfect- 
ly exposed to the north and northeast, or 
to the sunny side of the island, while it 
was sheltered from the south and south- 
west by masses of rock, that formed a 
complete protection against the colder 
winds of the region. These walls of stone, 
however, were not sufficiently near.to per- 
mit any snows they might collect to im- 
pend over the building, but enough space 


time. 


THE SEA LIONS. 


was left between them and the house, to 
admit of a capacious yard, in which might 
be placed any articles that were necessary 
to the ordinary work, or to the wants of 
the sealers. 

Had it been advisable to set all hands 
at the business of slaughtering, Roswell 
Gardiner certainly would not have lost 
the time he did, in the erection of his 
house. But our master was a judicious 
and wary commander at his calling. The 
seals were now perfectly tame, and noth- 
ing was easier than to kill them in scores. 
The great difficulty was in removing the 
spoils across the rocks, as it was some- 
times necessary to do so for a distance of 
several miles. Means were found, in the 
end, to use the boats on this service, 
though even then, at midsummer, the 
northern shore of the island was fre- 
quently so closely beset by the ice as com- 
pletely to block up the passage. This, 
too, occurred at times when the larger 
bay was nearly free, and the cove, which 
went by the name of the ‘‘Deacon’s 
Bight’? among the men, was entirely so. 
In order to prevent a premature panic 
among the victims of this intended foray, 
then, Gardiner allowed no one to go out 
to ‘‘kill’’ but the experienced hands, and 
no more to be slain each day than could 
be skinned or cut up at that particular 
In consequence of this prudent 
* caution, the work soon got into a regular 
train; and it was early found that more 
was done in this-mode, than could have 
been effected by a less guarded assault on 
the seals. 

As for the materials of the building, 
they were hauled up the rocks without 
much difficulty. The frame was of some 
size, as is the case generally with most 
old constructions in America; but being 
of pine, thoroughly seasoned, the sills and 
plates were not so heavy but that they 
might be readily enough handled by the 
non-sealing portion of the crew. Robert 
Smith, the landsman, was a carpenter by 
trade, and it fell to his lot to put together 
again the materials of the old warehouse. 
Had there not been such a mechanic 
among the crew, however, a dozen Amer- 
icans could, at any time, construct a 


‘that festival. 


111 


house, the ‘“‘ rough and ready ”’ habits of 


the people usually teaching them, in a 


rude way, a good deal of a great many 
other arts, besides this of the carpenter. 
Mott had served a part of his time with a 
blacksmith, and he now set up his forge. 
When the frame was ready, all hands as- 
sembled to assist in raising it; and, by 
the end of the first week, the building was 
actually inclosed, the labor amounting to 
no more than putting each portion in its 
place and securing it there, the saw being 
scarcely used during the whole process. 
This building had two apartments, one of 
which Gardiner appropriated to the uses 
of a sitting-room, and the other to that of 
a dormitory. Rough bunks were con- 
structed, and the mattresses of the men 
were all brought ashore and put in the 
house. It was intended that everybody 
should sleep in the building, as it would 
save a great deal of going to and fro, as 
well asa great deal of time. The cargo 
was to be collected on a shelf of rock, that 
fay about twenty feet below that on which 
the building stood ; by following which, it 
was possible to turn the highest point of 
the pass, that which formed the southern 
protection of the building, and come out: 
on the side of the cove at another shelf, 
that was not more than fifty feet above 
the level of the vessel’s decks. Down this 
last declivity, Roswell proposed to lower 
his casks by means of a projecting derrick, 
the rock being sufficiently precipitous to 
admit of this arrangement, while his spare 
spars furnished him with the necessary 
means. Thus was every preparation 
made with judgment and foresight. 

In this manner did the first ten days 
pass, every manand boy being as busy as 
bees. To own the truth, no attention was 
paid to the Sabbath, which wouid seem to 
have been left behind them by the people, 
among the descendants of those Puritans 
who were so rigid in their observance of 
At the end of the time just 
mentioned, a great deal had been done. © 
The house, such as it was, was completed. 
To be sure, it was nothing but an old 
storehouse revamped, but it was found to 
be of infinite service, and greatly did all 
hands felicitate themselves at having 


112 


brought its materials along with them. 
Even those who had most complained of 
the labor of getting the timbers on board, 
had the most often cursed them for being 
in the way during the passage, and had 
continued the loudest to deride the idea of 
*“sealers turning carpenters,’’ were shortly 
willing to allow that the possession of this 
dwelling was of the greatest value to them, 
and that, so far from the extra work’s 
causing them to fall behind in their main 
operations, the comfort they found, in 
having a home like this to go to, after a 
long day’s toil, refreshed them toa degree 
which enabled every man to return to his 
labor with a zeal and an energy that 
might otherwise have been wanting. 
Although it was in the warmest season 
of the year, and the nights could scarcely 
be called nights at all, yet the sun never 
got very low without leaving a chilliness 
in the air that would have rendered sleep- 
ing without a cover and a protection from 
the winds not only excessively uncomfort- 
able, but somewhat dangerous. Indeed, 
it was often found necessary to light a 
fire in the old warehouse. This was done 
by means of a capacious box-stove, that 
was almost as old as the building itself, 
and which had also been brought along 
as an article of great necessity in that 
climate. Fuel could not be wanting, so 
long as the “scraps ’’ from the try-works 
abounded, and there were many more of 
these than were needed to ‘try out ’’ the 
sea elephant oil. The Schooner, however, 
had a very ample supply of wood to burn, 
that being an article which abounded on 
Shelter Island, and which the deacon had 
consented to lay in, in some abundance. 
Gardiner got this concession out of the 
miserly temperament of the old man, by 
persuading him that a sealer could not 
work to any advantage unless he had the 
means of occasionally warming himself. 
The miserly propensities of the deacon 
were not so engrossing that he did not 
comprehend the wisdom of making suffi- 
cient outlay to secure the execution of his 
main object; and among other things of 
this nature, the schooner had sailed with 
a very large supply of wood, as has just 
heen stated. Wood and onions, indeed, 


WORKS OF FENIMORE OOOPER. 


were more abundant in her than any other 
stores. 

The arrangements described were com- 
pleted by the end of the first fortnight, 
during which period the business of seal- 
ing was also carried on with great indus- 
try and success. So very tame were the 
victims, and so totally unconscious of the 
danger they incurred from the presence of 
man, that the crew moved round among 
them, seemingly but very little observed, 
and not at all molested. The utmost care 
was taken to give no unnecessary alarm ; 
and when an animal was lanced, it was 
done in such a quiet way as to produce as 
little commotion as possible. By the end 
of the time named, however, the sealing 
had got so advanced as to require the aid 
of all hands in securing the spoils. To 
work, then, everybody went, witha hearty 
good-will; and the shelf of rock just below 
the house was soon well garnished with 
casks and skins. Had the labor been 
limited to the mere killing, and skinning, 
and curing, and barreling of oil, it would 
have been comparatively quite light; but — 
the necessity of transporting the fruits of 
all this skill and and luck considerable 
distances, in some cases several miles, and 
this over broken rocks, formed the great 
obstacle to immediate success. It was the 
opinion of Roswell Gardiner, that he could 
have filled his schooner in a month, were 
it possible to place her directly alongside 
of the rocks frequented by the seals, and 
prevent all this toil in transporting. This, 
however, was impossible, the waves and 
the ice rendering it certain destruction to 
lay a craft anywhere along the northern 
Shore of the island. The boats might be, 
and occasionally they were used, bringing 
loads of skin and oil round the cape, quite 
into the cove. These little cargoes were 
immediately transferred to the hold of the 
Schooner, a ground tier of large casks hav- 
ing been left in her purposely to receive 
the oil, which was emptied into them by 
means of a hose. By the end of the third 
week, this ground tier was filled, and the 
craft became stiff, and was in good bal- 
last trim, although the Spare water was 
now entirely pumped out of her. . 

All this time the weather was very fair 


THE SEA LIONS. 


for so high a latitude, and every way 
propitious. The twenty-third day after 
the schooner got in, Roswell was stand- 
ing on a spur of the hill, at no great dis- 
tance from the house, overlooking the 
long reach of rocky coast over which 
the ‘‘sea-elephants,’’ and ‘“‘lions,’’? and 
‘dogs,’ and ‘‘ bears,’’ were waddling in 
as much seeming security as the hour 
when he first saw them. The sun was 
just rising, and the seals were clam- 
bering up out of the water to enjoy its 
warm rays, as they placed themselves in 
positions favorable to such a purpose. 

“That is a pleasant sight to a true 
sealer, Captain Gar’ner,’’ observed Stim- 
son, who as usual had kept near his 
officer, ‘‘and one that I can say I never 
before saw equaled. I’ve been in this 
business now some five-and-twenty years, 

and never before have I met with so safe 
a harbor for a craft, and so large herds 
that have not been stirred up and got to 
be skeary.”’ 

_ We have certainly been very fort- 
unate thus far, Stephen, and I am now in 
hopes we may fill up and be off in good 
season to get clear of the ice,’’ returned 
Roswell. ‘‘ Our luck has been surprising, 
all things considered.’’ 

“You call it luck, Captain Gar’ner ; 
but in my creed, there is a truer and bet- 
ter word for it, sir.’’ 

‘© Ay, I know well enough what you 
mean, Stephen; though I cannot fancy 
that Providence cares much whether we 
shall take a hundred seals to-day, or none 
at all.’’ 

*«Such is not my idee, sir; and I’m not 
ashamed to own it. In my humble way 
of thinking, Captain Gar’ner, the finger 
of Divine Providence is in all that comes 
to pass; if not straight ahead like, as a 
body would receive a fall, still, by sartain 
laws that bring about everything that is to 
happen, just as it does happen. I believe 
now, sir, that Providence does not intend 
we shall take any seals at all to-day, sir.’’ 

““Why not, Stimson? It is the very 
finest day we have had since we have been 
on the island.”’ 

“That’s true enough; and it is this 
glorious sunny day, glorious and sunny 


113 


for sich a high latitude, that makes me 
feel and think that this day was not in- 
tended for work. You probably forget it 
is the Sabbath, Captain Gar’ner ! ”’ 

‘‘Sure enough; I had forgotten that, 
Stephen ; but we sealers seldom lie by for 
such a reason.’’ 

“‘So much the worse for us sealers, 
then, sir. This is my seventeenth v’y’ge 
into these seas, sir, and I will say that 
more of them have been made with officers 
and crews that did not keep the Sabbath, 
than with officers and crews that did. 
Still, I have obsarved one thing, sir, that 
the man who takes his rest one day in 
seven, and freshens his mind, as it might 
be, with thinking of other matters than 
his every-day consarns, comes to his task 
with so much better will, when he does 
set about it, as to turn off greater profit 
than if he worked night and day, Sundays 
and all.’’ 

Roswell Gardiner had no great rever- 
ence for the Christian Sabbath, and this 
more because it was so called, than for 
any sufficient reason in itself. Pride of 
reason rendered him jealous of everything 
like a concession to the faith of those who 
believed in the Son of God; and he was 
very apt to dissent from all admission 
that had even the most remote bearing 
on its truth. Still, as a kind-hearted 
commander, as well as a judicious reason- 
er on the economy of his fellow-creatures, 
he fully felt the policy of granting relax- 
ation to labor. Nor was he indisposed to 
believe in the care of a Divine Providence, 
or in its justice, though less believing in 
this respect than the illiterate but earnest- 
minded seaman who stood at his side. 
He knew very well that ‘‘all work, and 
no play, makes Jack a dull boy; ”’ 
understood well enough that it was good 
for a man, at stated seasons, to raise his 
mind from the cares and business of this 
world, to muse on those of the world that 
is to come. Though inclined to Deism, 
Roswell worshiped in his heart the Cre- 
ator of all he saw and understood, as well 
as much that he could neither scan nor 
comprehend. 

‘‘This is not the seaman’s usual way of 
thinking,’’ returned our hero, after re- 


and he © 


114 WORKS 
garding his companion for a moment, a 
little intently. ‘‘ With us, there is very 
little Sabbath in blue water.’’ 

‘Too little, sir; much too little. De- 
pend on’t, Captain Gar’ner, God is on the 
face of the waters as well as on the hill- 
tops. His Spirit is everywhere; and it 
must grieve it to see human beings, that 
have been created in his image, so bent on 
gain as to set apart no time even for rest ; 
much less for his worship and praise ! ”’ 

“Tam not certain you are wrong, Stim- 
son, and I feel much more sure that you 
are right as a political economist than in 
your religion. There should be seasons 
of rest and reflection—yet I greatly dis- 
like losing a day as fine as this.” 

‘“«The better the day, the better the 
deed,’ sir. No time is lost to him who 
stops in his work to think a little of his 
God. Our crew is used to having a Sab- 
bath ; and though we work on lays, there 
is not a hand aboard us, Captain Gar’ner, 
who would not be glad to hear the word 
pass among ’em which should say this is 
the Lord’s day, and you’ve to knock off 
your labor.”’ 

‘As I believe you understand the peo- 
ple, Stephen, and we have had a busy 
time of it since we got in, I’ll take you at 
your word, and give the order. Go and 
tell Mr. Hazard there’ll be no duty carried 
on to-day beyond what is indispensable. 
It is Sunday, and we’ll make ita day of 
rest.’ 

Truth compels us to say that Roswell 
was quite as much influenced in giving 
this order, by recollecting the pleasure it 
would give Mary, as by any higher con- 
sideration. 

Glad enough was Stimson to hear this 
order, and away he hastened to find the 
mate, that it might at once be communi- 
cated to the men. Although this well- 
disposed seaman a little overrated the 
motives of a portion of the crew at least, 
he was right enough as to the manner in 
which they would receive the new regula- 
tion. Rest and relaxation had become, in 
a measure, necessary to them; and leisure 
was also needed to enable the people to 
clean themselves ; the business in which 
they had been engaged being one that ac- 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


cumulates oily substances, and requiring 
occasional purifications of the body in 


order to preserve the health. The scurvy, 


that great curse of long voyages, is as 
much owing to neglect of cleanliness as 
to diet. | 

No sooner was it known that this day 
was to be treated as the Sabbath, than 
soap, razors, scissors, and all the usual 
appliances of the sailor’s toilet, were 
drawn out of bags and chests, and 
paraded about on the rocks. An hour 
passed in scrubbing, shaving, cutting 
hair, holding garments up to the light 
to look for holes and ascertain their con- 
dition, and rummaging among ** prop- 
erties,’ as the player would term the 
different wardrobes that were thus 
brought into view. The mates came out 
of the mélée ‘‘shaved and shorn,” as well 
as neatly attired; and there was not a 
man on the island who did not look like 
a different being from what he had ap- 
peared an hour before, in consequence 
of this pause in the regular business of 
sealing, and the promised holiday. A 
strict order was given that no one should 
go among the seals, as it was feared 
that some indiscretion or other might 
have a tendency to create an alarm. 
In all other respects the island was placed 
at the disposal of the men, if anything 
could be made of such a lone spot, a speck 
on the surface of the antarctic seas, and 
nearly encircled by mountains of floating 
ice. 

As for Roswell himself, after reading a 
chapter or two in Mary Pratt’s Bible, he 
determined to make another effort to 
ascend to the summit of the sterile 
rocks which capped the pile that rose 
vertically in the center of the island. The — 
day was nearly all before him ; and, sum- 
moning Stimson as a companion, for he 
had taken a great fancy to this man, 
away he went, young, active, and full of 
buoyancy. Almost at the same instant, 
Hazard, the chief mate, pulled out of the — 
cove in one of the whale-boats, manned 
by volunteers, and provided with sails, 
with an intention to cross the Great Bay,. 
and get a nearer view of the volcanic hill, 
out of which smoke was constantly pour- J 


THE 


- ing, and occasionally flames. The second 
mate and one or two of the hands re- 
mained near the house, to keep a lookout 
on the vessel and other property. 

The season had now advanced tc the 
first day of January, a month that in the 
southern hemisphere corresponds with our 
own July. As Roswell picked his way 
among the broken rocks that covered the 
ascent to what might be termed the table- 
land of the island, if indeed any portion of 
soragged a bit of this earth could prop- 
erly be so named, his thoughts recurred 
to this question of the season, and to the 
probability of his getting a cargo before it 
would be absolutely necessary to go to the 
northward. On the whole, he fancied his 
chances good; and such he found to be 
Stimson’s opinion, when this experienced 
sealer was questioned on the subject. 

“We've begun right in all respects but 
one, Captain Gar’ner,’’ said Stephen, as 
he closed his remarks on the subject ; 
“and even in that matter, in which we 
made a small mistake at the outset, we 
are improving, and I hope will come out 
right in the end. I said a small mistake, 
but in this I’m wrong, as it was a great 
mistake.”’ 

«* And what was it, Stephen? Make no 
bones of telling me of any blunder I may 
have committed, according to your views 
of duty. You are so much older than 
myself, that I’ll stand it.’’ 

«© Why, sir, it’s not in seamanship, or in 
sealing ; if it was, ’'d hold my tongue; 
but it’s in not keeping the Lord’s day 
from the hour when we lifted our anchor 
in that bay that bears the name of your 
family, Captain Gar’ner; and which 
ought to be, and I make no doubt 7s, 
dear to you on that account, if for no 
other reason. I rather think, from what 
they tell me, that the old Lord Gar’ner of 
allhad much preaching of the word, and 
much praying to the Lord, in the old 
times, when he lived there.”’ 

‘There never was any Lord Gardiner 
among us,’’ returned Roswell modestly, 
“though it was a fashion among the 
EKast-enders to give that title to the owner 
of the island. My ancestor who first got 
the place was Lyon Gardiner, an engineer 


SHA LIONS. 


Y15 


in the service of the colony of Connec- 
ticut.”’ 

“Well, whether he was a lion or a 
lamb, I’ll answer for it the Lord was not 
forgotten on that island, Captain Gar’- 
ner, and he shouldn’t be onthis. No man 
ever lost anything in this world, or in that 
which is to come a’ter it, by remembering 
once in seven days to call on his Creator 
to help him on his path. [ve heard it 
said, sir, that you’re a little partic’lar 
like in your ideas of religion, and that 
you do not altogether hold to the doc- 
trines that are preached up and down the 
land.’’ 

Roswell felt his cheeks warm at this re- 
mark, and he thought of Mary, and of 
her meek reliance on that Saviour whom, 
in the pride of his youth, strength, and, 
as he fancied, of his reason also, he 
doubted about, as being the Son of God. 
The picture thus presented to his mind 
had its pleasant and its unpleasant feat- 
ures. Strange as it may seem, it is cer- 
tain that the young man would have loved, 
would have respected Mary less than he 
now did, could he imagine that she enter- 
tained the same notions on this very sub- 
ject as those he entertained himself! Few 
men relish infidelity in a woman, whose 
proper sphere would seem to be in believ- 
ing and in worshiping, and not in caviling, 
or in splitting straws on matters of faith. 
Perhaps it is that we are apt to associate 
laxity of morals with laxity of belief, and 
have a general distaste for releasing the 
other sex from any, even the smallest of 
the restraints that the dogmas of the 
church impose; but we hold it to be with- 
out dispute that, with very few exceptions, 
every man would prefer that the woman 
in whom he feels an interest should err on 
the side of bigotry rather than on that of 
what is called liberalism in points of relig- 
ious belief. Thus it is with most of us, and 
thus was it with Roswell Gardiner. He 
could not wonder at Mary’s rigid notions, 
considering her education; and, on the 
whole, he rather liked her the better for 
them, at the very moment that he felt 
they might endanger his own happiness. 
If women thoroughly understood how 
much of their real power and influence 


116 WORKS 


with men arises from their seeming de- 
pendence, there would be very little toler- 
ance in their own circles for those among 
them who are for proclaiming their inde- 
pendence and their right to equality in 
all things. 

While our young mariner and his com- 
panion were working their way up to the 
table-land, which lay fully three hundred 
feet above the level of the sea, there was 
little opportunity for further discourse, so 
rough was the way, and so difficult the 
ascent. At the summit, however, there 
was a Short pause, ere the two undertook 
the mountain proper, and they came to a 
halt to take a look at the aspect of things 
around them. There was the boat, a 
mere white speck on the water, flying 
away with a fresh northerly breeze tow- 
ard the volcano, while the smoke from the 
latter made a conspicuous and not very 
distant landmark. Nearer at home, all 
appeared unusually plain for a region in 
which fogs were apt to prevail. The cove 
lay almost beneath them, and the schooner, 
just then, struck the imagination of her 
commander, as a fearfully small craft to 
come so far from home and to penetrate 
So deep among the mazes of the ice. It 
was that ice itself, however, that attracted 
most of Roswell’s attention. Far as the 
eye could reach, north, south, east, and 
west, the ocean was brilliant and chill 
with the vast floating masses. The effect 
on the air was always perceptible in that 
region, ‘‘killing the summer,” as the 
Sealers expressed it; but it seemed to be 
doubly so at the elevation to which the 
two adventures had. attained. Still, the 
panorama was magnificent. The only 
part of the ocean that did not seem to be 
alive with icebergs, if one may use such 
an expression, was the space within the 
group, and that was as clear as an estu- 
ary ina mild climate. It really appeared 
as if nature had tabooed that privileged 
spot, in order that the communication be- 
tween the different islands should remain 
open. Of course, the presence of so many 
obstacles to the billows without, and in- 
deed even to the rake of the winds, pro- 
duced smooth water within, the slow, 
breath-like heaving and setting of the 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


ceaseless ground-swell, being the only 
perceptible motion to the water inside, 

“°Tis a very remarkable view, Ste- 
phen,’’ said Roswell Gardiner, “ but there 
will be one much finer, if we can work our 
way up that cone of a mountain, and 
stand on its naked cap. I wish I had 
brought an old ensign and a small spar 
along to set up the gridiron in honor of 
the States. We’re beginning to put out 
our feelers, old Stimson, and shall have 
*em on far better bits of territory than 
this, before the earth has gone round in 
its track another hundred years.” 

“Well, to my notion, Captain Gar’ner,”’ 
answered the seaman, following his offi- 
cer toward the base of the cone, “‘ Uncle 
Sam has got more land now than he 
knows what to do with. If a body could 
discover a bit of ocean, or a largish sort 
of a sea, there might be some use in it. 
Whales are getting to be skeary, and are 
mostly driven off their own grounds ; and 
as for seals, you must bury yourself, craft 
and all, up to the truck in ice, to get a 
smile from one of their good-lookin’ count’- 
nances, as I always say.”’ 

‘‘T’m afraid, Stephen, it is all over with 
the discovery of more seas. Even the 
moon, they now say, is altogether with- 
out water, having not so much as a lake 
or a large pond to take a duckin.”? 

‘‘ Without water, sir ! ’’ exclaimed Stim- 
son, quiteaghast. ‘If ’tis so, sir, it must 
be right, since the same hand that made 
the moon made this ’arth and all it con- 
tains. But what can they do for seafaring 
folks in the moon, if what you tell me, 
Captain Gar’ner, is the truth ? ” 

“They must do without them. I fancy 
oil and skins are not very much in demand 
among the moonites, Stephen. What’s 
that, off here to the eastward, eh? EHast- 
and-by-north-half-east, or so ?”’ 

‘‘T see what you mean, sir. It does 
look wonderfully like a sail, and a sail 
pretty well surrounded by ice, too !”’ 

There was no mistake in the matter. 
The white canvas of a vessel was. plainly 
visible, over avast breadth of field ice, a 
little to the northward of the island that 
lay directly opposite the cove. Although 
the sails of this stranger were spread, it 


THE SHA LIONS. 


was plain enough he was closely beset, if 
not actually jammed. From the first in- 
stant he saw the strange craft, Roswell 
had not a doubt of her character. He 
felt convinced it was his late consort, the 
Sea Lion of the Vineyard, which had 
found her way to the group by means of 
some hint that had fallen into Daggett’s 
hands, if not by a positive nautical in- 
stinct. So great had been his own suc- 
cess, however, and so certain did he now 
feel of filling up in due season, that he 
cared much less for this invasion on his 
privacy than he would have done a fort- 
night earlier. On the contrary, it might 
be a good thing to have a consort in the 
event of any accident occurring to his own 
vessel. From the moment, then, that 
Gardiner felt certain of the character of 
the strange sail, his policy was settled in 
his own mind. It was to receive his old 
acquaintance with good-will, and to help 
fill him up, too, as soon as he had secured 
his own cargo, in order that they might 
sail for homein company. By his aid and 
advice the other schooner might save a 
week in time at that most important sea- 
son of the year; and by the experience 
and exertions of his people, a whole month 
in filling up might readily be gained. 

All thoughts of climbing the peak were 
at once abandoned; and, in fifteen min- 
utes after the sail was seen, Roswell and 
Stephen both came panting down to the 
house ; so much easier is it to descend in 
this world than to mount. A swivel 
was instanly loaded and fired as a signal ; 
and, in half an hour, a boat was manned 
and ready. Roswell took command him- 
self, leaving his second mate to look after 
the schooner. Stimson went with his 
captain, and less than one hour after he 
had first seen the strange sail, our hero 
was actually pulling out of the cove, with 
a view to go to her assistance. Roswell 
Gardiner was as good-hearted a fellow as 
ever lived. He had asufficient regard for 
his own interests, as well as for those of 
others intrusted to his care; but, these 
main points looked after, he would cheer- 
fully have worked a month to relieve the 
Vineyard men from the peril that so 
plainly beset them. Setting his sails the 


117 


instant the boat was clear of the rocks, 
away he went, then, as fast as ash and 
canvas could carry him, which was at a 
rate but little short of eight knots in the 
hour. 

As he was thus flying toward his ob- 
ject, our young mariner formed a theory 
in his own mind, touching the drift of the 
ice in the adjacent seas. It was simply 
this. He had sounded in entering the 
great bay, and had ascertained that com- 
paratively shallow water existed between 
the southeastern extremity of Sealer’s 
Land and the nearest island opposite. It 
was deep enough to admit the largest 
vessel that ever floated, and a great deal 
more than this; but it was not deep 
enough to permit an iceberg to pass. The 
tides, too, ran in races among the islands, 
which prevented the accumulation of ice 
at the southern entrance, while the outer 
currents seemed to set everything past 
the group, to allow of the floating moun- 
tains to collect to the eastward, where 
they appeared to be thronged. It was on 
the western verge of this wilderness of 
icebergs and ice fields that the strange 
sail had been seen working her way tow- 
ard the group, which must be plainly in 
view from her decks, as her distance from 
the nearest of the islands certainly did 
not exceed two leagues. 

It required more than two hours for the 
whale-boat of Roswell to cross the bay, 
and reach the margin of that vast field of 
ice which was prevented from drifting 
into the open space only by encountering 
the stable rocks of the first of the group. 
Every eye was now turned in quest of an 
opening, by means of which it might be 
possible to get further to the eastward. 
One, at length, was discovered, and into 
it Gardiner dashed, ordering his boat’s 
crew to stretch themselves out at their 
oars, though every man with him thought 
they were plunging into possible destruc- 
tion. On the boat went, however, now 
sheering to starboard, now to port, to 
avoid projecting spurs of ice, until she had 
plowed her way through a fearfully nar- 
row, and a deviating passage, that some- 
times barely permitted them to go through, 
until a spot was reached where the two 


118 5 


fields which formed this strait actually 
came in close, crushing contact with each 
other. Roswell took a look before and 
behind him, saw that his boat was safe, 
owing to the formation of the two outlines 
of the respective fields, when he sprang 
upon the ice itself, bidding the boot-steerer 
to wait forhim. A shout broke out of the 
lips of the young captain the instant he 
was erect on the ice. There lay the 
schooner, the Martha’s Vineyard craft, 
within half a mile of him, in plain sight, 
and in as plain jeopardy. She was 
jammed, with every prospect, as Roswell 
thought, of being crushed, ere she could 
get free from the danger. 


a 


CHAPTER XVI. 


‘* A sculler’s notch in the stern he made, 
An oar he shaped of the battle blade; 
Then sprung to his seat with a lightsome leap, 
And launched afar on the calm, blue deep.” 
—THE CULPRIT Fay. 


ROSWELL was hardly on the ice before a 
sound of a most portentous sort reached 
his ear. He knew at once that the field 
had been rent in twain by outward press- 
ure, and that some new change was to 
occur that might release or might destroy 
the schooner. He was on the point of 
Springing forward in order to join Dag- 
gett, when a call from the boat arrested 
his steps. 

“These here fields are coming together, 
Captain Gar’ner, and our boat will soon 
be crushed unless we get it out of the 
water.’’ 

Sure enough, asingle glance behind him 
sufficed to assure the young master of the 
truth of this statement. The field he was 
on was slowly swinging, bringing its west- 
ern margin in close contact with the 
eastern edge of the floe that lay within it. 
The movement could be seen merely by the 
closing of the channel though which the 
boat had come, and by the cracking and 
crushing of the ice on the edges of the two 
fields. So tremendous was the pressure, 
however, that cakes as large as a small 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


small fragments, as it might be under the 
vise of a power hitherto unknown to the 
spectators. Slow as wasthe movement of 
the floe, it was too fast to allow of delay ; 
and, finding a suitable place, the boat was 
hauled up, and put in security on the floe 
that lay nearest the schooner. 

“This may give us a long drag to get 
back into the water, Stimson, and a night 
out of our bunks,” said Roswell, looking 
about him, as soon as the task was 
achieved. 

‘*T do not know that, sir,”? was the an- 
Sswer. ‘It seems to me that the floe has 
parted alongside of them rocks, and if so- 
be that should turn out to be the case, the 
whull on us, schooner, boat, and all hands, 
may drift into the bay ; for that there is a 
current setting from this quarter up tow- 
ard our island, I’m sartain of, by the feel 
of my oar, as we come along.” 

““It may be so; the currents run all 
manner of ways, and field ice may pass 
the shoals, though a berg never can. I 
do not remember, nevertheless, to have 
ever seen even a floe within the group— 
nothing beyond large cakes that have got 
adrift by some means or other.”’ 

‘“‘Thave, sir, though only once. A few 
days a’ter we got in, when I was ship- 
keeper, and all hands was down under the 
rocks of the north end, a field come in at 
the northern entrance of the bay and went 
out at the southern. It might have been 
a league athwart it, and it drifted, as a 
bedy might say, as if it had some one 
aboard to give it the right sheer. Touch 
it did at the south cape, but just winding 
as handy as a craft could have done it, in 
a good tide’s way, out to sea it went ag’in, 
bound to the south pole for-ti-’now.”’ 

“Well, this is good news, and may be 
the means of saving the Vineyard craft 
in the end. We do seem to be setting 
bodily into the bay, and if we can only 
get clear of that island, I do not see what 
is to hinder it. Here is a famous fellow 
of a mountain to the northward, coming 
down before the wind, as one might say, 
and giving us a cant into the passage. 
I should think that chap must produce 


house were broken off, and forced upward | some sort of a change, whether it be for 
on the surface of the field, or ground into | better or worse.”’ 


THE SHA LIONS. 


_ «© Ay, ay, sir,’? put in Thompson, who 
acted as a boat-steerer at need, ‘‘ he may 
do just that, but it is allhecando. Mr. 
Green and I sounded out from the cove 
for a league or more, a few days since, 
and we found less than twenty fathoms, 
as faras we went. That chap up to the 
nor’ard there draws something like a 
hundred fathoms, if he draws an inch. 
He shows more above water than a 


 first-rate’s truck.”’ 


“That does he, and a good deal to 
spare. Thompson, do you and Todd re- 
main here, and look after the boat, while 
- the rest of us will shape our course for the 
schooner. She seems to be in a wicked 
berth, and ’twill be no more than neigh- 
borly to try to get her out of it.’’ 

Truly enough might Rosweli call the 
berth of the Sea Lion of the Vineyard by 
any expressive name that implied danger. 
When the party reached her, they found 
the situation of that vessel to be as fol- 
lows: She had been endeavoring to work 
her way through a passage between two 
large fields, when she found the ice clos- 
ing, and that she was in great danger 
of being “‘nipped.’? Daggett was a man 
of fertile resources and great decision of 
character. Perceiving that escape was 
impossible, all means of getting clear 
being rendered useless by the floes seen 
touching, both before and behind him, he 
set about adopting the means most likely 
to save his vessel.. Selecting a spot where 
a curve, in the margin of the field to lee- 
ward, promised temporary security, at 
least, he got his vessel into it, anchored 
fast to the floe. Then he commenced cut- 
ting away the ice, by means of axes first, 
and of saws afterward, in the hope that 
he might make such a cavity as, by its 
size and shape, would receive the schoon- 
er’s hull, and prevent her destruction. 
For several hours had he and his people 
been at this work, when, to their joy, as 
well as to their great astonishment, they 
were suddenly joined by Roswell and his 
party. The fact was, that so intently had 
every one of the Vineyard men’s faculties 
been absorbed by their own danger, and 
so much was each individual occupied by 
his own duty, that not a man among them 


119 


had seen the boat, or even any of the 
crew, until Gardiner called out to Dag- 
gett as he approached, announcing his 
presence by his voice. 

“This is good fortune, truly, Captain 
Gar’ner,”’? said Daggett, shaking his 
brother master cordially by the hand ; 
‘‘xood fortune, do I callit! I was satis- 
fied that I should fall in with you some- 
where about this group of islands, for they 
lie just about where my late uncle had 
given us reason to suppose some good 
sealing-ground might be met with; but I 
did not hope to see you this morning. 
You observe our position, Captain Gar’- 
ner; there is every prospect of a most 
awful nip !”’ 

‘«‘There is, indeed, though I see you 
have been making some provision for it. 
What luck have you had in digging a slip 
to let the schooner into ?”’ 

«Well, we might have had worse, 
though better would have been more 
agreeable. It’s plain sailing, so long as 
we can work above water, and you see 
we’ve cleared a fine berth for the craft, 
down to the water’s edge; but, below 
that, ’tis blind work and slow. ‘The field 
is some thirty feet thick, and sawing 
through it is out of the.question. The 
most we can do is to get off pieces diagon- 
ally. I am not without hopes that we 
have done enough of this to make a wedge 
on which the schooner will rise, if pressed 
hard on her off-side. I have heard of such 
things, Captain Gar’ner, though I cannot 
say I ever saw it.”’ 

‘Tt’s a ticklish business to trust to such 
a protector; still a great deal must be 
gained by cutting away so much of this 
upper ice, and it is possible your schooner 
may be lifted, as you seem to expect. 
Has anything been done to strengthen 
the craft inboard ? ”’ 

“Notas yet; though I’ve thought of 
that, too. But what is the stoutest ship 
that ever floated against the pressure of 
such an enormous field of ice? Had we 
not better keep cutting away? ”’ 

‘‘You can continue to work the saw 
and the axes, but I will give an eye to 
strengthening the craft inboard. Just 
point out the spars and plank you can 


120 


Spare, and we’ll see what can be done. 
At any rate, my lads, you can now work 
with the certainty that your lives are 
safe. My schooner lies about six leagues 
from you, as safely moored as if she lay 
in a dock. Come, Captain Daggett, let 
me see your spare spars and plank.’’ 

Great encouragement it certainly was 
to these mariners, so far from home, and 
in their imminently perilous condition, to 
know that a countryman and a friend was 
so near them to afford shelter and protec- 
tion. The American sailor is not a cheer- 
ing animal, like his English relative, but 
he. quite as clearly understands what 
ought to be received with congratulation 
as those who are apt to make more noise. 
The Vineyard men, in particular, were 
habitually quiet and thoughtful, there 
being but one seaman in the craft who 
did not husband his lay and look forward 
to meet the wants of a future daivy?! 'Phis 
is the result of education, men usually be- 
coming quiet as they gain ideas, and feel 
that the tongue has been given to us in 
order to communicate them to our fellows. 
Still the joy at receiving this unlooked-for 
assistance was great among the Vineyard 
men, and each party went to work with 
activity and zeal. 

The task of Roswell Gardiner was in- 
board, while that of Daggett and his men 
continued to be on the ice. The latter re- 
sumed the labor of cutting and sawing the 
field, and of getting up fenders, or skids, 
to protect the inner side of their vessel 
from the effects of a “nip.”? As for Gardi- 
ner, he set about his self-assumed duty 
with great readiness and intelligence. His 
business was to strengthen the craft by 
getting supports up in her hold. This 
was done without much difficulty, all the 
upper part of the hold being clear and 
easily come at. Spars were cut to the 
proper length, plank were placed in the 
broadest part of the vessel, opposite to 
each other, and the spars were wedged in 
carefully, extending from side to side, so 
as to form a great additional support to 
the regular construction of the schooner. 
In little more than an hour, Roswell had 
his task accomplished, while Daggett did 


not see that he could achieve much more | 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


himself. They met on the ice to consult 
and to survey the condition of things 
around them. 

The outer field had been steadily en- 
croaching upon the inner, breaking the 
edges of both, until the points of junction 
were to be traced by a long line of frag- | 
ments forced upward, and piled high in 
the air. Open spaces, however, still ex- 
isted, owing to irregularities in the out- 
lines of the two floes; and Daggett hoped 
that the little bay into which he had got 
his schooner might not be entirely closed, 
ere a shift of wind, or a change in the 
tides, might carry away the causes of the 
tremendous pressure that menaced his 
security. It is not easy for those who are 
accustomed to look at natural objects in 
their more familiar aspects, fully to appre- 
ciate the vast momentum of the weight 
that was now drifting Slowly down upon 
the schooner. The only ray of hope was 
to be found in the deficiency in one of the 
two great requisites of such a force. 
Momentum being weight multiplied into 
velocity, there were some glimpses visi- 
ble, of a nature to produce a slight degree 
of expectation that the last might yet be 
resisted. The movement was slow, but it 
was absolutely grand, by its steadiness 
and power. Any one who has ever stood 
on a lake or river shore, and beheld the 
undeviating force with which a small cake 
of ice crumbles and advances before a 
breeze, or in a: current, may form some 
idea of the majesty of the movement of a 
field of ice leagues in diameter, and which 
was borne upon by a gale of the ocean, as 
well as by currents, and by the weight of 
drifting icebergs from without. It is true 
that the impetus came principally from a 
great distance, and could scarcely be de- 
tected or observed by those around the 
Schooner ; still, these last were fully aware 
of the whole character of the danger, 
which each minute appeared to render 
more and more imminent and imposing. 
The two fields were obviously closing still, 
and that with a resistless power that 
boded destruction to the unfortunate 
vessel. The open water near her was 
already narrowed to a space that half an 
hour might suffice to close entirely. 


THE SEA 


“Have you set that nearest island by 
compass, Daggett ? ’? asked Roswell Gar- 
diner, as soon as he had taken a good 
look around him. ‘‘To me it seems that 
it bears more to the eastward than it did 
an hour since. If this should be true, 
our inner field here must have a very con- 
siderable westerly set.’’ 

‘©In which case we may still hope to 
drift clear,’’ returned Daggett, springing 
on board the schooner, and running aft to 
the binnacle, Roswell keeping close at his 
side. ‘‘ By George! it is as you say; the 
bearings of that island are altered at 
least two points! ”’ 

“In which case our drift has exceeded 
a league—Ha ! what noise is that? Can 
it be an eruption of the volcano ? ”’ 

Daggett, at first, was inclined to be- 
lieve it was a sound produced by some 
of the internal convulsions of the earth, 
which within, as if in mockery of the chill 
scene that prevailed without, was a rag- 
ing volcano, the fierce heats of which 
found vent at the natural chimneys pro- 
duced by its own efforts. This opinion, 
however, did not last long, and he gave 
expression to his new thoughts in his 
answer. 

«Tis the ice,’? he said. ‘<I do believe 
the pressure has caused the fields to part 
on the rocks of that island. If so, our 
leeward floe may float away, as fast as 
the weather field approaches.”’ 

“‘Hardly,’’ said Roswell, gazing intent- 
ly toward the nearest island; ‘‘ hardly ; 
for the most weatherly of the two will 
necessarily get the force of the wind and 
the impetus of those bergs first, and make 
the fastest drift. It may lessen the vio- 
lence of the nip, but I do not think it will 
avert it altogether.”’ 

This opinion of Gardiner’s fully de- 
scribed all that subsequently occurred. 
The outer floe continued its inroads on 
the inner, breaking up the margins of 
both, until the channel was so nearly 
closed as to bring the field from which 
the danger was most apprehended in ab- 
solute contact with the side of the schoon- 
er. When the margin of the outer floe 
first touched the bilge of the schooner, 
it was at the precise spot where the 


LIONS. 121 


vessel had just been fortified within. Fen- 
ders had also been provided without, and 
there was just a quarter of a minute, dur- 
ing which the two captains hoped that 
these united means of defense might en- 
able the craft to withstand the pressure. 
This delusion lasted but a moment, how- 
ever, the cracking of timbers letting it be 
plainly seen that the force was too great 
to be resisted. For another quarter of a 
minute the two masters held their breath, 
expecting to see the deck rise beneath 
their feet, as the ice rose along the points 
of contact between the floes. Such, in all 
probability, would have been the result, 
had not the pressure brought about an- 
other change, that was quite as much 
within the influence of the laws of mechan- 
ical forces, though not so much expected. 
Owing to the wedge-like form of the ves- 
sel’s bottom, as well as to the circum- 
stance that the ice of the outer floe had 
a similar shape, projecting beneath the 
schooner’s keel, the craft was lifted bodi- 
ly, with an upward jerk, as if she were 
suddenly released from some imprisoning 
power. Released she was, indeed, and 
that most opportunely, for another half 
minute would have seen her ribs broken 
in, and the schooner a mangled wreck. 
As she now rose, Roswell gave vent to 
his delight in a loud cry, and all hands 
felt that the occurrence might possibly 
save them. The surge upward was fear- 
ful, and several of the men were thrown 
off their feet; but it effectually released 
the schooner from the nip, laying her 
gradually up in the sort of dock that her 
people had been so many hours preparing 
for her reception. There she lay, inclin- 
ing a little, partly on her bilge, or sewed, 
as seamen term it, when a vessel gets a 
list from touching the ground and being 
left by the tide, neither quite upright, 
nor absolutely on her beam-ends. 

No sooner was the vessel thus docked, 
than all apprehension of receiving further 
injury from the outer floe ceased. It 
might force the schooner altogether on 
the inner field, driving the vessel before 
it, as an avalanche of mud in the Alps is 
known to force cottages and hamlets in » 
its front ; but it could no longer “‘nip”’ it. 


122 WORKS 
It did not appear probable to the two 
masters, however, that the vessel would 
be forced from its present berth, the rend- 
ing and cracking of the ice sensibly dimin- 
ishing, as the two floes came closer and 
closer together. Nor was this all: it was 
soon very obvious that the inner field was 
drifting, with an increased motion, into 
the bay, while the larger, or outer floe, 
seemed to hang, from some cause or 
other. Of the fact there was soon no 
doubt, the fissure beginning to open, as 
slowly and steadily as it had closed, but 
noiselessly, and without any rending of 
the ice. 

““We shall get you clear, Daggett! 


we shall get you clear!’’ cried Roswell, : 


with hearty good-will, forgetting in that 
moment of generous effort, all feelings 
of. competition and rivalry. ‘Il know 


what you are after, my good fellow— | 


have understood it from the first. Yon- 
der high land is the spot you seek; and 
along the north shore of that island are 
elephants, lions, dogs, bears, and other 
animals, to fill up all the craft that ever 
came out of the Vineyard !”’ 

‘““This is hearty, Gar’ner,’’ returned 
the other, giving his brother master a 
most cordial shake of the hand, ‘‘ and 
it’s just what -I like. Sealing is a soci- 
able business, and a craft should never 
come alone into these high latitudes. 
Accidents will happen to the most pru- 
dent man living, as you see by what has 
just befallen me; for, to own the truth, 
we’ve had a narrow chance of it!” 

The reader will remember that all 
which Daggett now said, was uttered by 
a man who saw his vessel lying on the 
ice, with a list that rendered it somewhat 
difficult to move about on her deck, and 
still in circumstances that: would have 
caused half the navigators of this world 
to despair. Such was not the fact with 
Daggett, however. Seven thousand miles 
from home, alone, in an unknown sea, 
and uncertain of ever finding the place 
he sought, this man had picked his way 
among mountains and fields of ice, with 
perhaps less hesitation and reluctance 
than a dandy would encounter the perils 
of a crossing, when the streets were a 


OF FENIMORE 


COOPER. 


little moistened by rain. Even then, with 


his vessel literally shelved on the ice, cer- 


tain that she had been violently nipped, 
he was congratulating himself on reach- 
ing a sealing ground from which he could 
never return without encountering all the 
same dangers over again. As for Ros- 
well, he laughed a little at the other’s 
opinion of the sealing business, for he was 
morally certain the Vineyard man would 
have kept the secret, had it been in his 
possession alone. 

‘‘ Well, well, we'll forget the past,’ he 
said, ‘‘all but what we’ve done to help 
one another. You stood by me off Hat- 
teras, and I’ve been of some service to 
you here. You know how it is in our call- 
ing, Daggett; first come, first served. I 
got here first, and have had the cream of 
the business for this season; though I do 
not by any means wish to be understood 
as saying that you are too late.”’ 

‘““T hope not, Gar’ner. *Twould be vex- 
atious to: have all this risk and trouble 
for nothing. How much ile have you 
stowed ? ”’ 

‘All my ground tier and a few riders. 
It is with the skins that we are doing’ the 
best business.”’ 

Daggett’s eyes fairly snapped at this 
announcement, which aroused all his pro- 
fessional ambition, to say nothing of that 
propensity to the ‘‘root of all evil,’? which 
had become pretty thoroughly incorpo- 
rated with his moral being, by dint of 
example, theory, and association. We 
have frequently had occasion to remark 
how much more ‘‘enjoyable,’’ for the in- 
tellectual and independent, is a country 
on the decline, than a country on the ad- 
vance. The one is accumulating that 
wealth which the other has already pos- 
sessed and improved; and men cease to 
dwell so much on riches in their inmost 
souls, when the means of obtaining them 
would seem to have got beyond their reach. 
This is one of the secrets of the universal 
popularity of Italy with the idle and edu- 
cated; though the climate, and the monu- 
ments, and the recollections, out of doubt, 
contribute largely to its charms. Never- 
theless, man, as a rule, is far more re- 
moved from the money-getting mania in 


THE SHA LIONS. 


123 


Italy than in almost any other portion of | keep him any Jonger in suspense, should 


- the Christian world; and this merely be- 
cause the time of her wealth and power 
has gone by, leaving in its train a thou- 
sand fruits that would seem to be the 
most savory, as the stem on which they 
grew would appear to be approaching its 
decay. Neither on Martha’s Vineyard, 
however, nor in any part of the Great 
Republic, indeed, has this waning season 
yet commenced, and the heart of man is 
still engrossed with those desires that are 
to produce the means which are to lay the 
foundations for the enjoyment of genera- 
tions to come. 

““That’s luck, indeed, for a craft so 

early in the season,’’ returned Daggett, 
when his eyes had done snapping. ‘‘ Are 
the critturs getting to be wild and 
skeary ? ”’ 
— **Not more so than the day we began 
upon them. I have taken the greatest 
care to send none but my most experienced 
hands out to kill and skin, and their or- 
ders have been rigid to give as little 
alarm as possible. If you wish to fill up, 
I would advise you to take the same _ pre- 
cautions, for the heel of the season is be- 
ginning to show itself.’’ 

<‘] will winter here, but I get a full 
craft,’ said Daggett, with a resolute 
manner, if not absolutely serious in what 
he said. ‘‘ Trouble enough have I had to 
find the group, and we Vineyard men 
don’t relish the idee of being outdone.’’ 

“You would be done up, my fine fel- 
low,’’ answered Roswell, laughing, ‘did 
you attempt to pass a winter here. The 
Sea Lion of Humses’s Hull would not her- 
self keep you in fuel, and you would have 
to raft it off next summer on your casks, 
or remain here forever.”’ 

**T suppose a body might expect to see 
you back again, another season,’’ observed 
Daggett, glancing meaningly toward his 
companion, as if he had seriously revolved 
so desperate a plan inhis mind. ‘‘’Tisn’t 
often that a sealer lets a station like that 
you’ve described drop out of his recollec- 
tion in a single v’y’ge.”’ 

“| may be back or I may not,’’ said 
Roswell, just then remembering Mary, 
and wondering if she would continue to 


he return successful from his present ad- 
venture: ‘‘that will depend on others 
more than on myself. I wish, however, 
now we are both here, and there can no 
longer be any ‘ hide and go seek’ between 
us, that you would tell me how you came 
to know anything about this cluster of 
islands, or of the seals then and there to 
be found ? ” 

“You forget my uncle, who died on 
Oyster Pond, and whose effects I crossed 
over to claim ?”’ 

‘‘T remember him very well—saw him 
often while living, and helped to bury him 
when dead.”’ | 

‘‘ Well, our information came from him. 
He threw out several hints consarning 
sealing grounds aboard the brig in which 
he came home; and you needn’t be told, 
Gar’ner, that a hint of that kind is sartain 
to find its way through all the ports down 
east. But hearing that there was new 
sealing ground wasn’t knowing where to 
find it. I should have been at a loss, 
wasn’t it for the spot on my uncle’s chart 
that had been rubbed over lately, as I 
concluded, to get rid of some of his notes. 
You know, as well as I do, that the spot 
was in this very latitude and longitude, 
and so I came here to look for the much- 
desired land.’’ 

‘“*And you have undertaken such an 
outfit, and come this long distance into 
an icy sea, on information as slight as 
this !’’ exclaimed Roswell, astonished at 
this proof of sagacity and enterprise, 
even in men who are renowned for scent- 
ing dollars from pole to pole. 

“On this, with a few hints picked up, 
here and there, among some of the old 
gentleman’s papers. He was fond of 
scribbling, and I have got a sort of a 
chart that he scratched on a leaf of his 
Bible, that was made to represent this 
very group, as I can now see.”’ 

‘Then you could have no occasion for 
the printed chart, with the mark of oblit- 
eration on it, and did not come here on 
that authority after all.’’ 

‘<There you’re wrong, Captain Gar’ner. 
The chart of the group had no latitude or 
longitude, but just placed each island 


124 


with its bearings and distances from the 
other islands. It was no help in finding 
the place, which might be in one hemi- 
sphere as well as the other.”’ 

‘‘It was, then, the mark of the obliter- 
ation——”’ 

‘‘Marks, if you please, Captain Gar’- 
ner,’’ interrupted the other, significantly. 
““My uncle talked a good deal aboard of 
that brig about other matters besides 
sealing. We think several matters have 
been obliterated from the old chart, and 
we intend to look ’em all up. It’s our 
right, you know, seeing that the old man 
was Vineyard-born, and weare his nearest 
of kin.”’ 

‘*Certainly,’’ rejoined Roswell, laugh- 
ing again, but somewhat more faintly 
than before. ‘‘ Kvery man for himself in 
this world is a good maxim; it being 
pretty certain if we do not take care of 
ourselves, no one will take care of us.’’ 

«Yes, sir,’’ said Stimson, who was 
standing near; ‘“‘there is One to care 
for every hair of our heads, however 
forgetful and careless we may be our- 
selves. Wasn’t it for this, Captain 
Gar’ner, there’s many a craft that comes 
into these seas that would never find 
its way out of ’em; and many a bold 
sailor, with a heart boiling over with 
fun and frolic, that would be frozen to an 
icicle every year ! ”’ 

Gardiner felt the justice of this remark, 
and easily pardoned its familiarity for its 
truth. In these sealers the discipline is 
by no means of that distant and military 
or naval character that is found in even 
an ordinary merchantman. As _ every 
seaman has an interest in the result of 
the voyage, some excuse was made for 
this departure from the general usage ; 
and this familiarity itself never exceeded 
the bounds that were necessary to the 
observance of duty. 

‘“‘Ay, ay,’’ returned Roswell, smiling, 
“in one sense you are right enough ; but 
Captain Daggett and myself were speak- 
ing of human affairs, as human affairs are 
carried on. Is not this inner field drifting 
fast away from the outer, Daggett? If 
So, we shall go directly into the bay !”’ 

It was as Gardiner thought. By some 


? 


WORKS OF FENIMORE OCOOOPER. 


means that were not apparent, the floes 


were now actually separating, and at a 


rate of movement which much exceeded 
that of their junction. All idea of further 
danger from the outer field disappeared, 
as a matter of course. 

‘It’s so, Captain Gar’ner,’’ said Stim- 
son, respectfully, but with point; ‘and 
who and what brought it about for our 
safety and the preservation of this craft ? 
I just ventur’ to ask that question, sir.’ 

“‘It may be the hand of Providence, my 
good fellow ; for I very frankly own I can 
see no direct physical cause. Neverthe- 
less, I fancy it would be found that the 
tides or currents have something to do 
with it, if the truth could be come at.’’ 

“Well, sir, and who causes the tides 
and currents to run, this-a-way and that- 
a-way ?”’ 


““There you have me, Stephen; for I 


never could get hold of the clew to their 
movements at all,’? answered Roswell, 
laughing. ‘‘ There is a reason for it all, I 
dare say, if one could only find it out. 
Captain Daggett, it is high time to look 
after the safety of your schooner. She 
ought to be in the cove before night sets 
in, Since the ice has found its way into the 
bay. 9! 

This appeal produced a general move- 
ment. By this time the two fields were a 
hundred fathoms asunder ; the smaller, or 
that on which the vessel lay, drifting 
quite fast into the bay, under the joint in- 
fluences of wind and current; while the 
larger floe had clearly been arrested by 
the islands. This smaller field was much 
lessened in surface, in consequence of hay- 
ing been broken at the rocks, though the 
fragment that was thus cut off was more 
than a league in diameter, and of a thick- 
ness that exceeded many yards. 

As for the Sea Lion of the Vineyard, 
she was literally shelved, as has been 
said. So irresistible had been the mo- 
mentum of the great floe, that it lifted her 
out of the water as two or three hands 
would run up a bark canoe on a gravelly 
beach. This lifting process had, very fort- 
unately for the craft, been effected by an 
application of force from below, in a 


wedge-like manner, and by bringing the — 


\ 


THE 


SHA LIONS. 


125 


strongest defenses of the vessel to meet |ing the camel’s back, by laying the last 


the power. Consequently, no essential 
injury had been done the vessel in thus 
laying her on her screw-dock. 

“If a body could get the craft off as 
easily as she was got on,’’ observed Dag- 
gett, as he and Roswell Gardiner stood 
looking at the schooner’s situation, “it 
would be but a light job. But, as it is, 
she lies on ice at least twenty feet thick, 
and ice that seems as solid as flint ! ”’ 

‘““We know it is not quite as hard as 
that, Daggett,’’ was Roswell’s reply ; 
“for our saws and axes make great 
havoc in it, when we can fairly get at 
hia 

“Tf one cowld get fairly at it! But 
here you see, Gar’ner, everything is under 
water, and an ax is next to useless. Nor 
can the saws be used with much advan- 
tage on ice so thick.”’ 

«‘There is no help for it but hard work 
and great perseverance. I would advise 
that a saw be set at work at each end of 
the schooner, allowing a little room in 
case of accidents, and that we weaken the 
foundation by two deep cuts. The weight 
of the vessel will help us, and in time she 
will settle back into her ‘ native element,’ 
as the newspapers have it.”’ » 

There was, indeed, no other process that 
promised success, and the advice of Gar- 
diner was followed. In the course of the 
next two hours deep cuts were made with 
the saws, which were pushed so low as to 
reach quite to the bottom of the cake. 
This could be done only by what the sail- 
ors called ‘‘jury-handles,’’ or spars se- 
cured to the plates. The water offered 
the principal obstacle, for that lay on the 
shelf at least five feet deep. Perseverance 
and ingenuity, however, finally achieved 
their aim. A cracking was heard, the 
schooner slowly righted, and settled off 
into the sea again, as easily and harm- 
lessly as if scientifically launched. The 
fenders protected ther sides and copper, 
though the movement was little more than 
Slowly sinking on the fragment of the 
cake, which, by means of the cuts, had 
been gradually so much reduced as to be 
unable to uphold so great a weight. It 
was merely reversing the process of break- 


feather on his load. 

This happy conclusion to several hours 
of severe toil, occurred just as the field 
had drifted abreast of the cove, and was 
about the center of the bay. Hazard 
came up also at that point, on his return 
from the volcano, altering his course a 
little to speak the strangers. The report 
of the mate concerning his discoveries was 
simple and brief. There was a volcano, 
and one in activity; but it had nothing 
remarkable about it. No seal were seen, 
and there was little to reward one for 
crossing the bay. Sterility, and a chill 
grandeur, were the characteristics of all 
that region ; and these were not wanting 
to any part of the group. Just asthe sun 
was setting, Gardiner piloted his compan- — 
ion into the cove; and the two Sea Lions 
were moored amicably side by side, and 
that too at a spot where thousands of the 
real animals were to be found within a 
league. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


‘¢ The morning air blows fresh on him; 
The waves dance gladly in his sight; 
The sea-birds call, and wheel, and skim— 
O blessed morning light !’”»—DANA. 


THE very day succeeding the arrival of 
the Sea Lion of the Vineyard, even while 
his mate was clearing the vessel, Daggett 
had a gang on the north shore, killing and 
skinning. As Roswell’s rules were rigidly 
observed, no other change was produced 
by this accession to the force of the seal- 
ers, than additional slaughter. Many 
more seals were killed, certainly, but all 
was done so quietly that no great alarm 
was awakened among the doomed animals 
themselves. One great advantage was 
obtained by the arrival of the new party 
that occasioned a good deal of mirth at 
first, but which, in the end, was found to 
be of great importance to the progress of 
the work. Daggett had taken to pieces 
and brought with him the running part of 
a common country wagon, which was soon 
found of vast service in transporting the 


| skins and blubber across the rocks. The 


126 WORKS 


wheels were separated, leaving them in 
pairs, and each axle was loaded with a 
freight that a dozen men would hardly 
have carried, whereas two or three hands 
would drag in the load, with an occasional 
lift from other gangs, to get them up a 
height, or over a cleft. This portion of 
the operation was found to work admir- 
ably, owing in a great measure to the 
smooth surfaces of the rocks; and un- 
questionably, these wheels advanced the 
business of the season at least a fortnight ; 
—Gardiner thoughta month. It rendered 
the crews better natured, too, much dimin- 
ishing their toil, and sending them to their 
bunks at night ina far better condition for 
rest than they otherwise could have been. 

Just one month, or four weeks to a day, 
after the second schooner got in, it being 
Sunday of course, Gardiner and Dagget 
met on the platform of a perfectly even 
rock that lay stretched for two hundred 
yards directly beneath the house. It was 
in the early morning. Notwithstanding 
there was a strong disposition to work 
night and day on the part of the new- 
comers, Roswell’s rule of keeping the 
Sabbath as a day of rest had prevailed, 
and the business of washing, scrubbing, 
and shaving had just commenced. As 
for the two masters, they required fewer 
ablutions than their men, had risen earlier, 
and were already dressed for the day. 

‘‘To-morrow will be the first day of 
_ February,’’ said Daggett, when the salu- 
tations of the morning were passed, ‘‘and 
I was calculating my chances of getting 
full this season. You will be full this 
week, I conclude, Gar’ner ?”’ 

““We hope to be so, by the middle of 
it,’’ was the answer. ‘I think the seal 
are getting to be much shyer than they 
were, and I am afraid we shall demon- 
strate that ‘the more haste is the worse 
speed.’ ”’ 

“What is that to you ?”’ returned Dag- 
gett, quickly. ‘‘Of course you will sail 
for home as soon as you can get off.’’ 

Gardiner did not like the “of course,”’ 
which was indirectly saying what the 
other would do himself under similar cir- 
cumstances. Still, it caused no difference 
in his own decision, which had been made 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


up under the influence of much refiection 
and of a great deal of good feeling. 

‘“‘T shall do no such thing, Captain Dag- 
sett,” was the answer. ‘I do not fancy 
the idea of leaving a fellow-creature, a 
countryman—nay, | might say, a neigh- 
bor, on this lone spot, with the uncer- 
tainty of his ever getting out of it. If 
you can come to some understanding 
with my officers and crew, I will keep the 
schooner here until we are both full, and 
ready to sail in company.”’ 

‘In which case you would nat’rally ask 
a lay for yourself ? *’ 

‘‘Naturally, perhaps, I might,’’ re- 
turned Roswell, smiling, ‘‘though posi- 
tively, I shall not. Not one of us in the 
cabin will look for any other advantage 
than your good company: I have talked — 
this matter over with my mates, and they 
say that the advantage of having a con- 
sort in getting through the ice is suffi- 
cient to justify us in holding on two or 
three weeks longer. With the men, it 
will be a little different, perhaps; and 
they will require some pay. The poor fel- 
lows live by their hands, and what their 
hands do they will expect to be compen- 
sated for.’’ 

“They shall have good lays, depend on 
it. As for yourself, Captain Gar’ner, I 
trust my owners will not forget to do 
what is right, if we ever get home, and 
meet with luck in the market.”’ 

‘‘Never fear for me, Daggett. I look 
for my reward in the bright eyes and 
pleasant smiles of as excellent a girl as 
Long Island can produce. Mary never 
fails to reward me in that way whenever 
Idoright. It 7s right to stand by you 
just now—to do as I would be done by; 
and I’ll do it. Set the thing down as 
decided, but make your bargain with my 
men. And now, Daggett, what say you 
to climbing yonder mountain to-day, by 
way of getting a good survey of our ter- 
ritories, as well as to,take a look at the 
state of the ice? ”’ 

Daggett assented very cheerfully, his 
mind being greatly relieved by this as- 
surance of standing by him, on the part 
of Roswell; for he had been undecided 
whether to remain after the departure of 


THE SHA LIONS. 


the other schooner or not. All was now 
clear to him, however, and the two mas- 
ters made their preparations to ascend 
the mountain as soon as they had break- 
fasted. Stimson was summoned to be of 
the party, his officer having got to be 
accustomed to, and desirous of his com- 
pany. 

For the first two hours after quitting 
the house, Gardiner, Daggett, and the 
boat-steerer were busily employed in 
working their way across the broken 
surface of the island, to the base of the 
cone-like pinnacle that formed the apex 
of all. There they rested and took a lit- 
tle refreshment, conversing the while on 
the state of the ice in the offing, so far as 
the last could be seen from their present 
elevation. 

«We shall have a sharp hill to climb, 
should we succeed in getting up here,”’ 
observed Roswell, ‘“‘though the rocks ap- 
pear to be quite clear of snow just now.”’ 

<‘ Just now, or never. This is the ant- 
arctic dog-days, Gar’ner,’’ answered Dag- 
gett, laughing, and we must make the 
most of them. A mancan move about 
without his pea-jacket at noonday, and 
that is something gained; for, I have 
heard of ice making in the bays, even at 
midsummer.”’ | 

“We are not ina high enough latitude 
for that, thank heaven, though pretty 
well south, too. This is our harvest-time, 
sure enough, and we had better look to it.’’ 

As Gardiner said this, the eyes of all 
three were turned on the sterile scene 
around them. The island was not abso- 
lutely destitute of vegetation, as is the 
case a few degrees further south; but it 
might be said to be nearly so. A few 
stunted plants were to be seen in the fis- 
sures of the rocks, and a little soil had 
been made, seemingly by the crumbling 
of the stones, in which a wiry grass 
occasionally showed itself. As for the 
mountain, however, it was mostly bare ; 


and when our party began to climb, the 


ascent was not only difficult, but in places 
dangerous. Roswell had foreseen this, 
and he had made a provision accordingly. 
In addition to his lance, used as a leaping- 
staff and walking-pike, each man had a 


- 127 


small coil of ratlin-stuff thrown over his 
shoulder, in order to help him in difficult 
places, or enable him to help his com- 
panions. It was in the descent chiefly 
that these ropes were expected to be of 
service, though their utility was made ap- 
parent ere the three reached the summit. 
The ascent of a mountain a thousand feet 
in height is no great exploit under ordi- 
nary circumstances. Even when there are 
precipitous cliffs, gorges, ravines, and 
broken masses, youth, activity, and cour- 
age will commonly overcome all the diffi- 
culties, placing the foot of man on emi- 
nences that Nature would appear to have 
intended solely for the dominion of the 
goat. Thus it did turn out with the three 
sealers, all of whom stood on the bald cap 
of that mountain, after a vigorous and 
somewhat hazardous ascent, that occupied 
rather more than an hour. They had 
greatly aided each other in achieving 
their purpose, to be sure; and the ratlin- — 
stuff was found of use on more than one | 
cccasion. | 

An extraordinary, and, considering the 
accessories, a most brilliant view, re- 
warded the adventurers. But, after a 
few minutes passed in pure admiration of 
what they beheld, the minds of all three 
adverted to the parts which gave such un- 
usual splendor to the panorama. Icebergs 
were visible on all sides of them, the great 
bay excepted; and the group was sur- 
rounded by them, in a way that would 
seem to proclaim a blockade. At that 
season, the south winds prevailed, though 
changes were frequent and sudden, and 
the vast frozen fleet was drifting north. 
Gardiner saw that the passage by which 
he had brought in his schooner was now 
completely closed, and that the only means 
of exit from the bay was by its northern 
outlet. The great depth of the bergs still 
prevented their coming within the cluster 
of islands, while their number and _ size 
completely stopped the floes from passing. 

To the northward, the sea was much 
more open. Gardiner and Daggett both 
thought, as they gazed in that direction, 
that it would be easy enough to take a 
vessel through the difficulties of the navi- 
gation, and that a good run of eight-and- 


128 WORKS 
forty hours would carry her quite beyond 
the crowded ice. This sight awakened 
some regrets in the two masters, that they 
were not then in a condition to depart. 

‘*T am almost sorry that we have made 
a holiday of the Sunday,” said Daggett, 
seating himself on a point of rock, to geta 
little rest after so fatiguing an ascent. 
‘“‘Hvery minute of time is precious to men 
in our situation.”’ 

“‘ Kvery minute of time is precious to all 
men, Captain Daggett, in another and a 
still more important sense, if they did but 
know it,’’? put in Stimson, with a zealous 
freedom, and a Christian’s earnestness. 

“T understand you, Stephen, and will 
not gainsay it. Buta sealin’ v’y’ge is no 
place, after all, for a man to give himself 
up to Sabbaths and religion.’’ 

‘‘All places are good, sir, and all hours 
Sabbaths, when the heart is in the true 
state. God is on this naked rock, as he 
is on the Vineyard; and a thought, or a 
syllable, in His praise, on this mountain, 
are as pleasant to Him as them that arise 
from churches and priests.’’ 

**T believe it.is, at least, a mistake in 
policy to give the men no day of rest,” 
said Roswell, quietly. ‘Though not pre- 
pared to carry matters as far as my friend 
Stephen here, I agree with him entirely in 
that.”’ 

‘‘And not in believing, sir, that the Spirit 
of God is on this island ? ”’ 

“In that too, certainly. Neither Cap- 
tain Daggett nor myself will be disposed 
to dispute either of these two propositions, 
I think, when we come to reflect on them. 
A day of rest would seem to be appointed 
by Nature; and I make no doubt we have 
filled up all the sooner for having observed 
one. Seamen have so many calls on their 
time which cannot be neglected, that it is 
unwise in them to increase the number un- 
necessarily.’’ 

“This is not the spirit, Captain Gar’ner, 
I’m sorry to say, in which we should keep 
our day of rest, though it is well that we 
keep it at all. I’m no stickler for houses 
and congregations, though they are good 
enough in ‘their times and seasons; for 
every man has a tabernacle in his own 
heart, if he’s disposed to worship.”’ 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


“ And if any place on earth can particu- 
larly incline one to worship God, surely it 
must be some such spot as this!’’ ex- 
claimed Roswell, with a degree of fervor 
it was not usual for him to exhibit. 
“Never in my life have my eyes seen a 
sight as remarkable and as glorious as’ 
this!’ 

Well might our young mariner thus 
exclaim. The day was fine for the region, 
but marked by the caprice and changeful 
light of high latitudes. There was mist 
in places, and flurries of snow were to be 
seen to the southward, while the ocean to 
the northward of the group was glittering 
under the brightness of an unclouded sun, 
It was the mixed character of this scene 
that rendered it so peculiar, while its 
grandeur, sublimity, and even beauty, 
were found in its vastness, its noble though | 
wild accessories, its frozen and floating 
mountains, glowing in prismatic light, 
and the play of summer on the features of 
an antarctic view. 

‘*°Tis a remarkable spot, as no one can 
deny,’’ answered Daggett : “but I like its 
abundance of seal the most of all. I can- 
not say I have much taste for sights, un- 
less they bring the promise of good profit 
with them. We Vineyarders live in a 
small way, and are not rich enough to 
take delight in landscapes.”’ 

Bere God, and reverence His hols 
name,’’ said Stimson, earnestly, “and all 
places will be good to look upon. I have 
been on the Vineyard in my time, and 
have never found any difference as to the — 
spot, so long as the heart is right.’’ 

‘‘A poor man must work,’’ answered 
Daggett, dropping his eyes from the more 
distant and gorgeous views of the drifting 
ice-mountains, to the rocky shore, that 
was still frequented by thousands of seals, 
some of the largest of which might be — 
seen, even from that elevation, waddling 
about ; “‘ay, a poor man must work, Sun- 
days or no Sundays; and. he who would 
make his hay, must do it while the sun 
shines. I like meetin’-goin’ at the right 
place, and sealin’ when sealin’ ought to be — 
done. This day is lost, I fear, and I hope 
we shall not have reason to regret it.’ 

Stimson did not abandon what he con- 


Biaivoa to be his duty, but answered this 
Ei. worldly spirit in the best manner his 
uncultivated speech enabled him to do. 
| But his words were thrown away on Dag- 
Pett. The lust of gold was strong within 
him; and while that has full dominion 
over the heart it is vain to expect that 
“any purely spiritual fruits will ripen there. 
Daggett was an instance of what, we 
fear, many: thousands resembling him 
might be found, up and down the land, 
‘of a man energetic by temperament, in- 
‘dustrious by habit, and even moderate in 
his views, but whose whole existence is 
‘concentrated in the accumulation of prop- 
erty. Born poor, and ina state of society 
‘in which no one other generally recognized 

mode of distinction is so universally ac- 
_knowledged as that of the possession of 
“money, it is not surprising that a man of 
his native disposition should early bend all 
“his faculties to this one great object. He 
“was not a miser, like Deacon Pratt, for 
he could spend freely, on occasion, and 
perfectly understood the necessity of mak- 
ing liberal outfits to insure ample returns; 

but he lived for little else than for gain. 

What such a man might have become, 

under more favorable auspices, and with 
different desires instilled into his youthful 
mind, it is not easy to say; it is only cer- 
tain that, as he was, the steel-trap is not 
quicker to spring at the touch, than he 

was to arouse all his manifold energies at 
the hopes or promise of profit. As his 
whole life had been passed in one calling, 
it was but natural that his thoughts 
should most easily revert to the returns 
that calling had so often given. Henever 

dreamed of speculations, knew nothing of 
stocks, had no concerns with manufact- 
ures in cotton or wool, nor had any other 

notion of wealth than the possession of a 
good farm on the Vineyard, a reasonable 
amount of money “at use,’’ certain inter- 
ests in coasters, whalers and sealers, and 
a sufficiency of household effects, and this 
in @ very modest way, to make himself 
and family comfortable. Notwithstand- 
ing this seeming moderation, Daggett was 
_an intensely covetous man; but his wishes 

_were limited by his habits. 

While one of the masters of the sealing 

IV .—5 


ee ie he 


THE SEA LIONS. 


129 


crafts was drawing these pictures, in his 
imagination, of wealth after his manner, 
very different were the thoughts of the 
other. Roswell’s fancy carried him far 
across that blue and sparkling ocean, 
northward, to Oyster Pond, and Deacon 
Pratt’s homestead, and to Mary. He 
saw the last in her single-hearted sim- 
plicity, her maiden modesty, her youthful 
beauth — nay, even in her unyielding 
piety ; for, singular as it may seem, Gar- . 
diner valued his mistress so much the 
more for that very faith to which, in his 
own person, he laid no claim. Irreligious 
he was not, himself, though sceptical on 
the one great tenet of Christianity. But, 
in Mary, it struck him it was right that 
she should believe that which she had 
been so sedulously taught; for he did not 
at all fancy those inquiring minds, in the 
other sex, that lead their possessors in 
quest of novelties and paradoxes. In this 
humor, then, the reader will not be sur- 
prised to hear that he imagined the 
deacon’s niece in her most pleasing attri- 
butes, and bedecked her with all those 
charms that render maidens pleasant to 
youthful lovers. Had Mary been less 
devout, less fixed in her belief that Jesus 
was the Son of God, strange as it may 
seem, the sceptical young man would 
have loved her less. 

And what was that rugged, unculti- 
vated seaman, who stood near the two 
officers, thinking of all this time? Did 
he, too, bend his thoughts on love, and 
profit, and the pleasures of this world? 
Of love, most truly, was his heart full to 
overflowing ; but it was the love of God, 
with that affection for all his creatures, 
that benevolence and faith, which glow as 
warmly in the hearts of the humblest and 
least educated, as in those of the great 
and learned. His mind was turned tow- 
ard his Creator, and it converted the 
extraordinary view that lay before his 
sight into a vast, magnificent, gorgeous, 
though wild temple, for His worship and . 
honor. It might be well for all of us 
occasionally to pause in our eager pursuit 
of worldly objects, and look around on 
the world itself, considering it as but a 
particle in the illimitable fields of crea- 


130 


tion—one among the many thousands of | At length all three reached a spot where 
it seemed they could not overcome the 
Beneath them was the smooth - 


other known worlds, that have been set in 
their place in honor of the hand that made 
them. These brief but vivid glances at 
the immensity of the moral space which 
separates man from his Deity, have very 
healthful effects in inculcating that humil- 
ity which is the stepping-stone of faith 
and love. 

After passing an hour on the bald cap 
of the mountain, sometimes conversing, 
at others ruminating on the scene, a 
change in the weather induced our party 
to move. There had been flurries of snow 
visible all the morning, but it was in the 
_ distance, and among the glittering bergs. 
Once the volcano had thus been shut in 
from view; but now a driving cloud 
passed over the mountain itself, which 
was quickly as white as the pure element 
could make it. So heavy was the fall of 
snow, that it was soon impossible to see a 
dozen yards, and of course the whole of 
the plain of the island was concealed. At 
this most inauspicious moment, our ad- 
venturers undertook their descent. 

It is always much less dangerous to 
mount an acclivity than to go down it. 
The upper progress is easily enough 
arrested, while that in the other direction 
is frequently too rapid to be under perfect 
command. Roswell felt the truth of this, 
and would have proposed a delay until the 
atmosphere became clear again, but it 
struck him that this was not likely to 
occur very soon. He followed Daggett, 
therefore, though reluctantly, and with 
due caution.~° Stimson brought up the 
rear. 

Hor the first ten minutes our adven- 
turers got along without any great diffi- 
culty. ‘They found the precise point at 
which they had reached the summit of 
the mountain, and began to descend. It 
was soon apparent that great caution 
must be used, the snow rendering the 
footing slippery. Daggett, however, was 
a bold and hot-blooded man when in mo- 
tion, and he preceded the party some little 
distance, calling out to those behind him 
to come on without fear. This the last 
did, though it was with a good deal more 
caution than was observed by their leader. 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


difficulties. 
face of a rock already covered with snow, 


while they could not see far enough in ad-— 


vance to ascertain in what this inclined 


plane terminated. Daggett, however, in 


sisted that he knew the spot; that they 
had passed up it. There was a broad 
shelf a short distance below them, and 
once on that shelf, it would be necessary 
to make a considerable circuit in order to 
reach a certain ravine down which the 
path would be reasonably easy. All re- 
membered the shelf and the ravine; the 
question was merely whether the first lay 
beneath them, and as near as Daggett 
supposed. A mistaken confidence beset 
the last, and he carried this feeling so far 
as to decline taking the end ofa line which 
Roswell threw to him, but seated himself 
on the snow and slid downward, passing 
almost immediately out of sight. 
" «“What has become of him ?’”’? demanded 
Roswell, endeavoring to pierce the air by 
straining his eyeballs. 
seen ! 7’ | 
‘Hold on to the line, sir, and give me 


the other end of it; I will! go and see,” 


answered Stimson. 


It being obviously the most hazardous — 


to remain to the last, and descend with- 


out the support of one above him, Ros- — 


well acquiesced in this proposal, lowering 
the boat-steerer down the rock, until he 
too was hid from his sight. But, though 
out of sight in that dense snow-storm, 


Stimson was not so distant as to be be- 


yond reach of the voice. 
‘Go more to the right, sir,’’ called out 


the seaman, ‘‘and steady me with ‘the © 


line along with you.’ 

This was done, the walking being suf- 
ficiently secure at the elevation where 
Roswell was. Presently, Stimson shook 
the line and called out again. 

“That will do, Captain Gar’ner,’’ he 
said. ‘Iam on the shelf now, and have 
pretty good footing. Lay the line down 
on the snow, sir, and slide as slowly as 
you can ; mind and keep close at its side. 
V’ll stand by to fetch you up.” 

Gardiner understood all this perfectly, 


‘He is not to be | 


Qe 


| his officer. 
_ well was stopped in time, else would he 


THE 


. and did as he was desired todo. By keep- 
“ bg ing near the line he reached the shelf pre- 


cisely at the spot where Stimson was 


_ ready to meet him; the latter arresting 
__ his downward movement by throwing the 


weight of his own body forward to meet 
By such a precaution Ros- 


have gone over the shelf, and down a 


 declivity that was so nearly perpendicular 
as to offer no means of arresting the 


_ was the answer. 


movement. 

“And what has become of Captain 
Daggett ?’’ demanded Gardiner, as soon 
as he was on his feet again. 

“T fear he has shot off the rock, sir,” 
“At the place where I 
reached this shelf, it was so narrow I 


_ could with great difficulty walk—could 


to steady me; 


not, indeed, had not the line been there 


marks in the snow, 
gone down helpless !’? 
This was appalling intelligence to re- 


_ Ceive at such a time, and in such a place. 
_ But Roswell was not unmanned by it; on 


q great judgment. 


the contrary, he acted coolly, and with 
Making a coil of the 


" ratlin-stuff, he threw the line down until 
_ certain it reached bottom, at the distance 


of about six fathoms. 


Then he caused 


_ Stimson to brace himself firmiy, holding 


on to the line, aided by a turn round a 


tise in the rock, and he boldly lowered 


himself down the precipice, reaching its 


base at about the distance he had ceal- 
~ culated so to do. 


3 


It still snowed violently, the flakes be- 


) Ing large, and eddying round the angles 


_ of the rocks in flurries so violent as, at 
- moments, to confound all the senses of the 


- young man. 


He was resolute, however, 


_ and bent on an object of humanity, as 


_ well as of good fellowship. 


4 


Living or 
dead, Daggett must be somewhere on his 


_ present level; and he began to grope his 


; 


4 _ way among tine fragments of rock, eager 


and solicitous. The roaring of the wind 
_ almost prevented his hearing other sounds ; 
‘ Mieac once or twice he heard, or Pantie 


i: that he heard, the shouts of Stimson from 


‘ above. 


Suddenly the wind ceased, the 


a ‘snow lessened in quantity, soon clearing 


SHA LIONS. 


and, judging from the | 
the poor man has| 


131 


away altogether; and the ravs of the sun 


—and this in the dog-days of that region, 
be it remembered—fell bright and geniat 
on the glittering scene. At the next 
instant, the eyes of Roswell fell on the 
object of his search. 

Daggett had been carried over the nar - 
row shelf on which Stimson landed, in 
consequence of his having no support, or 
any means of arresting his momentum. 
He did thrust forward his lance, or leap- 
ing-staff; but its point met nothing but 
air. The fall, however, was by no means 
perpendicular, several projections of the 
rocks helping to lessen it; though it is 
probable that the life of the unfortunate 
sealer was saved altogether by means of 
the lance. This was beneath him as he 
made his final descent, and he slid alone 
it the whole length, canting him into a 
Spot where was the only piece cf stinted 
vegetation that was to be seen for a con- 
siderable distance. In consequence of 
coming down on a tolerably thick bunch 
of furze, the fall was essentially broken. 

When Roswell reached his unfortunate 
companion, the latter was perfectly sen- 
sibie and quite cool. 

‘*God be thanked that you have found 
me, Gar’ner,’’ he said, “at one time I 
had given it up.”’ 

‘‘Thank God, also, that you are living, 
my friend,’’ answered the other. ‘I ex- 
pected only to find your body; but you do 
not seem to be much hurt.’’ | 

‘‘More than appears, Gar’ner; more 
than appears. My left leg is broken, cer- 
tainly ; and one of my shoulders pains me 
a good deal, though it is neither out of 
joint nor broken. This’ is a sad business 
for a sealing v’y’ge! ”’ 

‘**Give yourself no concern about your 
craft, Daggett—I will look to her and to 
your voyage.”’ 

‘¢ Will you stand by the schooner, Gar’- 
ner ?—Promise me that, and my mind will 
be at peace.’’ 

“‘I do promise. The two vessels shail 
stick together, at all events until we are 
clear of the ice.’’ 

“Ay, but that won’t do. My Sea Lion 
must be filled up as well as your own. 
Promise me that.’’ 


132 


“Tt shall be done, God willing. But| 


here comes Stimson ; the first thing will 
be to get you out of this spot.” 

Daggett was obviously relieved by Ros- 
well’s pledges; for amid the anguish and 
apprehension of his unexpected state, his 
thoughts had most keenly adverted to his 
vessel and her fortunes. Now that his 
mind was somewhat relieved on this score, 
the pains of his body became more sensi- 
bly felt. The situation of our party was 
sufficiently embarrassing. The leg of 
Daggett was certainly broken, a little dis- 
tance above his ankle; and various bruises 
in other places gave notice of the existence 
of other injuries. To do anything with 
the poor man, lying where he was, was 
out of the question, however; and the 
first thing was to remove the sufferer to 
amore eligible position. Fortunately it 
was no great distance te the foot of the 
mountain, and a low, level piece of rock 
was accessible, by means of care and 
steady feet. Daggett was raised between 
Roswell and Stimson in a sitting attitude, 
and supporting himself by putting an arm 
around the neck of each. The legs hung 
down, the broken as well as the sound 
limb. To this accidental circumstance 
the sufferer was indebted to a piece of in- 
cidental surgery that proved of infinite 
service to him. While dangling in this 
manner the bone got into its place, and 
Daggett instantly became aware of that 
important fact, which was immediately 
communicated to Roswell. Of course the 
future mode of proceeding was regulated 
by this agreeable piece of information. 

Sailors are often required to act as phy- 
sicians, surgeons,*and priests. It is not 
often that they excel in either capacity ; 
but in consequence of the many things 
they are called to turn their hands to, it 
does generally happen that they get to 
possess a certain amount of address that 
renders them far more dexterous, in nearly 
everything they undertake, than the gen- 
erality of those who are equally strangers 
to the particular act that is thus to be ex- 
ercised. Roswell had set one or two limbs 
already, and had a tolerable notion of the 
‘manner of treating the case. Daggett 
was now seated on a rock at the base of 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


the mountain, with his legs still hanging 
down, and his back supported by another 
rock. No sooner was he thus placed than 
Stimson was dispatched, post-haste, for 
assistance. His instructions were full, 
and the honest fellow set off at a rate that 
promised as early relief as the circum- 
stances would at all allow. 

As for our hero, he set about his most 
important office the instant Stimson left 
him. Daggett aided with his counsel, and 
a little by his personal exertions; for a 
seaman does not lic down passively, when 
anything can be done, even in his own 
case. 

Baring the limb, Roswell soon satisfied 
himself that the bone had worked itself 
into place. Bandages were instantly ap- 
plied to keep it there while splints were 
making. It was, perhaps, a little charac- 
teristic that Daggett took out his knife 
and aided in shaving down these splints to 
the necessary form and thickness. They 


were made out of the staff of the broken | 


lance, and were soon completed, Roswell 
manifested a good deal of dexterity and 
judgment in applying the splints. The 
handkerchiefs were used to relieve the 
pressure in places, and rope-yarns from 


the ratlin-stuff furnished the means of se- 


curing everything in its place. In haif an 


hour, Roswell had his job completed, and 


that before there was much swelling to in- 
terfere with him. As soon as the broken 
limb was thus attended to, it was carefully 
raised and laid upon the rock along with 
its fellow, a horizontal position being 
deemed better than one that was perpen- 
dicular. ) ‘uy 

Not less than four painful hours now 
passed ere the gang of hands from the 
vessels reached the base of the mountain. 
It came prepared, however, to transport 
the sufferer on a handbarrow that had 
been used in conveying the skins of seal 
across the rocks. On this barrow Dag- 
gett was now carefuliy placed, when four 
men lifted him up and walked away with 
him for a few hundred yards. ‘These were 
then relieved by four more; and in this 


manner was the whole distance to the : 


house passed over. The patient was put 


in his bunk, and some attention was © 


: 


a THE 
owed on his bruises and other in- 


“Glad enough was the sufferer to find 
imself beneath a roof, and ina room that 
d its comforts; or what were deemed 
comforts on a sealing voyage. As the 
men were in the dormitory very little of 
she time except at night, he was enabled 
10 sleep ; and Roswell had hopes, as he 
now told Stimson, that a month or six 
weeks would set the patient on his feet 
again. 

“He has been a for uunate fellow, 
Stephen, that it was no worse,’’ added 
Roswell on that occasion. “‘ But for the 
luck which turned the lance-pole beneath 
hi im, every bone he has would have been 
broken. 4 

«What you call luck, Captain Gar’ner, 
eo Providence,’’? was Stephen’s an- 
si :. “The great book tells us that not 
4 sparrow shali fall without the eye of 
ivine Providence being on it. 33 


Ae 
D 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


“Now far he sweeps, where scarce a summer smiles, 

On Behring’s rocks, or Greenland’s naked isles ; 

Cold on his midnight watch the breezes blow, 

; a. wastes that slumber in eternal snow, 

And waft across the waves’ tumultuous roar, 

~The wolf's long howl from Oonalaska’s shore.”’ . 
i ' —CAMPBELL. 


_ RoswELL GARDINER set about his 
duties the succeeding day with a shade 
of deep reflection on his brow. A crisis 
had, indeed, come in his affairs, and it 
behooved him to look well to his proceed- 
ings. Daggett’s presence on the island 
was no longer of any moment to himself 
or his owner, but there remained the 
| Se cret of the key, and of the buried treas- 
ure. Should the two schooners keep to- 
zether, how was he to acquit himself in 
at part of his duty, without admitting 
01 a partnership, against which he knew 
that every fiber in the deacon’s system, 


SHA LIONS. 


132 


The chief mate of Daggett’s craft, 
though a good sealer, was an impetuous 
and reckless man, and had more than 
once found fault with the great precau- 
tions used, by the orders of Roswell. 
Macy, as the officer was called, was for 
making a regular onslaught upon the 
animals, slaying as many as they could 
at once, and then take up the business of 
curing and trying out as a regular job. 
He had seen such things done with suc- 
cess, and he believed it was the most 
secure mode of getting along. ‘‘Some 
of these fine mornings,’’ as he expressed 
it, ‘Captain Gar’ner would turn out 
and find that his herd was off—gone 
to pasture in some other field.’’ This was 
a view of the matter with which: Roswell 
did not at allagree. His forbearing and 
cautious policy had produced excellent re- 
sults so far, and he hoped -it would con- 
tinue so to do until both schooners were 
full. On the morning when the men next 
went forth, he as leader of both crews, 
therefore, our young master renewed his 
admonitions, pointing out to the new- 
comers, in particular, the great necessity 
there was of using forbearance, and not to 
alarm the seals more than the work indis-- 
pensably required. The usual number of 
‘‘ Ay, ay’s, sir!’ were given in reply. 
and the gangs went along the rocks, 
seemingly in a good humor to obey these 
injunctions. | 

Circumstances, however, were by no 
means favorable to giving Roswell the 
same influence over the Vineyardmen as 
he possessed over his own crew. He was 
a young commander, and this was his 


first voyage in that capacity, as all well 


knew; then there had been rivalry and 
competition between the two crafts, which 
was a feeling not so easily removed ; next, 
Macy felt and even intimated, that he was 
the lawful commander of his own schooner, 
in cases in which Daggett was disabled, 
and that the latter had no power to 
transfer him and his people to the author- 
ity of any other individual. All these 
points were discussed that day, with some | 
freedom, particularly among the Vine- 
yardmen, and especially the last. 
Wisely has it been said that ‘‘ the king’s 


134 WORKS 
name is a tower of strength.’’ They who 
have the law on their side carry with them 
a weight of authority that it is not easy 
to shake by means of pure reasoning on 
right or wrong. Men are much inclined 
te defer to those who are thus armed, 
legal control being ordinarily quite as 
effective in achieving a victory as having 
one’s ‘‘ quarrel just.’’ In a certain sense, 
authority indeed becomes justice, and we 
look to its proper exercise as one of the 
surest means of asserting what “is right 
between man and man.”’ 

«The commodore says that the critturs 
are to be treated delicately,’? said Macy, 
laughing, as he lanced his first seal that 
morning, a young one of the fur species; 
<‘so take up the pet, lads, and lay it in its 
cradle, while I go to look for its mamma.”’ 

A shout of merriment succeeded: this 
sally, and the men were only so much the 
more disposed to be rebellious and turbu- 
lent, in consequence of hearing so much 
freedom of remark in their officer. 

‘*The child’s in its cradle, Mr. Macy,’’ 
returned Jenkins, who was a wag as well 
as the mate. ‘‘ In my judgment, the best 
mode of rocking it to sleep will be by 
knocking over all these grim. chaps that 
are so plenty in our neighborhood.”’ 

«Let ’em have it!’ cried Macy, mak- 
ing an onset on an elephant, as he issued 
the order. In an instant the rocks at that 
point of the island were a scene of excite- 
ment and confusion. Hazard, who was 
near at hand, succeeded in restraining his 
own people, but it really seemed as if the 
Vineyard-men were mad. <A great many 
seals were killed, it is true; but twenty 
were frightened to take refuge in the 
ocean where one was slain. All animals 
have their alarm cries, or, if not absolute- 
ly cries, signals that are understood by 
themselves. Occcasionally, one sees a 
herd, or a flock, take to its heels, 
or to its wings, without any apparent 
cause, but in obedience to some warn- 
ing that is familiar to their instincts. 
Thus must it have been with the 
seals; for the rock was soon deserted, 
even at a distance of a league from the 
scene of slaughter, leaving Hazard and 
his gang literally with nothing to do, un- 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


less, indeed, they returned to complete 
some stowage that remained to be done 
on board their own craft. 

‘‘I suppose you know, Mr. Macy, all 
this is contrary to orders,”’ said Hazard, 
as he was leading his own gang back tow- 
ard the cove. ‘*‘ You see I am obliged to 
go in and report.”’ 

““Report and welcome,’’ was the an- 
swer. ‘‘I have no commander but Cap- 
tain Daggett :—and, by the way, if you 
see him, Hazard, just tell him we have 
made a glorious morning’s work of it.”’ 

“Ay, ay; you will have your hands 
full enough to-day, Macy; but how will it 
be to-morrow ? ”’ 

“Why, just as it has been to-day. The 
devils must come up to blow, and we’re 
sartin of ’em, somewhere along the shore. 
This day’s work is worth any two that 
I’ve seen since I came upon the island.”’ 

“‘Verv true; but what will to-morrow’s 
work be worth? I will tell Captain Dag- 
gett what you wish me to say, however, 
aud we will hear his opinion on the sub- 
ject. In my judgment, he means to com- 
mand his craft till she gets back to the 
hole, legs or no legs.”’ 

Hazard went his way, shaking his head 
ominously as he proceeded. Nor was he 
much mistaken in what he expected from 
Daggett’s anger. That experienced sealer 
sent for his mate, and soon gave him to 
understand that he was yet his com- 
mander. Loose and neighborly as is 
usually the discipline of one of these part- 
nership vessels, there is commonly a man 
on board who is every way competent to 
assert the authority given him by the 
laws, as well as by his contract. Macy 
was sent for, rebuked, and menaced with 
degradation from his station, should he 
again presume to violate his orders. As 
commonly happens in cases of this nature, 
regrets were expressed by the offender, 
and future obedience promised. 

But the mischief was done. Sealing was 
no longer the regular, systematic pursuit 
it had been on that island, but had be- 
come precarious and changeful. At times 
the men met with good success; then 
days would occur in which not a single 
creature of any of the different species 


29 


_ would be taken. The Vineyard schooner 
' was not more than half full, and the sea- 
son was fast drawing toa close. Roswell 
a > vas quite ready to sail, and he began to 
chafe a little under the extra hazards that 
Beere thus imposed on himself and his 
people. 
_ In the meantime, or fully three weeks 
after the occurrence of the accident to 
_ Dageott, the injuries received by the 
y ounded man were fast healing. The 
_ bones had knit, and the leg promised in 
another month to become tolerably sound, 
i not as strong as it had been before the 
9 hurt. All the bruises were well, and 
the captain of the Vineyard craft was 
at just beginning to move about a little on 
_ crutches ; a prodigious relief to one of his 
a “habits, iter the confinement to the house. 
_ By dint of great care he could work his 
b way down on the shelf that stretched 
4 ‘like a terrace, for two hundred yards be- 
heath the dwelling. Here he met Ros- 
well , on the morning of the Sabbath, just 
, Bcc weeks after their unfortunate visit 
‘tothe mountain. Each took his seat on 
a low point of rock, and they began to 
converse on their respective prospects, 
| and on the condition of their vessels and 
crews. Stephen was near his officer, as 
usual. 

_ “T believe Stimson was right in urging 
‘me to give the men their Sabbaths,’’ ob- 
served Gardiner, glancing round at the 
¢ different groups, in which men were wash- 
‘ing, shaving, and otherwise getting rid of 
the impurities created by another week 
of toil. ‘‘They begin anew, after a lit- 
tle rest, with a better will and steadier 
hands.”’ 

i “Yes, the Sabbath 7s a great privilege, 
especially to such as are on shore,’’ re- 
‘turned Daggett. “At sea I make no 
great account of it; a craft must jog 
along, high days or eontaea: . 

_ “Depend on it, the same account is kept 
| of the day, Captain Daggett, in the great 
log-book above, whether a man is on or 
off soundings,’’ put in Stephen, who was 
privileged ever to deliver his sentiments 
on such subjects. ‘The Lord is God on 
_ the sea as on the land.” 

_ There was a pause; for the, solemn 


4 a 


THK SEA LIONS. 


ship, and the flag is the flag. 


135 


manner and undoubted sincerity of the 
speaker produced an impression on his 
companions, little given as they were to 
thinking deeply on things of that nature. 
Then Roswell renewed the discourse, turn- 
ing it on a matter that had been seriously 
uppermost in his mind for several days. 

“T wish to converse with you, Cap- 
tain Daggett, about our prospects and 
chances,’’ he said. ‘‘ My schooner is full, 
as you know. We could do no more, if 
we stayed here another season. You are 
about half full, with a greatly diminished 
chance of filling up this summer. Mr. 
Macy’s attack on the seals has put you 
back a month, at least, and every day we 
shall find the animals less easy to take. 
The equinox is not very far off, and then, 
you know, we shall get less and less sun— 
so little as to be of no great use to us. 
We want daylight to get through the ice, 
and we shall have a long hundred leagues 
of it between us and clear water, even 
were we to get under way to-morrow. 
Remember what a serious thing it would 
be to get caught up here, in so high a 
latitude, after the sun has left us ! ”’ 

**T understand you, Gar’ner,’’ answered 
the other quietly, though his manner de- 
noted a sort of compelled resignation, 

rather than any cordial acquiescence in 
that which he believed his brother master 
intended to propose. ‘‘ You’re master of 
your own vessel; and I dare say Deacon 
Pratt would be much rejoiced to see you 
coming in between Shelter Island and 
Oyster Pond. I’m but a cripple, or I 
think the Vineyard craft wouldn’t be 
many days’ run astarn ! ”’ 

Roswell was provoked; but his pride 
was touched also. Biting his lip, he was 
silent for a moment, when he spoke very 
much to the point, but generously, and 
like a man. 

**T’ll tell you what it is, Daggett,’’ said 
our hero, ‘‘ good-fellowship is good-fellow- 
It is the 
duty of all us Yankee seamen to stand by 
the stripes; and [hope I’m as ready as 
another to do what I ought to do in such 
a matter; but my owner is a close calcu- 
lator, and [am much inclined to think 
that he will care less for this sort of feel- 


136 WORKS 


ing than you and I. The deacon wasnever 
in blue water.’’ 

“So I suppose. He has a charming 
daughter, I believe, Gar’ner ? ”’ 

«You mean his niece, I suppose,’’ an- 
swered Roswell, coloring. ‘‘The deacon 
never had any child himself, 1 believe—at 
least he has none living. Mary Pratt is 
his niece.”’ 

“‘Tt’s all the same—niece or daughter, 
she’s comely, and will be rich, I hear. 
Well, I am poor, and what is more, a 
cripple !”’ 

Roswell could have knocked his com- 
panion down, for he perfectly understood 
the character of the allusion; but he had 
sufficient self-command to forbear saying 
anything that might betray how much 
he ‘felt. 

It is always easier to work upon the 
sensitiveness of a spirited and generous- 
minded man than to influence him by force 
or apprehensions. Roswell had never liked 
the idea of leaving Daggett behind him, 
at that season, and in that latitude; and 
he relished it still less, now that he saw a 
false reason might be attributed to his 
conduct. 

“You certainly do not dream of winter- 
ing here, Captain Daggett?’’ he said, 
after a pause. 

“Not if I canhelpit. But the schooner 
can never go back to the Vineyard without 
a full hold. The very women would make 


the island too hot for us in such a case. 


Do your duty by Deacon Pratt, Gar’ner, 
and leave me here to get along as well as 1 
can. Ishall be able to walk a little in a 
fortnight ; and in a month I hope to be 
well enough to get out among the people, 
and regulate their sealing a little myself. 
Mr. Macy ve be more moderate with my 
eye on him.’ 

«‘A month! He who stays here an- 
other month may almost make up his 
mind to stay eight more of them; if, in- 
deed, he ever get away from the group at 
all! ’’ 

“A late start is better than a half- 
empty vessel. When you get in to Oys- 
ter Pond, Gar’ner, I hope you will send a 
line across to the Vineyard, and tell em 
all about us.’’ 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


Another long and brooding pause suc- 
ceeded, during which Roswell’s mind was 
made up. | 

“‘T will do this with you, Daggett,”’ he 
said, speaking like one who had fully de- 


cided on his course. ‘‘ Twenty days longer 
will [remain here, and help to make out 
your cargo; after which I sail, whether 
you get another skin or a thousand. ‘This 
will be remaining as long as any prudent 
manought to stay in so high a latitude.” 

“*Give me your hand, Gar’ner. I kne.v 
you had the clear stuff in you, and that it 
would make itself seen at the proper mo- 
ment. I trust that Providence will favor 
us—it’s really a pity to lose as fine a day 
as this; especially as the critturs are com- 
ing up on the Wi to bask something 
like old times.’ 

“You'll gain no great help from that 
Providence you just spoke of, Captain 
Daggett, by forgetting to keep ‘holy 
the Sabbath,’ ’’ said Stimson, earnestly. 
«Try forbearance a little, and find the 
good that will come of it.” ; 

“He is right,’ said Roswell, “as I 
know from having done as he advises. 
Well, our bargain is made. For twenty 
days longer I stay here, helping you to 
fillup. That will bring us close upon the 
equinox, when I shall get to the north- 
ward as fast as I can. In that time, too, 
I think you will be able to return to duty.’ 

This, then, was the settled arrangement. 
Roswell felt that he conceded more than 
he ought to do; but the feeling of good- 
fellowship was active within him, and he 
was strongly adverse to doing anything 
that might wear the appearance of aban- 


| doning a companion in his difficulties. All 


this time our hero was fully aware that he 
was becoming a competitor; and he was 
not without his suspicions that Daggett 
wished to keep him within his view until 
the visit had been paid to the key. 
Nevertheless, Roswell’s mind was made 
up. He would remain the twenty days, 
and do all he could in that time to help 
along the voyage of the Vineyarders. | 

The sealing was now continued with 
more order and method than had been 
observed under Macy’s control. The old 
caution. was respected, and the work pros- 


! 
q 


4 pe jered in proportion. Each night, on his 
Bourn to the house, Gardiner had a good 
report to make; and that peculiar snap- 
-— of the eye, that denoted Daggett’s 
| interest in his calling, was to be again 
_ traced in the expression of the Vineyard- 
_ er’s features; a certain proof that he was 
fast falling into his old train of thought 
and feeling. Daggett was never happier 
ee bhan when listening to some account of 
the manner in which an old elephant or 
tion had been taken, or a number of fur- 
seals had been made to pay their tribute 
t to the enterprise and address of his people. 
_As for Roswell, though he complied 
eo his promise, and carried on the duty 
with industry and success, his eye was 
constantly turned on those signs that de- 
note the advance of the seasons. Now he 
scanned the ocean to the northward, and 
noted the diminished number as well as 
le ssened size of the floating bergs; proofs 
that the summer and the waves heat been 
: at work on their sides. Next, his look 
Was on the sun, which was making: his 
: daily course lower and lower each time 
Bhat he appeared, settling rapidly away 
toward the north, asif in haste to quit a 
hemisphere that was so little congenial to 
his character. The nights, always cool in 
that region, began to menace frost; and 
the signs of the decline of the year that 
come so much later in more temperate 
Climates began to make themselves ap- 
Parent here. It is true, that of vegeta- 
tion there was so little, and that little so 
| ‘ eager and of so hardy a nature, that in 
this respect the progress of the seasons 
Was not to be particularly noted; but in 
all others Roswell saw with growing un- 
easiness that the latest hour of his depart- 
ure was fast drawing near. 

The sealing went on the while, and with 
enable returns, though the golden 
ays of the business had been seriously 
interapted by Macy’s indiscretion and 
isobedience. The men worked hard, for 
th they too foresaw the approach of the long 
nig cht of the antarctic circle, and all the 
risk of remaining too long. As we have 

had frequent occasion to use the term 
2 antarctic,” it may be well here to say a 
few words in explanation. It is not our 


‘ » 7 ; 
on 


an 
Pee 


THE SEA LIONS. 


137 


wish to be understood that these sealers 
had penetrated literally within that belt 
of eternal snows and ice, but approximat- 
ively. Few navigators, so far as our 
knowledge extends, have absolutely gone 
so far south as this. Wilkes did it, it is 
true ; and others among the late explorers 
have been equally enterprising and success- 
ful. The group visited by Gardiner on this 
occasion was quite near to this imaginary 
line ; but we do not feel at liberty precisely 
to give its latitude and longitude. To this 
hour it remains a species of private prop- 
erty ; and in this age of anti-rentism and 
other audacious innovations on _ long- 
received and venerable rules of conduct, 
we do not choose to be parties to any in- 
roads on the rights of individuals when 
invaded by the cupidity and ruthless 
power of numbers. Those who wish to 
imitate Roswell must find the islands by 
bold adventure, as he reached them; for 
we are tongue-tied on the subject. It is 
enough, therefore, that we say the group 
is near the antarctic circle; whether a 
little north or a little south of it is a 
matter of no moment. As those seas 
have a general character, we shall con- 
tinue to call them the antarctic seas; 
with the understanding that, included in 
the term, are the nearest waters without 
as well as within the circle. 

Glad enough was Roswell Gardiner 
when his twenty days were up. March 
Was now far advanced, and the approach 
of the long nights was near. The Vineyard 
craft was not full, nor was Daggett yet 
able to walk without a crutch; but orders 
were issued by Gardiner, on the evening 
of the last day, for his own crew to ‘knock 
off sealing,’’ and to prepare to get under 
way for home. 

‘* Your mind is made up, Gar’ner,’’ said 
Daggett, in a deprecating sort of way, as 
if he still had latent hopes of persuading 
his brother-master to remain a little 
longer. ‘‘ Another week would almost 
fill us up.”’ 

“Not another day,’’ was the answer. 
‘‘T have stayed too long already, and 
shall be off in the morning. If you will 
take my advice, Captain Daggett, you 
will do the same thing. Winter comes in 


138 WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


this latitude very much as spring appears 
in our own; or, with a hop, skip, and a 
jump. I have no fancy to be groping 
- about among the ice after the nights get 
to be longer than the days!”’ 

« All true enough, Gar’ner; all quite 
true—but it has such a look to take a 
craft home, and she not full! ”’ 

‘You have a great abundance of pro- 
visions; stop and whale awhile on the 
False Banks, as you go north. I would 
much rather stick by you there a whole 
month than remain here another day.”’ 

“You make me narvous talking of the 

group in this way! [’m sartain that this 
bay must remain clear of ice several weeks 
longer.”’ 
Perhaps it may; it is more likely to 
be so than to freeze up. But this will not 
lengthen the days and carry us safe 
through the fields and bergs that we 
know are drifting about out here to the 
northward. There’s a hundred leagues of 
ocean thereaway, Daggett, that I care for 
more just now than for all the seal that 
are left on these islands. But, talking is 
useless ; I go to-morrow ; if you are wise, 
you will sail in company.”’ 

This settled the matter. Daggett well 
knew it would be useless to remain with- 
out the aid of Roswell’s counsel, and 
that of his crew’s hands; for Macy was 
not to be trusted any more as the leader 
of a gang of sealers. The man had got 
to be provoked and reckless, and had: 
called down upon himself latterly more 
than one rebuke... It was _ necessary, 
therefore, that one of the Sea Lions 
should accompany the other. The neces- 
sary orders were issued accordingly, and 
“‘hey for home!’’ were the words that 
now cheerfully passed from mouth to 


mouth. That pleasant idea of ‘‘home,’” 


in which is concentrated all thatis blessed 
in this life, the pale of the Christian 
duties and charities excepted, brings to 
each mind its particular forms of happi- 
ness and good. The weather-beaten sea- 
man, the foot-worn soldier, the weary 
traveler, the adventurer in whatever 
lands interest or pleasure may lead, 
equally feels a throb in his heart as he 
hears the welcome sounds of “hey for 


home.’’ Never were craft prepared for 
sea with greater rapidity than was bec 
case now with our two Sea Lions. It is” 
true that the Oyster Ponders were nedral ? 
ly ready, and had been so for a fort-— 
night; but a good deal remained to be- 
done among the Vineyarders. The last 
set themselves to their task with a hearty 
good-will, however, and with correspond- 
ing results. f 

“We will leave the house standing 
for them that come after us,’? said Ros- 
weil, when the last article belonging to 
his schooner was taken out of it. “The 
deacon has crammed us so full of wood 
that I shall be tempted to throw half 
of it overboard, now we have so much 
cargo. Let all stand, Hazard, bunks, 
planks, and all; for really we have no 
room for the materials. Even this 
wood,’’ pointing to a pile of several 
cords that had been landed already to 
make room for skins and casks that had 
been brought out in shocks, “must go 
to the next comer. Perhaps it may be— 
to ourselves ; for we sailors never know 
what port will next fetch us up.’ 

“‘T hope it will be old Sag, sir,” answered — 
Hazard, cheerfully ; ‘‘ for, though no great — 
matter of a seaport, it is near every man’s 
home, and may be called a sort of door-— 
way to go in and out of the country 
through.”’ 

‘© A side-door, at the best,’? answered 
Roswell. ‘ With you, I trust it will be 
the next haven that we enter; though I 
shall take the schooner at once in behind 
Shelter Island, and tie her on to the. 
deacon’s wharf.”’ j 

What images of the past and future did 
these few jocular words awaken in the 
mind of our young sealer! He fancied — 
that he saw Mary standing in the porch — 
of her uncle’s habitation, a witness of the 
approach of the schooner, looking wistfully 
at the still indistinct images of those who — 
were to be seen on her decks. Mary had — 
often done this in her dreams; again and — 
again had she beheld the-white sails of the ~ 
Sea Lion driving across Gardiner’s Bay, — 
and entering Peconic; and often had she — 
thus gazed in the weather-worn coutiea 
nance of him who occupied so much of her : 


> » 
ba 
. 


L 
4 


THE SHA LIONS. 


thoughts—so many of her prayers—pictur- 
ing through the mysterious images of 
sleep the object she so well loved when 
waking. 

_ And where was Mary Pratt at that day 
and hour when Boswell was thus issuing 
his last orders at Sealer’s Land; and 
what was her occupation, and what her 
thoughts? The difference in longitude 
between the group and Montauk was so 
trifling that the hour might be almost 
called identical. Literally so, it was not; 
but mainly so, it was. There were not 
the five degrees in difference that make 
the twenty minutes in time. More than 
this we are not permitted to say on this 
subject; and this is quite enough to give 
the navigator a pretty near notion of the 
position of the group. As a degree of 
Jongitude measures less than twenty- 
eight statute miles at the polar circles, 
this is coming within a day’s run of the 
spot, so far as longitude is concerned ; and 
nearer than that we do not intend to carry 
the overanxious reader, let his curiosity 
be as lively as it may. 

_ And where, then, was Mary Pratt? 
Safe, well, and reasonably happy, in the 
house of her uncle, where she had passed 
most of her time since infancy. The 
female friends of mariners have always 
fruitful sources of uneasiness in the pur- 
suit itself; but Mary had no other cause 
for concern of this nature than what was 
inseparable from so long a voyage, and 
the sea into which Roswell had gone. 
‘She well knew that the time was arrived 
when he was expected to be on his way 
home; and as hope is an active and be- 
guiling feeling, she already fancied him 
to be much advanced on his return. But 
a dialogue which took place that very day 
—nay, that very hour—between her and 
the deacon will best explain her views and 
‘Opinions, and expectations. 

_ “It’s very extr’or’nary, Mary,”’ com- 
‘menced the uncle, ‘‘that Gar’ner doesn’t 
write! If he only know’d how a man 
feels when his property is ten thousand 
miles off, I’m sartain he would write, and 
not leave me with so many misgivings in 
the matter.’’ 


ry *‘ By whom is he to write, uncle?’ an- 


9 


+f, 


139 


swered the more considerate and reason- 
able niece. ‘‘ There are no post-offices in 
the antarctic seas, nor any travelers to 
bring letters by private hands.’’ 

‘“‘But he did write once; and plaguy 
good news was it that he sent us in that 
letter !”’ 

‘‘He did write from Rio, for there he 
had the means. By my calculations, Ros- 
well has left his sealing-ground some three 
or four weeks, and must now be as many 
thousand miles on his way home.’’ 

**D’ye think so, gal—d’ye think so? ”’ 
exclaimed the deacon, his eyes fairly 
twinkling with pleasure. ‘‘That would 
be good news; and if he doesn’t stop too 
long by the way, we might look for him 
home in less than ninety LAYS t from this 
moment ! ”’ 

Mary smiled pensively, and a richer 
color stole into her cheeks slowly, but 
distinctly. 

‘“‘T do not think, uncle, that Roswell 
Gardiner will be very likely to stop on his 
way to us here, on Oyster Pond,’’ was the 
answer she made. 

‘‘T should be sorry to think that. The 
best part of his v’y’ge may be made in 
the West Ingees, and I hope he is not a 
man to overlook his instructions.”’ 

‘¢ Will Roswell be obliged to stop in the 
West Indies, uncle !’’ 

‘‘Sartain—if he obeys his orders; and 
I think the young man will do that. But 
the business there will not detain him - 
long ’’—Mary’s countenance brightened 
again at this remark—‘‘ and, should you 
be right, we may still look for him in the 
next ninety days.’’ 

Mary remained silent for a short time, 
but her charming face was illuminated by 
an expression of heartfelt happiness, 
which, however, the next remark of her 
uncle’s had an obvious tendency to disturb. 

‘Should Gar’ner come home successful, 
Mary,”’ inquired the deacon; ‘‘ successful 
in all things—successful in sealing, and 
successful in that other matter—the West 
Ingee business, I mean—but successful in 
all, as I daily pray he may be—I want to 
know if you would then have him; always 
supposing that he got back himself un- 
changed ?”’ 


140 


‘Unchanged, I shall never be his wife,”’ 
answered Mary tremulously, but firmly. 

The deacon looked at her in surprise ; 
for he had never comprehended but one 
reason why the orphan and _ penniless 
Mary should refuse so pertinaciously to 
become the wife of Roswell Gardiner ; 
and that was his own want of means. 
Now the deacon loved Mary more than 
he was aware of himself, but he had 
never actually made up his mind to leave 
her the heiress of his estate. The idea of 
parting with property at all was too 
painful for him to think of making a 
will; and without such an instrument 
there were others who would have come 
in for a part of the assets, ‘“‘share and 
share alike,’’ as the legal men express it. 
Of all this was the deacon fully aware, 


and it occasionaliy troubled him ; more of. 


late than formerly, since he felt in his 
system the unerring signs of decay. 
Once had he got so far as to write on a 
page of foolscap, “In the name of God, 
Amen ;’’ but the effort proved too great 
for him, and he abandoned the undertak- 
ing. Still Deacon Pratt loved his niece, 
and was well inclined to see her become 
the wife of ‘“‘ young Gar’ner,’’ more espe- 
cially should the last return successful. 

‘‘Unchanged!”’ repeated the uncle, 
slowly; ‘“‘you sartainly would not wish 
to marrv him, Mary, if he was changed !”’ 

‘“‘T do not mean changed in the sense 
you are thinking of, uncle. But we will 
not talk of this now. Why should Ros- 
well stop in the West Indies at all? It 
is not usual for our vessels to stop there.”’ 

“No, itis not. If Gar’ner stop at all 
it will be on a very unusual business, and 
one that may make all our fortunes— 
your.n, as well as his’n and mine, Mary.”’ 

‘‘T hope that sealers never meddle with 
the transportation of slaves, uncle!’’ the 
girl exclaimed, with a face filled with ap- 
prehension. ‘‘I would rather live and 
die poor than have anything to do with 
them !’’ 

‘*T see no such great harm in the trade, 
gal; but such is not Roswell’s ar’nd in 
the West Ingees. It’s a great secret, the 
reason of his call there; and I will ven- 
ture to foretell that, should he make it, 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


and should it turn out successful, you will 
marry him, gal.’ i 

Mary made no reply. Well was she 
assured that Roswell had an advocate in 
her own heart that was pleading for him, 
night and day; but firm was her deter; 
mination not to unite herself with one, 
however dear to her, who set up his own 
feeble understanding of the nature of the 
mediation between God and man in oppo- 
sition to the plainest language of revela- 
tion, as well as to the prevalent belief of 
the church since the ages that immedi- 
ately succeeded the Christian era. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


‘‘ Poor child of danger, nursling of the storm, 
Sad are the woes that wreck thy manly form! 
Rocks, waves, and winds the shatter’d bark 

delay ; 
Thy heart is sad, thy home is far away.” 
--CAMPBELL. 


It was about midday when the two Sea 
Ivons opened their canvas, at the same 
moment, and prepared to quit Sealer’s 
Land. All hands were en board, every 
article was shipped for which there was 
room, and nothing remained that denoted 
the former presence of man on that dreary 
island but the deserted house and three or 
four piles of cord-wood, that had grown 
on Shelter Island and Martha’s Vineyard, 
and which was now abandoned on the 
rocks of the antarctic circle. <As the top- 
sails were sheeted home, and the heavy 
fore-and-aft mainsails were hoisted, the 
songs of the men sounded cheerful and 
animating. ‘‘ Home’ was in every tone, 
each movement, all the orders. Daggett 
was on deck, in full command, though 
still careful of his limb, while Roswell ap- 
peared to be everywhere. Mary Pratt 
was before his mind’s eye all that morn- 
ing; nor did he even once think how 
pleasant it would be to meet her uncle, 
with a “There, deacon, is your schooner, 
with a good cargo of elephant oil, ve 
chucked off with fur-seal skins.’ 

The Oyster Pond craft was the on 
clear of the ground. The breeze was lit 
tle felt in that cove, where usually it di¢ 


i; THE SHEA LIONS. 


| fbb seem to blow at all, but there was 
wind enough to serve to cast the schooner, 
and she went slowly out of the rocky 
7 basin under her mainsail, foretopsail, and 
jib. The wind was at southwest—the nor- 
§ wester of that hemisphere—and it was 
7 fresh and howling enough on the other 
" side of the island. After Roswell had 
q made a stretch out into the bay of about 
a mile, he laid his foretopsail flat aback, 
hauled over his jib-sheet, and put his 
helm hard down, in waiting for the 
_ other schooner to come out and join him. 
In a quarter of an hour Daggett got 
within hail. 
‘«‘Well,’’ called out the last, ‘‘ you see 
_I was right, Gar’ner; wind enough out 
here, and more, still further from the 
land. We have only to push in among 
them bergs while it is light, pick out a 
clear spot, and heave-to during the night. 
It will hardly do for ne travel among 
so much ice in the dark. 
| ‘‘[ wish we had got out earlier, that 
- we might have made a run of it by day- 
 light,”? answered Roswell. ‘‘Ten hours 
of such a wind, in my judgment, would 
_ carry us well toward clear water.’’ 
«The delay could not be helped. I had 
so many traps ashore, it took time to 
gather them together. Come, fill away, 
and let us be moving. Now we are under 
way, I’m in as great haste as you are 
_ yourself.’’ 
Roswell complied, and away the two 
~ gchooners went, keeping quite near to 
- each other, having smooth water, and 
still something of a moderated gale, in 
consequence of the proximity and weath- 
erly position of the island. The course 
was toward a spot to leeward, where the 
 jargest opening appeared in the ice, and 
_ where it was hoped a passage to the 
r northward would be found. .The further 
the two vessels got from the land, the 
more they felt the power of the wind, 
and the greater was their rate of run- 
ning. Daggett soon found that he could 
spare his consort a good deal of canvas, 
4 a consequence of his not being full, and 
he took in his topsail; though, running 
nearly before the wind, his spar would 
have stood even a more severe strain. 


« 


ead 


141 


As the oldest mariner, it had been 
agreed between the two masters that 
Daggett should lead the way. This he 
did for an hour, when both vessels were 
fairly out of the great bay, clear of the 
group altogether, and running off north- 
easterly, at a rate of nearly ten knots 
in the hour. The sea got up as they re- 
ceded from the land, and everything in- 
dicated a gale, though one of no great 
violence. Night was approaching, and an 
Alpine-like range of icebergs was glow- 
ing, to the northward, under the ob- 
lique rays of the setting sun. Tor a con- 
siderable space around the vessels, the 
water was clear, not even a cake of any | 
sort being to be seen; and the question 
arose in Daggett’s mind, whether he 
ought to stand on, or to heave-to and 
pass the night well to windward of the 
bergs. ; 

Time was precious, the wind was fair, 
the heavens clear, and the moon would 
make its appearance about nine, and might 
be expected to remain above the horizon 
until the return of day. This was one side 
of the picture. The other presented less 
agreeable points. The climate was so 
fickle that the clearness of the skies was 
not to be depended on, especially with a 
strong southwest wind—a little gale, in 
fact ; anda change in this particular might 
be produced at any moment. Then it was 
certain that floes, and fragments of bergs, 
would be found near, if not absolutely 
among the sublime mountain-like piles 
that were floating about, in a species of 
grand-fleet, some twenty miles to leeward. 
Both of our masters, indeed all on board 
of each schooner, very well understood 
that the magnificent array of icy islands 
which lay before them was owing to the 
currents, for which it is not always easy 
to account. The clear space was to be 
attributed to thesame cause, though there 
was little doubt that the wind, which had 
now been to the southward. fully eight- 
and-forty hours, had contributed to drive 
the icy fleet to the northward. As a conse- 
quence of these facts, the field-ice must be 
in the vicinity of the bergs, and the em- 
barrassment from that source was known 
always to be very great. 


142 


It required a good deal of nerve for a 
mariner torun in among dangers of the 
character just described, as the sun was 
setting. Nevertheless, Daggett did it; 
and Roswell Gardiner followed the move- 
ment, at the distance of about a cable’s 
length. To prevent separation, each 
schooner showed a light at the lower 
yardarm, just as the day was giving out 
its last glimmerings. As yet, however, 
no difficulty was encountered ; the Alpine- 
looking range being yet quite two hours’ 
run still to leeward. Those two hours 
must be passed in darkness ; and Daggett 
shortened sail in order not to reach the ice 
before the moon rose. He had endeavored 
to profit by the light so long as it re- 
mained, to find a place at which he might 
venture to enter among the bergs, but he 
had met with no great success. The 
opening first seen now appeared to be 
closed, either by means of the drift or 
by means of the change in the position of 
the vessels; and he no longer thought 
of that. Fortune must be trusted to, in 
some measure; and on he went, Roswell 
always closely following. 

The early hours of that eventful night 
~were intensely dark. Nevertheless, Dag- 
-gett stood down toward the icy range, 
‘using no other precautions than shorten- 
ing sail and keeping a sharp lookout. 
Every five minutes the call from the quar- 
‘ter-deck of each schooner to ‘‘keep a 
bright lookout’? was heard, unless, in- 
deed, Daggett or Roswell was on his own 
own forecastle, thus occupied in person. 
No one on board either vessel thought of 
sleep. The watch had been called, as is 
usual at sea, and one-half of the crew was 
at liberty to go belowand turn in. What 
was more, those small fore-and-aft rigged 
craft were readily enough handled by a 
single watch; and this somuch the more 
easily, now that their topsails were in. 
Still, not a man left the deck. Anxiety 
was too prevalent for this, the least ex- 
perienced hand in either crew being well 
aware that the next four -and - twenty 
hours would in all human probability be 
decisive of the fate of the voyage. 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


to rise drew near without the orb of night } 
making its appearance. A few clouds were 
driving athwart the heavens, though the 
stars twinkled as usual, in their diminu- 
tive but sublime splendor. It was not so 
dark that objects could not be seen ata 
considerable distance; and the people of © 
the schooners had no difficulty in very dis- 
tinctly tracing, and that not very far 
ahead, the broken outlines of the chain of 
floating mountains. No Alpine pile, in 
very fact, could present a more regular 
or better defined range, and in some re- 
spects more fantastic outlines. When the 
bergs first break away from their native 
moorings, their forms are ordinarily some- 
what regular; the summits commonly 
resembling tableland. This regularity of 
shape, however, is soon lost under the rays 
of the summer sun, the wash of the ocean, 
and most of all by the wear of the torrents 
that gush out of their own frozen bosoms. 
A distinguished navigator of our own 
time has compared the appearance of 
these bergs, after their regularity of shape 
is lost, and they begin to assume the fan- 
tastic outlines that uniformly succeed, to 
that of a deserted town, built of the purest 
alabaster, with its edifices crumbling un- 
der the seasons, and its countless un- 
peopled streets, avenues, and alleys. All 
who have seen the sight unite in describ- 
ing it as one of the most remarkable that 
comes from the lavish hand of Nature. 
About nine o’clock on the memorable 
night in question there was a good deal 
of fog driving over the ocean to increase 
the obscurity. This rendered Daggett 
doubly cautious, and he actually hauled 


up close to the wind, heading off well to 


the westward, in order to avoid running 
in among the bergs in greater uncertainty 
than the circumstances would seem to 
require. Of course Roswell followed the 
movement; and, when the moon first dif- 
fused its mild rays on the extraordinary 
scene, the two schooners were pitching 
into a heavy sea, within less than a mile 
of the weather-line of the range of bergs. 
It was soon apparent that floes or field- 
ice accompanied the floating mountains, 


Both Daggett and Gardiner grew more | and extended so far to the southward of 
and more uneasy as the time for the moon! them as to be already within an incon- 


_ 


THE 


enient, if not hazardous, proximity to 
e two vessels. These floes, however, 
like those previously encountered, were 
uch broken by the undulations of the 
ves, and seldom exceeded a quarter of 
rs ile in diameter; while thousands of 
a em were no larger than the ordinary 


t Their vicinity to the 
track of the schooners, indeed, was first 
Bevertainea by the noise they produced in 
grinding against each other, which soon 
made itself audible even among the roar- 
ing of the gale. 

- Both of our masters now began to be 
“exceedingly uncomfortable. It was soon 
“quite apparent that Daggett had been too 
Bere, and had led down toward the ice 
without sufficient caution and foresight. 
_As'the moon rose higher and higher the 
" ‘difficulties and dangers to leeward became 
at each minute more and more apparent. 

othing could have been more magnifi- 
Pont than the scene which lay before the 
eyes of the mariners, or would have pro- 
duced a deeper feeling of delight, had it 


4 


“Hime of a freshet. 


the risk the two schooners and all who 
Be re in them unavoidably ran by being so 
near and to windward of such an ice 
coast, if one may use the expression as 
relates to floating bodies. By that light 
it was very easy to imagine Wilkes’ pict- 
ure of a ruined town of alabaster. There 
_were arches of all sizes and orders; pin- 
“nacles without number ; towers, saa even 
“statues and columns. "To these were to 
be added long lines of perpendicular walls, 
‘that it was easy enough to liken to fort- 
-resses, dungeons, and temples. Ina word, 
“even the Alps, with all their peculiar 
grandeur, and certainly on a scale so 
vastly more enlarged, possess no one 
aspect that is so remarkable for its re- 
‘semblance to the labors of man, composed 
of a material of the most beautiful trans- 
‘parency, and, considered as the results of 
human ingenuity, on a scale so gigantic. 
‘The glaciers have often been likened, and 
‘hot unjustly, to a frozen sea; but here 
were congealed mountains Wekitinntig 
hewed into all the forms of art, not 


SHA LIONS. 


4 not been for the lively consciousness of. 
/to be short, though violent. 


143. 


of the unerring laws which produced 
them. 

Perhaps Roswell Gardiner was the 
only individual in those two vessels that 
night who was fully alive to all the extra- 
ordinary magnificence of its unusual pict- 
ures. Stephen may, in some degree, have 
been an exception to the rule; though he 
saw the hand of God in nearly all things. 
“It’s wonderful to look at, Captain Gar’- 
ner, isn’t it?’’ said this worthy seaman, 
about the time the light of the moon 
began to tell on the view; ‘‘ wonderful, 
truly, did we not know who made it all!’ 
These few and simple words had a cheer- 
ing influence on Roswell, and served to 
increase his confidence in eventual suc- 
cess. God did produce all things, either 
directly or indirectly ; this even his scep- 
tical notions could allow; and that which 
came from divine wisdom must be in- 
tended for good. He would take courage, 
and for once in his life trust to Provi- 
dence. The most resolute man by nature 
feels his courage augmented by such a 
resolution. 

The gales of the antarctic sea are said. 
They seldom. 
last six-and-thirty hours, and for about a 
third of that time they blow with their 
greatest violence. As a matter of course, 
the danger amid the ice is much increased. 
by a tempest; though a good working’ 
breeze, or small gale of wind, perhaps, 
adds to a vessel’s security, by rendering 
it easier to handle her, and to avoid floes 
and bergs. If the ice is sufficient to make 
a lee, smooth water is sometimes a conse- 
quence; though it oftener happens that 
the turbulence produced in clear water is 
partially communicated over a vast sur- 
face, causing the fields and mountains to 
grind against each other under the resist- 
less power of the waves. On the present 
occasion, however, the schooners were 
still in open water, where the wind had a. 
long and unobstructed rake, and a sea. 
had got up that caused both of the little 
craft to bury nearly to their gunwales. 
What rendered their situation still more 
unpleasant was the fact that all the water 
which came aboard of them now soon 


Ml the chisel it is true, but by the action | troze. To this, however, the men were 


144 WORKS 


accustomed, it frequently happening that 
the moisture deposited on the rigging and 
spars by the fogs froze during the nights 
of the autumn. Indeed, it has been 
thought by some speculators on the sub- 
ject, that the bergs themselves are formed 
in part by asimilar process, though snows 
undoubtedly are the principal element in 
their composition. This it is which gives 
the berg its stratified appearance, no 
geological formation being more apparent 
or regular in this particular than most of 
those floating mountains, 

About ten, the moon was well above the 
horizon ; the fog had been precipitated in 
dew upon the ice, where it congealed, and 
helped to arrest the progress of dissolu- 
tion; while the ocean became luminous 
for the hour, and objects comparatively 
distinct. Then it was that the seamen 
first got a clear insight into the awkward- 
ness of their situation, The bold are apt 
to be reckless in the dark; but when dan- 
ger is visible, their movements become 
more wary and better calculated than 
those of the timid. When Daggett got 
this first good look at the enormous masses 
of the field-ice, that, stirred by the un- 
quiet ocean, were grinding each other, and 
raising an unceasing, rushing sound, like 
that the surf produces on a beach, though 
far louder, and with a hardness in it that 
denoted the collision of substances harder 
than water, he almost instinctively ordered 
every sheet to be flattened down, and the 
schooner’s head brought as near the wind 
as her construction permitted. Roswell 
observed the change in his consort’s line 
of sailing, slight as it was, and imitated 
the maneuver. The sea was too heavy to 
dream of tacking, and there was not room 
to wear. So close, indeed, were some of 
the cakes, those that might be called the 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


; 
point whether the schooners could or could’ 
not eat their way into the wind sufficiently 


to weather the danger. Fragment after 
fragment was passed; blow after blow 
was received ; until suddenly the field-ice 
appeared directly in front. It was in vast 
quantities, extending to the southward as’ 
far as the eye could reach. There re- 
mained no alternative but to attempt to 
wear. Without waiting longer than to as- 
sure himself of the facts, Daggett ordered 
his helm put up and the main gaff low- 
ered. At that moment both the schoon- 
ers were under their jibs and foresails, 
each without its bonnet, and double-reefed 
mainsails. This was not canvas very fa- 
vorable for wearing, there being too much 
after-sail; but the sheets were attended 
to, and both vessels were soon driving 
dead to leeward, amid the foam of a latge 
wave; the next instant ice was heard 
grinding along their sides. 

It was not possible to haul up on the 
other tack ere the schooners would be sur- 


rounded by the floes; and seeing a com-— 


| paratively open passage a short distance 


ahead, Daggett stood in boldly, followed 
closely by Roswell. In ten minutes they 
were fully a mile within the field, render- 
ing allattempts to get out of it to wind- 
ward so hopeless as to be almost des- 
perate. 
begun under circumstances that scarcely 


The maneuver of Daggett was 


admitted of any alternative, though it 


might be questioned if it were not the 


best expedient that offered. Now that the 


schooners were so far within the field-ice 
the water was much less broken, though 


the undulations of the restless ocean were — 


still considerable, and the grinding of 


ice occassioned by them was really terri-— 


fic. So loud was the noise produced by 


these constant and violent collisions, in-— 


b 


deed, that the roaring of the wind was 
barely audible, and that only at intervals. — 
The sound was rushing, like that of an in-— 
cessant avalanche, attended by cracking — 
noises that resembled the rending of a 
glacier. : 

The schooners now took in their fore-— 
sails, for the double purpose of diminish-— 
ing their velocity and of being in a better | 
condition to change their course, in order 


stragglers of the grand array, that re- 
peatedly each vessel brushed along so 
near them as actually to receive slight 
shocks from collisions with projecting por- 
tions. It was obvious that the vessels 
were setting down upon the ice, and that 
Daggett did not haul his wind a moment 
too soon. 

The half hour that succeeded was one 
of engrossing interest. It settled the 


THE 


‘\to avoid dangers ahead. These changes 
‘\of course were necessarily frequent ; but, 
by dint of boldness, perseverance, and 
| skill, Daggett worked his way into the 
| Heh mparatively open passage already men- 
__ tioned. It was a sort of river amid the 
_ floes, caused doubtless by some of the 
inexplicable currents, and was fully a 
_ quarter of a mile in width, straight as an 
| _air-line, and of considerable length ; 
though how long could not be seen by 
- moonlight. It led, moreover, directly 
down toward the bergs, then distant less 
| thana mile. Without stopping to ascer- 
tain more, Daggett stood on, Roswell 
_ keeping close on his quarter. In ten min- 
utes they drew quite near to that wild 
and magnificent ruined city of alabaster 
_ that was floating about in the antarctic 
sea! 
a Notwithstanding the imminent peril 
that now most seriously menaced the two 
a schooners, it was not possible to approach 
; that scene of natural grandeur without 
feelings of awe that were allied quite as 
; 4 much to admiration as to dread. Appre- 
;: hensions certainly weighed on every 
% heart; but curiosity, wonder, even de- 
light, ene all mingled in the breasts of 
2 the crews. As the vessels came driving 
7 down into the midst of the bergs, every- 
a ens contributed to render the move- 
q ments imposing in all senses, appalling in 
one. There lay the vast maze of floating 
- mountains, generally of a spectral white 
at that hour, though many of the masses 
§ emitted hues more pleasing, while some 
were black as night. The passages be- 
a tween the bergs, or, what might be termed 
9 the streets and lanes of this mysterious- 
x looking, fantastical, yet sublime city of 
_ the ocean, were numerous, and of every 
_ variety. Some were broad, straight ave- 
_ hues, a league in length; others winding 
_ and narrow; while a good many were 
little more than fissures, that might be 
fancied lanes. 
oy The schooners had not run a league 
within the bergs before they felt much 
less of the power of the gale; and the 
_ heaving and setting of the seas were sen- 
 sibly diminished. What was, perhaps, 
not to be expected, the field-ice had disap- 


SHA LIONS. 


145 


peared entirely within the passages of the 
bergs, and the only difficulty in navigat- 
ing was to keep in such channels as had 
outlets, and which did not appear to be 
closing. The rate of sailing of the two 
schooners was now greatly lessened, the 
mountains usually intercepting the wind, 
though it was occasionally heard howling 
and scuffling in the ravines, as if in a hur- 
ry to escape and pass on to the more open 
seas. The grinding of the ice, too, came 
down in the currents of air, furnishing 
fearful evidence of dangers that were not 
yet distant. As the water was now suffi- 
ciently smooth, and the wind, except at 
the mouths of particular ravines, was 
light, there was nothing to prevent the 
schooners from approaching each other. 
This was done, and the two masters held a 
discourse together on the subject of their 
present situation. wa 

“ You’re a bold fellow, Daggett, and 
one I should not like to follow in a voyage 
round the world,’’ commenced Roswell. 
‘* Here we are, in the midst of some hun- 
dreds of ‘icebergs; a glorious sight to 
behold, 1 must confess—but are we ever 
to get out again ?”’ 

‘‘Tt is much better to be here, Gar’ner,”’ 
returned the other, “‘than to be among 
the floes. I’m always afraid of my starn 
and my rudder when among the field-ice ; 
whereas there is no danger: hereabouts 
that cannot be seen before a vessel is on 
it. Give me ny eyes, and I feel that | 
have a chance.”’ — 

«‘There is some truth in Haine but I 
wish these channels were a good deal 
wider than they are. A man may feela 
berg as well as see it. Were two of these 
fellows to take it into their heads to close 
upon us, our little craft would be crushed 
like nuts in the crackers ! ’’ 

‘We must keep a good lookout for 
that. Here seems to bea long bit of open 
passage ahead of us, and it leads as near 
north as we can wish to run. If we zan 
only get to the end of it, I shall feel as if 
half our passage back to Ameriky was 
made.’ 

The citizen of the United States calls 
his country “‘ America,’”’ par excellence, 
never using the addition of “North,” as 


146 WORKS 


is practiced by most European people. 
Daggett meant “‘home,”’ therefore, by 
his ‘‘ Ameriky,’’ in which he saw no other 
than the east end of Long Island, Gardi- 
der’s Island, and Martha’s Vineyard. 
Roswell understood him, of course; so no 
breath was lost. 

‘In my judgment,’ returned Gardiner, 
““we shall not get clear of this ice for a 
thousand miles. Not that I expect to be 
in a wilderness of it, as we are to-night ; 
but, after such a summer, you may rely 
on it, Daggett, that the ice will get as far 
north as 45°, if nota few degrees further.’ 

‘It is possible; I have seen it in 42° 
myself; and in 40° to the nor’ard of the 
equator. If it gets as far as 50°, however, 
in this part of the world, it will do pretty 
well That will be play to what we have 
just here In the name of Divine Provi- 
dence, what is that, Gar’ner ? ”’ 

Not a voice was heard in either vessel : 
scarcely a breath was drawn. <A heavy 
groaning sound had been instantly suc- 
ceeded by such a plunge into the water as 
might be imagined to succeed the fall of a 
iragment from another planet. Then all 
the bergs near by began to rock as if 
agitated by an earthquake. This part of 
the picture was both grand and frightful. 
Many of those masses rose above the sea 
more than two hundred feet perpendicu- 
larly and showed wall-like surfaces of half 
a league in length. At the point where 
the schooners happened to be just at that 
moment, the ice-islands were not so large, 
but quite as high, and consequently were 
more easily agitated. While the whole 
panorama was bowing and rocking, pin- 
nacles, arches, walls, and all seeming 
about to totter from their bases, there 
came a wave sweeping down the passage 
that lifted them high in the air, some fifty 
feet at least, and bore them along like 
pieces of cork fully a hundred yards. 
Other waves succeeded, though of less 
height and force; when gradually the 
water regained its former and more nat- 
ural movement, and subsided. 

“This has been an earthquake !’’ ex- 
claimed Daggett. <“*That volcano has 
been pent up, and the gas is stirring up 
the rocks beneath the sea.’’ 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


‘“No, sir,’’ answered Stimson, from the 
forecastle of his own schooner, “it’s not 
that, Captain Daggett. 
bergs has turned over, 
wallowing, and it has set all the others 
a-rocking..”’ 


yf 


. 


, 


One of them 
like a whale | 


This was the true explanation; one that 


did not occur to the less experienced seal- 
ers. Itis a danger, however, of no rare 


occurrence in the ice, and one that ever — 


needs to be looked to. The bergs, when 
they first break loose from their native 
moorings, which is done by the agency of 
frosts, as well as by the action of the séa- 
sons in the warm months, are usually tabu- 
lar, and of regular outlines ; but this shape 
is soon lost by the action of the waves on 
ice of very different degrees of consist- 
ency; some being composed of frozen 


snow, some of the moisture precipitated — 


from the atmosphere in the shape of fogs, 
and some of pure frozen water. The first 
melts soonest; and a berg that drifts for 
any length of time with dne particular face 
exposed to the sun’s rays, soon loses its 
equilibrium, and is canted with an inclina- 
tion to the horizon. Finally the center of 
gravity gets outside of the base, when 
the still monstrous mass rolls over in the 
ocean, coming literally bottom upward. 
There are all degrees and varieties of 
these ice-slips, if one may so term them, 
and they bring in their train the many 


different commotions that such accidents ~ 


would naturally produce. That which 
had just alarmed and astonished our navi- 
gators was of the following character. A 
mass of ice that was about a quarter of a 
mile in length, and of fully half that 
breadth, which floated quite two hundred 
feet above the surface of the water, and 
twice that thickness beneath it, was the 
cause of the disturbance. 
served its outlines unusually well, and 
stood upright to the last moment ; though, 
owing to numerous strata of snow-ice, its 
base had melted much more on one of its 
sides than on the other. When the pre- 
cise moment arrived that would have ¢car- 
ried a perpendicular line from the center 
of gravity without this base, the monster 
turned leisurely in its lair, producing some 
such effect as would have been wrought 


It had pre- 


ier F ¢ a a © 


‘by the falling of a portion of a Swiss 
fountain into a lake; a sort of accident 
oi which there have been many and re- 
_ markable instances. 
| timson’s explanation, while it raised 
_ the curtain from all that was mysterious, 
‘did not serve very much to quiet appre- 
hhensions. If one berg had _ performed 
‘such an evolution, it was reasonable to 
‘suppose that others might do the same 
thing; and the commotion made by this, 
which was at a distance, gave some in- 
‘sight into what might be expected from 
a similar change in another nearer by. 
Both Daggett and Gardiner were of opin- 
jon that the fall of a berg of equal size 
within a cable’s length of the schooners 
‘might seriously endanger the vessels by 
dashing them against some wall of ice, if 
in no other manner. It was too late, how- 
ever, to retreat, and the vessels stood on 
gallantly. 
_ The passage between the bergs now be- 
came quite straight, reasonably broad, 
and was so situated as regarded the gale 
_as to receive a full current of its force. It 
‘was computed that the schooners ran 
_ quite three marine leagues in the hour that 
succeeded the overturning of the berg. 
There were moments when the wind blew 
furiously ; and, taking all the accessories 
of that remarkable view into the account, 
the scene resembled one that the imagina- 
tion might present to the mind inits high- 
est flights, but which few could ever hope 
to see with their proper eyes. The moon- 
light, the crowd of icebergs of all shapes 
_and dimensions, seeming to flit past by the 
‘rapid movements of the vessels ; the vari- 
_ €ty of hues, from spectral white to tints of 
orange and emerald, pale at that hour, 
yet distinct ; streets and lanes that were 
—searce opened ere they were passed ; to- 
_ gether with all the fantastic images that 
“such objects conjured to the thoughts, 
contributed to make that hour much the 
most wonderfulthat Roswell Gardiner had 
ever passed. To add to the excitement, a 
couple of whales came blowing up the pas- 
Sage, coming within a hundred yards of 
the schooners. They were fin-backs, 
— are rarely it ever taken, and were 
i 


Suffered to pass unharmed. To capture a 
ony 


THE SHA LIONS. 


147 


whale, however, amid so many bergs, 
would be next to impossible, unless the 
animal were killed by the blow oi the 
harpoon, without requiring the keener 
thrust of the lance. 

At the end of the hour mentioned, the 
Sea Lion of the Vineyard rapidly changed 
her course, hauling up by a sudden move- 
ment to the westward. The passage be- 
fore her was closed, and there remained 
but one visible outlet, toward which the 
schooner slowly made her way, having 
got rather too much to leeward of it, in 
consequence of not earlier seeing the 
necessity for the change of course in that 
dim and deceptive light. Roswell, being 
to windward, had less difficulty, but, not- 
withstanding, he kept his station on his 
consort’s quarter, declining to lead. The 
passage into which Daggett barely suc- 
ceeded in carrying his schooner was fear- 
fully narrow, and appeared to be fast 
closing ; though it was much wider fur- 
ther ahead, could the schooners but get 
through the first dangerous strait. Ros- 
well remonstrated ere the leading vessel 
entered, and pointed out to Daggett the 
fact that the bergs were evidently clos- 
ing, each instant increasing their move- 
ment, most probably through the force of 
attraction. It is known that ships are 
thus brought in contact in calms, and it 
is thought a similar influence is exercised 
on the icebergs. At all events, the wind, 
the current, or attraction, was fast clos- 
ing the passage through which the 
schooners had now to go. 

Searcely was Daggett within the chan- 
nel, when an enormous mass fell from the 
summit of one of the bergs, literally clos- 
ing the passage in his wake, while it com- 
pelled Gardiner to put his helm down, and 
to tack ship, standing off from the totter- 
ing berg. The scene that followed was 
frightful! The cries on board the leading 
craft denoted her peril, but it was not 
possible for Roswell to penetrate to her 
with his vessel. All he could do was to 
heave-to his own schooner, lower a boat, 
and pull back toward the point of danger. 
This he did at once, manfully, but with 
an anxious mind and throbbing heart. He 
actually urged his boat into the chasm 


148 WORKS 


beneath an arch in the fallen fragment, 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


1 


adventurers. As week succeeded week 


and made his way to the very side of Dag- | and the vessel did not return, the concern 


gett’s vessel. The last was nipped again, 
and that badly, but was not absolutely 
lost. The falling fragment from the berg 
alone prevented her, and all in her, from 
being ground into powder. This block, of 
enormous size, kept the two bergs asun- 
der; and now that they could not abso- 
lutely come. together, they began slowly 
to turn in the current, gradually opening 
and separating, at the very point where 
they had so lately seemed attracted to a 
closer union. In an hour the way was 
clear, and the boats towed the schooner 
stern foremost into the broader passage. 


CHAPTER XxX. 


** A voice upon the prairies, 
A cry of woman’s woe, 
That mingleth with the autumn blast 
All fitfully and low.” 
—MRS. SIGOURNEY. 


THE accident to the Sea Lion of the 
Vineyard occurred very near the close of 
the month of March, which, in the south- 
ern hemisphere, corresponds to our month 
of September. This was somewhat late 
for a vessel to remain in so high a latitude, 
though it was not absolutely dangerous to 
be found there several weeks longer. We 
have given a glance at Mary Pratt and 
her uncle about this time; but it has now 
become expedient to carry the reader for- 
ward for a considerable period, and take 
another look at our heroine and her 
miserly uncle some seven months later, 
In that interval a great change had come 
over the deacon and his niece, and hope 
had nearly deserted all those who had 
friends on board the Sea Lion of Oyster 
Pond, as the following explanation will 
show was reasonable and to be expected. 

When Captain Gardiner sailed it was 
understood that his absence would not 
extend beyond a single season. All who 
had friends and connections on board his 
schooner had been assured of this, and 
great was the anxiety, and deep the dis- 
appointment, when the first of our own 
summer months failed to bring back the 


increased, until hope began to be lost 
in apprehension. Deacon Pratt groaned 
in spirit over his loss, finding little conso- 
lation in the gains secured by means of 
the oil sent home, as is apt to be the case 


' with the avaricious when their hearts are 


once set on gain. As for Mary, the load 
on her heart increased in weight, as it 
might be, day by day, until those smiles, 
which had caused her sweet countenance 
to be radiant with innocent joy, entirely 
disappeared, and she was seen to smile no 
more. Still complaints never passed her 
lips. She prayed much, and found all 
her relief in such pursuits as comported 
with her feelings, but she seldom spoke of 
her grief ; never, except at weak moments, 
when her querulous kinsman introduced 
the subject in his frequent lamentations 
over his losses. 

The month of November is apt to be 
stormy on the Atlantic coasts of the re- 
public. It is true that the heaviest gales 
do not then occur, but the weather is gen- 
erally stern and wintry, and the winds are 
apt to be high and boisterous. Ata place 
like Oyster Pond the gales from the ocean 
are felt with almost as much power as on 
board a vessel at sea; and Mary became 
keenly sensible of the change from the 
bland breezes of summer to the sterner 
blasts of autumn. As for the deacon, his 
health was actually giving way before 
anxiety, until the result was getting to be 
a matter of doubt. Premature old age 
appeared to have settled on him, and his 
niece had privately consulted Dr. Sage on 
his case. The excellent girl was grieved 
to find that the mind of her uncle grew 
more worldly, his desires for wealth more 
grasping, as he was losing his hold on life, 
and was approaching nearer to that hour 
when time is succeeded by eternity. All 
this while, however, Deacon Pratt “kept 
about,’’ as he expressed it himself, and 
struggled to look after his interests, as 
had been his practice through life. He col- 
lected his debts, foreclosed his mortgages 
when necessary, drove tight bargains for 
his wood and other salable articles, and 
neglected nothing that he thought would 


« 
= 


— a= # 


THE SEA LIONS. 


tend to increase his gains. Still his heart 


was with his schooner, for he had expected 


uch from that adventure, and the disap- 


: pointment was in proportion to the former 
hopes. | 


One day near the close of November the 
deacon and his niece were alone together 


"in the “ keeping-room ”’—as it was, if it be 
not still, the custom among persons of 


New Engiand origin to call the ordinary 
sitting apartment—he bolstered up in an 
easy chair, on account of increasing in- 


 firmities, and she plying the needle in her 


ner’s Island? 


a a neon 


lingering remains of covetousness. 


customary way. The chairs of both were 
so placed that it was easy for either to 
look out upon that bay, now of a wintry 
aspect, where Roswell had last anchored 
previously to sailing. 

‘«“What a pleasant sight it would be, 
uncle,’’ Mary, almost unconsciously to 
herself, remarked, as, with tearful eyes, 
she sat gazing intently on the water, 
‘could we only awake and find the Sea 
Lion at anchor under the point of Gardi- 
I often fancy that such 
may be—nay, must be the case yet; but 
it never comes to pass! I would not tell 
you yesterday, for you did not seem to be 
as well as common, but I have got an 
answer, by Baiting Joe, to my letter sent 
across to the Vineyard.”’ 

_ The deacon started and half turned his 
body toward his niece, on whose face his 
own sunken eyes were now fastened with 
almdést ferocious interest. It was the 
love of Mammon stirring within him the 
He 
thought of his property, while Mary 
thought of those whose lives had been 
endangered if not lost, by the unhappy 
adventure. The latter understood the 
look, however, so far as to answer its 
inquiry in her usual gentle, feminine voice. 

*“‘T am sorry to say, sir, that no news 
has been heard from Captain Daggett or 
any of his people,’? was the sad reply to 
this silent interrogatory. ‘‘No one on 


the island has heard a word from the 


Vineyard vessel since the day before she 
sailed from Rio. There is the same un- 
easiness felt among Captain Daggett’s 
friends, as we feel for poor Roswell. They 


think, however, that the two vessels have 


149 


kept together, and believe that the same 
fate has befallen both.”’ 

‘‘Heaven forbid !’’ exclaimed the dea- 
con as sharply as wasting lungs would 
allow ; “‘ Heaven forbid! If Gar’ner has 
let that Daggett keep in his company an 
hour longer than was necessary, he has 
deserved to meet with shipwreck, though 
the loss always falls heaviest on the own- 
ers.”’ 

«Surely, uncle, it is more cheering to 
think that the two schooners are together 
in those dangerous seas, than to imagine 
one, alone, left to meet the risks, without 
a companion ! ”’ 

‘You talk idly, gal—as women always 
talk. If you know’d all, you wouldn’t. 
think of such a thing.”’ 

«“So you have said often, uncle, and L 
fear there is some mystery preying all 
this time on your spirits. Why not re- 
lieve your mind, by telling your troubles. 
to me? I am your child in affection, if 
not by birth.”’ 

‘«You’re a good gal, Mary,’’ answered 
the deacon, a good deal softened by the 
plaintive tones of one of the gentlest 
voices that ever fell on human ear; “an 
excellent creatur’ at the bottom—but of 
course you know nothing of the sealing: 
business, and next to nothing about tak- 
ing care of property.”’ 

«‘T hope you do not think me wasteful, 
sir? That is a character I should not like. 
to possess.” 

«No, not wasteful; on the contrary, 
curful (so the deacon pronounced the 
word) and considerate enough, as to. 
keeping, but awfully indifferent as to 
getting. Had I been as indifferent as: 
you are yourself, your futur’ days would 
not be so comfortable and happy as they 
are now likely to be, a’ter my departure 
—if depart I must.’ 

‘“My future life happy and comfort- 
able !’’? thought Mary; then she strug- 
gled to be satisfied with her lot, and 
contented with the decrees of Providence. 
‘‘Tt is but a few hours that we live in this 
state of trials, compared to the endless 
existence that is to succeed it.”’ 

«‘T wish I knew all about this voyage 
of Roswell’s,’’ she added, aloud ; for she 


150 
was perfectly certain that there was 
something to be told that, as yet, the 
deacon had concealed from her. “ It 
might relieve your mind, and lighten 
your spirits of a burden, to make me a 
confidant. ’’ 

The deacon mused in silence for more 
than. five minutes. Seldom had _ his 
tnoughts gone over so wide a reach of 
interests and events in so short a space 
of time; but the conclusion was clear 
and decided. 

“You ought to know all, Mary, and 
you shall know all,’? he answered, in 
the manner of a man who had made 
up his mind beyond appeal. ‘“‘ Gar’ner 
has gone a’ter seal to some islands that 
the Daggett who died here, about a year 
and a half ago, told me of; islands of 
which nobody know’d anything, accord- 
ing to his account, but himself. His ship- 
mates, that saw the place when he saw it, 
were all dead, afore he let me into the 
secret.”’ 

“I have long suspected something of 
the sort, sir, and have always supposed 
that the people of Martha’s Vineyard had 
got some news of this place, by the man- 
ner in which Captain Daggett has acted.” 

“‘Isn’t it wonderful, gal? Islands, they 
tell me, where a schooner can fill up with 
ile and skins in the shortest season in 
which the sun ever shone upon an ant- 
arctic summer! Wonderful! wonder- 
fale? 

‘‘ Very extraordinary, perhaps; but we 
should remember, uncle, at how much risk 
the young men of the country go on these 


distant voyages, and how dearly their | 


profits are sometimes bought.”’ 
“Bought! If the schooner would only 
come back, I should think nothing of all 
that. It’s the cost of the vessel and outfit, 
Mary, that weighs so much on my spirits. 
Well, Gar’ner’s first business is with them 
islands, which are at an awful distance for 
one to trust his property; but, ‘nothing 
ventured, nothing got,’ they say. By my 
calculations, the schooner has had to Fx0) 
a good five hundred miies among the ice 
to get to the spot; not such ice as a body 
falls in with, in going and coming between 
England and Ameriky, as we read of in 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


| the papers, but ice that covers the sea as 


we sometimes see it piled up in Gar’ner’s 
Bay, only a hundred times higher, and 
deeper, and broader, and colder! - It’s 
desperate cold ice, the sealers all tell me, 
that of the antarctic seas. 
think it’s colder down south than it is the 
other way, up toward Greenland and Ice- 
land itself. It’s extr’or’nary, Mary, that 


’ 


. 


+ 


Some on ’em | 


the weather should grow cold as a body — 


journeys south; but so it is, by all ac- 
counts. I never could understand it, and 
it isn’t so in Ameriky, ’m sartin. I sup- 
pose it must come of their turning the 
months round, and having their winter in 
the midst of the dog-days. I never could 
understand it, though Gar’ner has tried. 
more than once, to reason me into it. I 
believe, but I don’t understand.’ 


“Tt is all told in my geography here,” 


answered Mary, mechanically taking down 
the book, for her thoughts were far away 
in those icy seas that her uncle had been 
so graphically describing. ‘I dare say 
we can find it all explained in the element- 
ary parts of this book.’’ 

“They do make their geographies use- 
ful, nowadays,’’ said the deacon, with 
rather more animation than he had shown 
before that morning. ‘‘ They’ve got ’em 
to be now almost as useful as almanacs. 
Read what it says about the seasons, 
child.’’ 


' “Tt says, sir, that the changes in the- 


seasons are owing to ‘the inclination of 
the earth’s axis to the plane of its orbit.’ 
I do not exactly understand what that 
means, uncle.”’ 

“No; it’s not as clear as it might be. 
The declination—’’ 

‘* Inclination, sir, is what is printed 
here.”’ 

“Ay, inclination. I do not see why 
any one should have much inclination for 
winter, but so it must be, I suppose. The 
‘’arth’s orbit has an inclination toward 
changes,’ you say.”’ 

“The changes in the seasons, sir, are 
owing to ‘the inclination of the earth’s 
axis to the plane of its orbit.’ It does not 


say that the orbit has an inclination in | 


any particular way.”’ 
Thus was it with Mary Pratt, and thus 


was it with her uncle, the deacon. One of 
\e plainest problems in natural philoso- 
ay was Hebrew to both, simply because 
e capacity that Providence had so freely 
j be estowed on each had never been turned 
_to the consideration of such useful 
studies. But, while the mind of Mary 
- Pratt was thus obscured on this simple, 
and, to such as chose to give it an hour of 
| reflection, perfectly intelligible proposi- 
tion, it was radiant as the day on another 
mystery, and one that has confounded 
‘ thousands of the learned, as wellas of the 
' unlearned. ‘Vo her intellect nothing was 
i slearer, no moral truth more vivid, no 
physical fact more certain, than the in- 
carnation’ of the Son of God. She had the 
_ “evidence of things not seen,’’ in the full- 
“ness of Divine grace; and was profound 
on this, the greatest concern of human 
life, while unable even to comprehend how 
the ‘‘inclination of the earth’s axis to the 
plane of its orbit’? could be the cause of 
the change of the seasons. And was it 
thus with her uncle ?—he who was a pillar 
5 of the “meeting,” whose name was often 
_ in men’s mouths asa “ shining light,’’ and 
_ who had got to be identified with religion 
in his own neighborhood to a degree that 
Based most persons to think of Deacon 
Pratt when they should be thinking of the 
Saviour? We are afraid he knew as little 
of one of these proportions as of the other. 
me It’s very extr’or’nary,’’ resumed the 
. ‘deacon, after ruminating on the matter 
jetor afew moments, “‘ but I suppose it 7s 
‘so. Wasn’t it for this ‘inclination’: to 
cold weather, our vessels might go and 
_ seal under as pleasant skies as we have 
herein June. But, Mary, I suppose that 
wasn’t to be, or it would be.”’ 

“There would have been no seals, most 
likely, uncle, if there was no ice. They 
tell me that such creatures love the cold, 
G ‘and the ice, and the frozen oceans. Too 
much warm weather would not suit 
einem,’’ 

- But, Mary, it might suit other folks ! 
Gar’ner’s whole ar’nd isn’t among the 
ice, or a’ter them seals.’’ 

JT do not know that I understand you, 
sir. Surely Roswell has gone on a seal- 


ing voyage.” 


THE SHA LIONS. 


151 


‘‘Sartain; there’s no mistake about 
that. But there may be many stopping- 
places in so long a road.”’ 

‘“Do you mean, sir, that he is to use 
any of these stopping-places, as you call 
them ?”’ asked Mary, eagerly, half-breath 
less with her anxiety to hear all. ‘‘ You 
said something about the West Indies 
once.”’ 

‘¢ Harkee, Mary—just look out into the 
entry and see if the kitchen door is shut. 
And now come nearer to me, child, so 
that there may be no need of bawling 
what I’ve got to say allover Oyster Pond. 
There, sit down, my dear, and don’t look 
so eager, aS if you wanted to eat me, or 
my mind may misgive me, and then I 
couldn’t tell you, a’ter all. Perhaps it 
would be best, if Iwas to keep my own 
secret.”’ 

‘‘Not if it has anything to do with Ros- 
well, dear uncle; not if it has anything to 
do with him! You have often advised 
me to marry him, and I ought to know all 
about the man you wish me to marry.”’ 

«Yes, Gar’ner will make a right good 
husband for any young woman, and I do 
advise you to have him. You are my 
brother’s da’ghter, Mary, and I give you 
this advice, which I should give you ali the 
same, had you been my own child, instead 
of his’n.”’ 

‘Yes, sir, 1 know that. But what 
about Roswell, and his having to stop, on 
his way home ?”’ 

‘«¢ Why, you must know, Mary, that this 
v’y’ge came altogether out of that seaman 
who died among us, last year. I was kind 
to him, as you may remember, and helped 
him to many little odd comforts ’’—odd 
enough were they, of a verity—‘‘and he 
was grateful. Of all virtues, give me 
gratitude, say I! It is the noblest, as it 
is the most oncommon of all good qual- 
ities. How little have I met with in my 
day! Of all the presents I have made, 
and gifts bestowed, and good acts done, 
not one in ten has ever met with any 
gratitude.” 

Mary sighed : for well did she know how 
little he had given, of his abundance, to 
relieve the wants of his fellow-creatures. 
She sighed, too, with a sort of mild impa- 


152 WORKS 


tience, that the information she sought 
with so much eagerness was so long and 
needlessly delayed. But the deacon had 
made up his mind to tell her all. 

“Yes, Gar’ner has got something to 
do besides sealing,’’ he resumed of himself, 
when his regret at the prevalence of in- 
gratitude among men had exhausted it- 
Self. ‘‘Suthin’’’—for this was the way 
he pronounced that word —*that is of 
more importance than the schooner’s hold 
full of ile. Tle is ile, I know, child ; but 
gold is gold. What do you think of that 2”? 

‘Is Roswell, then, to stop at Rio again, 

in order to sell his oil, and send the re- 
_ ceipts home in gold?” 

‘“‘ Better than that—much better than 
that, if he gets back at all.” Mary felt a 
chill at her heart. ‘‘Yes, that is the 
pint—if he gets back at all. If Gar’ner 
ever does come home, child, I shall expect 
to see him return with a considerable sized 
keg—almost a barrel, by all accounts— 
filled with gold !’’ 

The deacon stared about him as he made 
this announcement, like a man who was 
afraid that he was telling toomuch. Nev- 
ertheless, it was to his own niece, his 
brother’s daughter, that he had confided 
thus much of his great secret—and reflec- 
tion reassured him. 

“‘ How is Roswell to get all this gold, 
uncle, unless he sells his cargo ? ”’ Mary 
asked, with obvious solicitude. 

“That’s another p’int. I’ll tell you all 
about it, gal, and you’ll see the impor- 
tance of keeping the secret. This Dag- 
gett—not the one who is out in another 
schooner, another Sea Lion, as it might 
be, but his uncle, who died down here at 
the Widow White’s—well, that Daggett 
told more than the latitude and longitude 
of the sealing islands—he told me of a 
buried treasure! ”’ | 

“Buried treasure !—Buried by whom, 
and consisting of what, uncle? ”’ 

“Buried by seamen who make free with 
the goods of others on the high seas, ag’ in 
the time when they might come back and 
dig it up, and carry it away to be used. 
Consisting of what, indeed! Consisting 
principally, accordin’ to Dagegetit’s ac- 
count, of heavy doubloons ; though there 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


was a lot of old English guineas pnoed 
‘em. Yes, I remember that he spoke of 
them guineas—three thousand and odd 
and nearly as many doubloons ! ” 

“Was Daggett, then, a pirate, sir ?—_ 
for they who make free with the goods of 
others on the high seas are neither more 
nor less than pirates.’’ 

‘‘No; not he, himself, He got this se- 
cret from one who was a pirate, however, — 
and who was a prisoner in a jail where he 
was himself confined for smuggling. 
Yes; that man told him all about the 
buried treasure, in return for some acts 
of kindness shown him by Daggett. It 
is well to be kind sometimes, Mary.”’ 

‘It is well to be kind always, sir; even 
when it is misunderstood, and the kind- 
ness is abused. What was the redemp- 
tion but kindness and love, and god-like — 
compassion on those who neither under- 
stood it nor felt it? But money collected 
and buried by pirates can never become — 
yours, uncle ; nor can it ever become th 
property of Roswell Gardiner.” 

“Whose is it, then, gal?’? demanded 
the deacon, sharply. “‘ Gar’ner had some 
such silly notion in his head when I first 
told him of this treasure ; but I soon 
brought him to hear reason.”? 

“Tl think Roswell must always have 
seen that a treasure obtained by robbery 
can never justly belong to any but its 
rightful owner.’’ 

“And who is this rightful owner, pray ? 
or owners, I might say; for the gold was 
picked up, here and there, out of all ques- 
tion, from many hands. Now, supposing . 
Gar’ner gets this treasure, as I stil] hope — 
he may, though he is an awful time about 
it—but suppose he gets it, how is he to ‘ 
find the rightful owners? There it is, a _ 
bag of doubloons, say—all looking just 
alike, with the head of a king, a Don Some- 
body, and the date, and the Latin and 
Greek—now who can say that ‘ this is my 
doubloon ; I lost it at such a time—it was 
taken from me by such a pirate, in such a 
sea; and I was whipped till I told the 
thieves where I had hid the gold?’ No, 
no, Mary; depend on’t, no action of *plevy 
would lie ag’in a single one of all them 
pieces. They are lost, one and all, to their 


€ 
1@ 


\ 


_ that succeeds in getting hold of ’em ag’in; 
who will become a rightful owner in his 
| turn. All property comes from law ; and 
if the law won’t ’plevy money got in this 
| yey. nobody can maintain a claim to it.’’ 
_ JT should be very, very sorry, my dear 
uncle, ‘df meee Roswell enrich himself in 
this way.’ 
1 ~ “You talk like a silly young woman, 
and one that doesn’t know her own rights. 
We had no hand in robbing the folks of 
_ their gold. They lost it years ago, and 
ey be dead—probably are, or they would 
make some stir about it—or have forgot- 
y fon it, and couldn’t for their lives tell a 
single one of the coins they once had in 
their possession ; and don’t know whether 
_ what they lost was thrown into the sea, or 
_ buried in the sand ona key. Mary, child, 
you must never mention anything I tell 
you on this subject ! ”’ 
— You need fear nothing, sir, from me. 
_ But I do most earnestly hope Roswell will 
have nothing to do with any such ill-got- 
ten wealth. He is too noble-hearted and 
_ generous to get rich in this way.” 
» ‘Well, well, say no iwore about it, 
child; you’re romantic and _ notional. 
Just pour out my drops; for all this talk- 
ing makes me breathe thick. [’m not 
what I was, Mary, and cannot last long ; 
“but was it the last breath I drew, I would 
stand to it, that treasure desarted and 
found in this way belongs to the last 
holder. I go by the law, however; let 
Gar’ner only find it—well, well, I’ll say 
no more about it now; for it distresses 
- you, and that I don’t like to see. Go, 
and hunt up the ‘Spectator,’ child, and look 
for the whaling news—perhaps there may 
be suthin’ about the sealers, too.” 
_ Mary did not require to be told twice to 
do as her uncle requested. The paper 
a ‘was soon found, and the column that con- 
‘ tained the marine intelligence consulted. 
4 ‘The niece read a long account of whalers 
spoken, with so many hundred or so many 
thousand barrels of oil on board, but 
could discover no allusion to any sealer. 
At length she turned her eyes into the 
body of the journal, which being semi- 
_ weekly, or tri-weekly, was crowded with 


ey 
Pe 


THE SEA LIONS. 


153 


{ fo rmer owners, and will belong to the man | matter, and started at seeing a paragraph 


to the following effect : 

“By the arrival of the Twin Sisters 
at Stonington, we learn that the ice has 
been found farther north in the southern 
hemisphere this season than it has been 
known to be for many years. The seal- 
ers have had a great deal of difficulty in 
making their way through it; and even 
vessels bound round the Cape of Good 
Hope have been much embarrassed by 
its presence.’’ 

‘“That’s it!—Yes, Mary, that’s just 
it! ’’ exclaimed the deacon. ‘‘It’s that 
awful ice. If ’twasn’t for the ice, sealin’ 
would be as pleasant a calling as preach- 
in’ the gospel! It is possible that this 
ice has turned Gar’ner back, when he has 
been on his way home, and that he has 
been waiting for a better time to come 
north. There’s one good p’int in this 
news—they tell me that when the ice is 
seen drifting about in low latitudes, it’s a 
sign there’s less of it in the higher.’’ 

‘«“The Cape of Good Hope is certainly, 
in one sense, in a low latitude, uncle; if I 
remember right, it is not as far south as 
we are north; and, as you say,‘it 1s a 
good sign if the ice has come anywhere 
near it.’’ 

‘7 don’t say it has, child; [don’t say it 
has. But it may have come to the north- 
ward of Cape Horn, and that will be a 
great matter; for all the ice that is drift- 
ing about there comes from the polar seas, 
and is so much taken out of Gar’ner’s 
track:?’ 

‘Still he must come through it to get 
home,”’ returned Mary, in her sweet, mel- 
ancholy tones. ‘‘ Ah! why cannot men 
be content with the blessings that Provi- 
dence places within our immediate reach, 
that they must make distant voyages to 
accumulate others! ”’ 

“You like your tea, I fancy, Mary 
Pratt—and the sugar in it, and your silks 
and your ribbons that I’ve seen you wear ; 
how are you to get such matters if there’s 
to be no going on v’y’ges? Tea and 
sugar, and silks and satins don’t grow 
along with the clams on ‘’Yster Pond’ ”’ 
—for so the deacon uniformly pronounced 
the word ‘‘oyster.”’ 


154 


- Mary acknowledged the truth of what 
was said, but changed the subject. The 
journal contained no more that related to 
sealing or sealers, and it was soon laid 
aside. 

“It may be that Gar’ner is digging for 
the buried treasure all this time,’’ the 
deacon at length resumed. ‘‘ That may 
be the reason he is so late. Ifso, he has 
nothing to dread from ice.”’ 

‘‘JT understand you, sir, that this money 
is Supposed to be buried on a key—in the 
West Indies, of course.’’ 

“Don’t speak so loud, Mary—there’s 
no need of letting all ’Yster Pond know 
where the treasure is. It may bein the 
West Ingees, or it may not; there’s keys 
all over the ’arth, I take it.’’ 

**Do you not think, uncle, that Roswell 
would write, if detained long among those 
keys ?”’ 

“You wouldn’t hear to post-offices in 
the antarctic ocean, and now you want to 
put them on the sand-keys of the West 
Ingees! Woman’s always a sailin’ ag’in 
wind and tide.”’ 

‘‘J do not think so, sir, in this case, at 
least. There must be many vessels pass- 
ing among the keys of the West Indies, 
and nothing seems to me to be easier 
than to send letters by them. Iam quite 
sure Roswell would write, if ina part of 
the world where he thought what he wrote 
would reach us.’? 

‘*Not he—not he—Gar’ner’s not the 
man [ take him for, if he let any one know 
what he is about in them keys, until he 
had done up all his business there. No, 
no, Mary. We shall never hear from him 
in that quarter of the world. It may be 
that Gar’ner is a-digging about, and has 
difficulty in finding the place; for Dag- 
get’s account had some weak spots in it.”’ 

Mary made no reply, though she 
thought it very little likely that Roswell 
would pass months in the West Indies 
employed in such a pursuit, without find- 
ing the means of letting her know where 
he was, and what he was about. The 
intercourse between these young people 
was somewhat peculiar, and ever had 
‘been, In listening to the suit of Roswell, 
Mary had yielded to her heart ; in hesitat- 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


ing about accepting him, she deferred to 
her principle. 


pled mother—is of the last importance to 
the character and well-being of a young | 
woman. It sometimes happens, however, 


that a female who has no parent of her 


Usually, a mother—not a 
managing, match-making, interested pa- 


rent, but a prudent, feminine, well-princi-— 


own Sex, and who is early made to be de- 


pendent on herself, if the bias of her mind > 


is good, becomes as careful and prudent 


of herself and her conduct, as the advice 


and solicitude of the most tender mother — 


could make her. Such had been the case 
with Mary Pratt. Perfectly conscious of 
her own deserted situation, high princi- 
pled, and early awake to the defects in 
her uncle’s character, she had laid down 
severe rules for the government of her 
own conduct; and from these rules she 
never departed. 


Thus it was that she 


permitted Roswell to write, though she — 


never answered his letters. She permitted 
him to write, because she had promised 
not to shut her ears to his suit, so long as 
he practiced toward her his native and 
manly candor; concealing none of his 
opinions, and confessing his deficiency on 
the one great point that formed the only 
obstacle to their union. 

A young woman who has no mother, if 
she escapes the ills attendant on the pri- 
vation while her character is forming, is 


very apt to acquire qualities that are of © 


great use in her future life. 
rely on herself, gets accustomed to think 
and act like an accountable being, and is 


She learns to © 


far more likely to become a reasoning and — 


useful head of a family, than if brought 
up in dependence, and under the control 


of even the best maternal government. — 


In a word, the bias of the mind is sooner 
obtained in such circumstances than when 
others do so much of the thinking; 
whether that bias be in a right or a 
wrong direction. But Mary Pratt had 
early taken the true direction in all that 
relates to opinion and character, and had 
never been wanting to herself in any of 


the distinctive and discreet deportment 


of her sex. 
Our heroine hardly knew whether or 
not to seek for consolation in her uncle’s 


" 


t 


| 


j 


suggestion of Roswell being detained 
among the keys, in order to look for the 
hidden treasure. The more she reflected 
on this subject, the more did it embarrass 
her. Few persons who knew of the exist- 
ence of such a deposit would hesitate 
_ about taking possession of it, and, once 
_ reclaimed, in what way were the best 
| a intentions to be satisfied with the disposi- 
tion of the gold? To find the owners 
_ would probably be impossible; and a 
4 ~ question in casuistry remained. Mary 
_ pondered much on this subject, and came 
to the conclusion that, were she the per- 
son to whom such a treasure were com- 
mitted, she would set aside a certain 
‘ period for advertising ; and failing to dis- 
cover those who had the best claim to the 
, money, that she would appropriate every 
g dollar to a charity. 
_ Alas! Little did Mary understand the 
world. The fact that money was thus 
advertised would probably have brought 
me forward a multitude of dishonest pretend- 
4 ers to having been robbed by pirates; and 
- scarce a doubloon would have found its 
way into the pocket of its rightful owner, 
~ even had she yielded all to the statements 
of such claimants. 
¥ All this, however, did not bring back 
* the missing Roswell. Another winter was 
fast approaching, with its chilling stormis 
and gales, to awaken apprehensions by 
keeping the turbulence of the ocean, as it 
might be, constantly before the senses. 
‘ Not a week now passed that the deacon 
- did not get a letter from some wife, or 
% parent, or sister, or perhaps from one who 
hesitated to avow her relations to the ab- 
- sent mariner; all inquiring after the fate 
of those who had sailed in the Sea Lion of 
_ Oyster Pond, under the orders of Captain 
_ Roswell Gardiner. 
__ _Kven those of the Vineyard sent across 
questions, and betrayed anxiety and dread, 
_ in the very manner of putting their inter- 
 rogatories. Each day did the deacon’s ap- 
_ prehensions increase, until it was obvious 
 toall around him that this cause, united 
_ to others that were more purely physical, 
# perhaps, was seriously undermining his 
health, and menacing his existence. It is 
ih 
a sad commentary on the greediness for 


i 


. 
cay 
Le. 


THE SHA LIONS. 


155 


gain manifested by this person, that ere 
the adventure he had undertaken on the 
strength of Daggett’s reluctant communi- 
cations was brought to any apparent re- 
sult, he himself was nearly in the condition 
of that diseased seaman, with as little 
prospect of being benefited by his secrets 
as was the man himself who first communi- 
cated their existence. Mary saw all this: 
clearly, and mourned almost as much over 
the blindness and worldliness of her uncle 
as she did over the now nearly assured 
fate of him whom she had so profoundly 
loved in her heart’s core. 

Day by day did time roll on, without — 
bringing any tidings of either of the Sea 
Inons. The deacon grew weak fast, until 
he seldom left his room, and still more 
rarely the house. It was now that he 
was induced to make his will, and this by 
an agency so singular as to deserve being: 
mentioned. The Rev. Mr. Whittle 
broached the subject one day, not with 
any interested motive of course, but sim- 
ply because the ‘‘ meeting-house ’’ wanted 
some material repairs, and there was a 
debt on the congregation that it might be 
a pleasure to one who had long stood in 
the relation to it that Deacon Pratt filled, 
to pay off, when he no longer had any oc- 
casion for the money for himself. It is 
probable the deacon at length felt the jus- 
tice of this remark; for he sent to River- 
head for a lawyer, and made a will that 
would have stood even the petulant and 
envious justice of the present day; a jus- 
tice that inclines to divide a man’s estate 
infinitesimally, lest some heir become a 
little richer than his neighbors. After 
all, no small portion of that which struts 
about under the aspects of right, and 
liberty, and benevolence, is in truth 
derived from some of the most sneaking 
propensities of human nature ! 


156 WORKS 


CHAPTER XXI. 


“J, too, have seen thee on thy surging path, 
When the night-tempest met thee; thou didst 
dash 
‘Thy white arms high in heaven, as if in wrath, 
Threatening the angry sky; thy waves did lash 
The laboring vessel, and with deadening crash 
Rush madly forth to scourge its groaning sides; 
Onward thy billows came, to meet and clash 
In a wild warfare, till the lifted tides 
Mingled their yesty tops, where the dark storm- 
cloud rides.’?—PERCIVAL. 


THE first movement of the mariner, 
when nis vessel has been brought in col- 
lision with any hard substance, is to 
sound the pumps. This very necessary 
duty was in the act of performance by 
Daggett, in person, even while the boats 
of Roswell Gardiner were towing his 
strained and roughly-treated craft into 
the open water. The result of this exam- 
ination was waited for by all on board, 
including Roswell, with the deepest anx- 
iety. The last held the lantern by which 
the height of the water in the well was to be 
ascertained ; the light of the moon scarce 
sufficing for such a purpose. Daggett 
stood on the top of the pump himself, while 
Gardiner and Macy were at its side. At 
length the sounding-rod came up, and its 
lower end was held out, in order to ascer- 
tain how high up it was wet. 

“Well, what do you make of it, Gar’- 
ner?’’ Daggett demanded, a little im- 
patiently. ‘‘ Water there must be; for 
no craft that floats could have stood such 
a Squeeze, and not have her sides open.’’ 

“There must be near three feet of 
water in your hold,’’ answered Roswell, 
shaking his head. ‘‘If this goes on, Cap- 
tain Daggett, it will be hard work to keep 
your schooner afloat !”’ 

“Afloat she shall be, while a pump- 
break can work. Here, rig this larboard 
pump at once, and get it in motion.”’ 

‘It is possible that your seams opened 
under the nip, and have closed again, as 
soon as the schooner got free. In sucha 
case, ten minutes at the pump will let us 
know it.”’ 

Although there is no duty to which sea- 
men are SO averse as pumping—none, per- 
haps, that is actually so exhausting and 
laborious—it often happens that they have 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


.| recourse to it with eagerness, as the only 
available means of saving their lives. — 


Such was now the case, the harsh but 
familiar strokes of the pump-break being 
audible amid the more solemn and grand 
sounds of the grating of icebergs, the 
rushing of floes, and the occasional scuff- 
ling and howling of the winds. The last 
appeared to have changed in their direc- 
tion, however; a circumstance that was 
soon noted, there being much less of biting 
cold in the blasts than had been felt in the 
earlier hours of the night. 


round here to the.northeast,’’ said Ros- 
well, as he paced the quarter-deck with 
Daggett, still holding in his hand the well 
wiped and dried sounding-rod, in readi- 
ness for another trial. ‘‘That last puff 
was right in our teeth ! ” 

‘* Not in our teeth, Gar’ner; no, not in 


my teeth,’’ answered Daggett, ‘‘ what- 
ever it may be in your’n. I shall try to 
get back to the island, where [ shall en- 
deavor to beach the schooner, and get a 
look at her leaks. This is the most I can 
hope for. It would never do to think of 
carrying a craft, after such a nip, as far 
as Rio, pumping every foot of the way ! ” 

“That will cause a great delay, Cap- 
tain Daggett,”’ said Roswell, doubtingly. 
‘““We are now well in among the first 
great body of the ice; it may be as easy 
to work our way to the northward of it, 
as to get back into clear water to the 
southward.”’ 

“T dare say it would; but back I go. 
Tdo not ask you to accompany us, Gar’ner ; 
by no means. A’ter the handsome man- 
ner in which you’ve waited for us so long, 
I couldn’t think of such a thing! If the 
wind has r’ally got round to northeast, 
and I begin to think it has, I shall get the 
schooner into the cove in four-and-twenty 
hours; and there’s.as pretty a spot to 
beach her, just under the shelf where we 
kept our spare casks, as a body can wish. 
In a fortnight we’ll have her leaks all 
stopped, and be jogging along in your 
wake. You’ll tell the folks on Oyster 
Pond that we’re a-coming, and they’ll be 


sure to send the news aCLrOss to the Vine- 
yard.”’ ! 


‘‘T do believe that the wind has got 


ii was touching Roswell on a point of 
ry, and Daggett knew it very well. 


erting a companion in distress, in a sea 
e that in which he was, caused him to 


fances, he would regard as an imperative 
uty. ‘The deacon, and still more, Mary, 
alled him north; but the necessities of 
Vineyarders would seem to chain him 
their fate. 

“Let us see what the pump tells us 
now,’’ cried Roswell, impatiently. ‘‘ Per- 
laps the report may make matters better 
than we have dared to hope for. If the 
pump gains on the leak, all may yet be 
“It’s encouraging and hearty to hear 
you say this; but no one who was 1n that 
hip, as a body might say, can ever expect 
the schooner to make a run of two thou- 
sand miles without repairs. To my eye, 
Garner, these bergs are separating, leav- 
ng us a clearer passage back to the open 
vater.”’ 

“1 do believe you are right; but it 
eems a sad loss of time, and a great risk, 
to go through these mountains again,” 
returned Roswell. ‘‘ The wind has shifted ; 
and the nearest berg's, from some cause or 
other, are slowly opening; but recollect 
what a mass of floe-ice there is outside. 
Let us sound again.’’ 

The process was renewed this time much 
sasier than before, the boxes being al- 
ready removed. The result was soon 
Known. 

“Well, what news, Gar’ner?”’ de- 
manded Daggett, leaning down, in a vain 
endeavor to perceive the almost impercep- 
tible marks that distinguished the wet 
art of the rod from that which was dry. 
‘Do we gain on the leak, or does the leak 
gain on us? God send it may be the 
fir st ! >a 

“God has so sent it, sir,’? answered 
Stimson, reverently ; for he was holding 
the lantern, having remained on board 
the damaged vessel by the order of his 


7 


B.* 
ae 
arid 


= | - THE SEA LIONS. 


157 


officer. ‘‘It is He alone, Captain Dag- 
gett, who could do this much to seamen 
in distress.”’ 

‘Then to God be thanks, as is due! If 
we can but. keep the leak under, the 
schooner may yet be saved.”’ 

“TI think it may be done, Daggett,’ 
added Roswell. “That one pump has 
brought the water down more than 
two inches; and, in my judgment, the 
two together would clear her entirely.” 

“We'll pump her till she sucks!”’ 
cried Daggett. ‘‘ Rig the other pump, 
men, and go to the work heartily.”’ 

This was done, though not until Ros- 
well ordered fully half of his own crew 
to come to the assistance of his consort. 
By this time the two vessels had _ filled 
away, made more sail, and were running 
off before the new wind, retracing their 
steps, so far as one might judge of the 
position of the great passage. Daggett’s 
vessel led, and Hazard followed ; Roswell 
still remaining on board the injured craft. 
Thus passed the next few hours. The 
pumps soon sucked, and it was satisfac- 
torily ascertained that the schooner 


‘could be freed from the water by work- 


ing at them about one-fourth of the time. 
This was a bad leak, and one that would 
have caused any crew to become ex- 
hausted in the course of a few days. 
As Roswell ascertained the facts more 
clearly, he became better satisfied with a 
decision that, in a degree, had been forced 
on him. He was passively content to 
return with Daggett, convinced that tak- 
ing the injured vessel to Rio was out of 
the question, until some attention had 
been paid to her damages. 

Fortune—or as Stimson would say, 
Providence—favored our mariners great- 
ly in the remainder of their run among 
the bergs. There were several ava- 
lanches of snow quite near to them, and 
one more berg performed a revolution at. 
no great distance; but no injury was 
sustained by either vessel. As the 
schooners got once more near to the 
field-ice, Roswell went on board his own 
craft; and all the boats, which had been 
towing in the open passage, were run up 
and secured. Gardiner now led, leaving 


158 


his consort to follow as closely in his wake 
as she could Keep. | 

Much greater difficulty, and dangers in- 
deed, were encountered among the broken 
and grating floes, than had been expected, 
or previously met with. Notwithstand- 
ing fenders were got out on all sides, 
many a rude shock was sustained, and the 
copper suffered in several places. Once 
or twice Roswell apprehended that the 
Schooners would be crushed by the press- 
ure on their sides. The hazards were in 
some measure increased by the bold man- 
ner in which our navigators felt them- 
selves called on to push ahead; for time 
was very precious in every sense, not only 
on account of the waning season, but act- 
ually on account of the fatigue undergone 
by men who were compelled to toil at the 
pumps one minute in every four. 

At the return of day, now getting to be 
later than it had been during the early 
months of their visit to these seas, our ad- 
venturers found themselves in the center 
of vast fields of floating ice, driving away 
from the bergs, which, influenced by under- 
currents, were still floating north, while 
the floes drove to the southward. It was 
very desirable to get clear ofall this cake- 
ice, though the grinding among it was by 
no means so formidable as when the seas 
were running high and the whole. of the 
frozen expanse was in violent commotion. 
Motion, however, soon became nearly im- 
possible, except as the schooners drifted 
in the midst of the mass, which was float- 
ing south at the rate of about two knots. 

Thus passed an entire day and night. 
So compact was the ice around them that 
_-the mariners passed from one vessel to the 
other on it, with the utmost confidence. 
No apprehension was felt so long as the 
wind stood in its present quarter, the fleet 
of bergs actually forming as good a lee as 
if they had been so much land. On the 
morning of the second day, all this sud- 
denly changed. The ice began to open; 
why, was matter of conjecture, though it 
was attributed to a variance between the 
wind and the currents. This, in some 
measure, liberated the schooners, and 
they began to move independently of the 


floes. About noon, the smoke of the vol- | by his accident and seize the occasion to 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


cano became once more visible; and before 
the sun went down the cap of the highest 
elevation in the group was seen, amid 
the flurries of snow. 
Every one was glad to see these familiar 
landmarks, dreary and remote from the 
haunts of men as they were known to be; 
for there was a promise in them of a 
temporary termination of their labors. 
Incessant pumping—one minute in four 
being thus employed on board the Vine- 
yard craft—was producing its customary 
effect ; and the men looked jaded and ex- 
hausted. No one who has not stood ata 
pump-break on board a vessel can form 
any notion of the nature of the toil, or of 
the extreme dislike with which seamen re- 
gard it. The tread-mill, as we conceive— 
for our experience extends to the first, 
though not to the last of these occupations. 
—is the nearest approach to the pain of 
such toil, though the convict does not 
work for his life. . i 
On the morning of the fourth day our 
mariners found themselves in the great 
bay, in clear water, about a league from 
the cove, and nearly dead to windward of_ 
their port. The helms were put up, and 
the schooners were soon within the well-_ 
known shelter. As they ran in, Roswell 
gazed around him, in regret, awe, and 
admiration. He could not but regret 
being compelled to lose so much precious — 
time, at that particular season. Short as_ 
had been his absence from the group, sen- ! 
sible changes in the aspect of things had — 
already occurred. Every sign of summer 
—and they had ever been few and meager 
—was now lost; a chill and dreary 
autumn having succeeded. As a matter ; 
of course, nothing was altered about the — 
dwelling ; the piles of wood and other ob- 
jects placed there by the hands of man, 
remaining just as they had been left; but 
even these looked less cheering, more un- 
available, than when last seen. To the 
surprise of all, not a seal was visible 
From some cause unknown to the men, — 
all of these animals had disappeared, 
thereby defeating one of Daggett’s secret 
calculations ; this provident master havy- — 
ing determined, in his own mind, to profit 


_ fillup. Some said that the creatures had 
- gone north to winter; others asserted 
_ that they had been alarmed and had 
| taken refuge on one of the other islands ; 
' but all agreed in saying that they were 
_ gone. 

_ Itis known that a seal will occasionally 
_ wander a great distance from what may 
be considered his native waters; but we 
are not at all aware that they are to be 
considered as migratory animals. The 
larger species usually take a wide range 
of climate to dwell in, and even the little 
-fur-seal sometimes gets astray, and is 
found on coasts that do not usually come 
within his haunts. As respects the ani- 
mals that so lately abounded on Sealer’s 
_ Land, we shall hazard no theory, our busi- 
i ness being principally with facts; but a 
_ conversation that took place between the 
_ two chief mates on this occasion may pos- 
_ sibly assist some inquiring mind in its 
speculations. 

“Well, Macy,’’ said Hazard, pointing 
along the deserted rocks, ‘“‘what do you 
pink of that ? Not an animal to be seen, 

_ where there were lately thousands ! ”’ 
& “What do I think of it? Why,I think 
__ they are off, and I’ve know’d such things 
to happen afore.’’—The sealers of 1819 

"were not very particular about their En- 
- glish, even among their officers.—‘‘Any 

“man who watches for signs and symptoms 
b may know how to take this.”’ 

4 aw ““T should like to hear it explained; to 
Ine it is quite new.”’ 

_ “The seals are off, and that is a sign 
a we should be off too. There’s my explana- 

_ tion, and you may make what you please 
t of it. Natur’ gives sich hints, and no 
_ prudent seaman ought to overlook ’em. 

_Isay, that when the seal go, the sealers 
should go likewise.”’ 
_ “And you set this down as a hint from 
 natur’, as you call it ? ”’ 
ae Ass and a useful hint it is. If we 
was in ie trim, I’d ha’nt the old man, 
iz but Vd get him off this blessed night. 

_ Now, mark my works, Hazard—no good 
_ will come of that nip, and of this return 
into port ag’in; and of all this veering 
) and hauling aye cargo.”’ 


~) 


. — 
ra a 


fi 


THE SEA LIONS. 


159 


from his commanding officer put a stop 
to the dialogue. Hazard was wanted to 
help secure the schooner of Daggett in the 
berth in which she was now placed. The 
tides do not appear to rise and fall in very 
high latitudes, by any means, as much as 
they do in about 50°. In the antarctic 
Sea they are reported to be of medium 
elevation and force. This fact our navi- 
gators had noted; and Daggett had, at 
once, carried his schooner on the only 
thing like a beach that was to be found 
on any part of that wild coast. His craft 
was snug within the cove and quite handy 
for discharging and taking in. Beach, in 
a proper sense, it was not; being, with a 
very trifling exception, nothing but a 
shelf of rock that was a little inclined, 
and which admitted of a vessel’s being 
placed upon it as on the floor of a dock. 

Into this berth Daggett took his 
schooner, while the other vessel anchored. 
There was nearly a whole day before 
them, and all the men were at once set to 
work to discharge. the cargo of the in- 
jured vessel. To get rid of the pumps, 
they would cheerfully have worked the 
twenty-four hours without intermission. 
As fast as the vessel was lightened she 
was hove further and further on the rock, 
until she was got so high as to be perfect- 
ly safe from sinking, or from injuring 
anything on board her, when the pumps 
were abandoned. Before night came, 
however, the schooner was so secured by 
means of shores, and purchases aloft that 
were carried out to the rocks, as to stand 
perfectly upright on her keel. She was 
thus protected when the tide left her. At 
low water it was found that she wanted 
eight feet of being high and dry, having 
already been lightened four feet. A good 
deal of cargo was still in, on this the first 
night after her return. 

The crew of Daggett’s vessel carried 
their mattresses ashore, took possession 
of the bunks, highted a fire in the stove, 
and made their preparations to get the 
caboose ashore next day, and do their 
cooking in the house, as had been prac- 
ticed previously to quitting the island. 
Roswell, and all his people, remained on 


The other mate laughed; but a call | board their own vessel. 


160 WORKS 

The succeeding day the injured schooner 
was cleared of everything, even to her 
spars, the lower masts and bowsprit ex- 
cepted. Two large sealing crews made 
quick work with so small acraft. Empty 
casks were got under her, and at the top 
of the tide she was floated quite up to the 
small beach that was composed of the 
débris of rock, already mentioned. As 
the water left her, she fell over a little, of 
course ; and at half-tide her keel lay high 
and dry. 

The prying eyes of all hands were now 
busy looking out for the leaks. As might 
have been expected, none were found near 
the garboard streak, a fact that was 
clearly enough proved by a quantity of 
the water remaining in the vessel after 
she lay, entirely bare, nearly on her bilge. 

‘* Her seams have opened a few streaks 
below the bends,’’ said Roswell, as he and 
Daggett went under the vessel’s bottom, 
looking out for injuries; ‘‘and you had 
better set about getting off the copper at 
once. Has there been an examination 
made inside ? ” 

None had yet been made, and our two 
masters clambered up to the main hatch, 
and got as good a look at the state of 
things in the hold, as could be thus ob- 
tained. So tremendous had been the 
pressure, that three of the deck beams 
were broken. They would have been 
driven quite clear of their fastenings, had 
not the wall of ice at each end prevented 
the possibility of sucha thing. As it was, 
the top-timbers had slightly given way, 
and the seams must have been opened 
just below the water-line. When the tide 
came in again, the schooner righted of 
course; and the opportunity was taken 
to pump her dry. There was then no 
leak; another proof that the defective 
places must be sought above the present 
water-line. 

With the knowledge thus obtained, the 
copper was removed, and several of the 
seams examined. The condition of the 
pitch and oakum pointed out the precise 
spots that needed attention, and the calk- 
ing-irons were immediately set at work. 
In about a week the job was completed, 
as was fancied, the copper replaced, and 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


' this man clung like a leech to the remotest 


the schooner was got afloat again. Great 
was the anxiety to learn the effect of what 
had been done, and quite as great the 
disappointment,, when it was found that 
there was still a serious leak, that ad-— 
mitted too much water to think of going 
to sea until it was stopped. <A little head-° 
work, however, and that on the part of — 
Roswell, speedily gave a direction to the 
search that was immediately set on foot. 
“This leak is not as low down as the 
vessel’s bilge,’’? he said; ‘‘ for the water 
did not run out of her, nor into her, until. 
we got her afloat. It is somewhere then 
between her light-water load-line and her — 
bilge. Now we have had all the copper 
off, and the seams examined in the wake 
of this section of the vessel’s bottom, from 
the fore-chains to the main; and, in my 
judgment, it will be found that something — 
is wrong about her stem, or her stern- 
post. Perhaps one of her wood ends has 
started. Such a thing might very well 
have happened under so close a squeeze.’’ 
‘‘In which case we shall have to lay 
the craft ashore again, and go to work — 
anew,’’? answered Daggett. ‘I see how 
it1s; you do not like the delay, and are 
thinking of Deacon Pratt and Oyster 
Pona. I do not blame you, Gar’ner; 
and shall never whisper a syllable ag’in— 
you, or your people, if you sail for home 
this very a’ternoon, leaving me and mine — 
to look out for ourselves. You’ve stood 
by us nobly thus far; and I am too™ 
thankful for hype you have done already, — 
to ask for more.’ } 
Was Daggett sincere in eee profes- 
sions? Toa certain point he was; while 
he was only artful on others. He wished 
to appear just and magnanimous; while, 
in secret, it was his aim to work on the 
better feelings, as well as on the pride of — 
Gardiner, and thus secure his services in 
getting his own schooner ready, as well as” 
keep him in sight until a certain key had 
been examined, in the proceeds of which 
he conceived he had a share, as well as 
in those of Sealer’s Land. Strange as it 
may seem, even in the strait in which he 
was now placed, with so desperate a pros- 
pect of ever getting his vessel home again, 


ar se 


ice of obtaining property. There is a 
dog tenacity on this subject among a 
ain portion of the great American 
ly—the god-like Anglo-Saxon—that 
‘tainly leads to great results in one re- 
ect; but which it is often painful to 
-rega ia, and never agreeable to any but 
th hemselves, to be subject to. Of this 
chool was Daggett, whom no dangers, no 
oil, no thoughts of a future, could divert 
from a purpose that was colored by gold. 
‘We do not mean to say that other nations 
are not just as mercenary; many are 
more so; those in particular that have 
long been corrupted by vicious govern- 
ments. You may buy half a dozen French- 
‘men, for instance, more easily than one 
Yankee; but let the last actually get his 
te eeth ito a dollar, and the muzzle of the 
- fares worse in the jaws of the bull- 
Be. 
Roswell was deeply reluctant to pro- 
ract his stay in the group; but profes- 
sional pride would have prevented him 
rom deserting a consort under such 
ircumstances, had not a better feeling 
mclined him to remain and assist Dag- 
sett. It is true the last had, in a man- 
er, thrust himself on him, and the 
onnection had been strangely continued 
lown to that moment; but this he viewed 
S$ a dispensation of Providence, to which 
€ was bound to submit. The result was 
‘declaration of a design to stand by his 
ompanion as long as there was any hope 
f getting the injured craft home. 
‘This decision pointed at once to the 
delay of another week. No time was 
ost in vain regrets, however; but all 
he nds went to work to get tis schooner 
nto shallow water again, and to look fur- 
ther for the principal leak. Accurate 
rimming and pumping showed that a 
good deal of water was already stopped 
ut; but too much still entered to render 
t t prudent to think of sailing until the 
| jury was repaired. This time the 
chooner was not suffered to lie on her 
bilge at all. She was taken into water 
ust deep enough to permit her to stand 
pright, sustained by shores, while the 
‘ide left two or three streaks dry for- 
ward ; it being the intention to wind her, 
 IV.—6 


ms ae 


THE SEA LIONS. 


161 


Should the examination forward not be 
successful. 

On stripping off the copper it was found 
that a wood-end had indeed started, the 
inner edge of the plank having got so 
far from its bed as where the outer had 
been orginally placed. This opened a 
crack through which a small stream of 
water must constantly pour, each hour 
rendering the leak more dangerous by 
loosening the oakum, and raising the 
plank from its curvature. Once discoy- 
ered, however, nothing was easier than 
to repair the damage. It remained mere- 
ly to butt-bolt anew the wood-end, drive 
a few spikes, calk, and replace the cop- 
per. Roswell, who was getting each 
moment more and more impatient to 
sail, was much vexed at a delay that 
really seemed unavoidable, as it arose 
from the particular position of the leak. 
Placed as it was, in a manner, between 
wind and water, it was not possible to 
work at it more than an hour each tide; 
and the staging permitted but two hands 
to be busy at the same time. As a con- 
Sequence of these embarrassments, no 


— 


less than six tides came in and went out 
before the stem was pronounced tight 
again. The schooner was. then pumped 
out, and the vessel was once more taken 
into deep water. This time it was found 
that the patience and industry of our 
sealers were rewarded with success; no 
leak of any account existing. 

“‘She’s as tight as a bottle with a 
sealed cork, Gar’ner,’’ cried Daggett, a 
few hours after his craft was at her an- 
chor, meeting his brother-master at his 
own gangway, and shaking hands. with 
him cordially. ‘‘I owe much of this to 
you, as all the Vineyard shall know, if 
we ever get home ag’in.”’ 

“T am rejoiced that it turns out so, 
Captain Daggett,’? was Roswell’s reply ; 
*‘for to own the truth to you, the fort: 
night we have lost, or shall lose, before 
we get you stowed and ready to sail 
again, has made a great change in our 
weather. The days are shortening with 
frightful rapidity, and the great bay was 
actually covered with a skim of ice this 
very morning. The wind has sent in a 


162 


sea that has broken it up; but look about 
you, in the cove here—a boy might walk 
6n that ice near the rocks.”’ 

<‘There’ll be none of it left by night, 
and the two crews will fill me up in twen- 
ty-four hours. Keep a good heart, Gar’- 
ner, I’ll take you clear of the bergs in the 
course of a week.”’ 

<‘T have less fear of the bergs now than 
of the new ice and the fioes. The islands 
must have got pretty well to the north- 
ward by this time; but each night gets 
colder, and the fields seem to be setting 
back toward the group, instead of away 
from it.’’ 

Daggett cheered his companion by a 
good deal of confident talk; but Roswell 
was heartily rejoiced when, at the end 
of four-and-twenty hours more, the Vine- 
yard craft was pronounced entirely ready. 
It was near the close of the day, and Gar- 
diner was for sailing, or moving at once ; 
but Daggett offered several very reason- 
able objections. In the first place, there 
was no wind ; and Roswell’s proposition 
to tow the schooners out into the middle 
of the bay, was met by the objection that 
the people had been hard at work for 
several days, and that they needed some 
rest. All that could be gained by moving 
the schooners then, was to get them out- 
side of the skim of ice that now regularly 
formed every still night near the land, but 
which was as regularly broken and dis- 
persed by the waves, as soon as the wind 
returned. Roswell, however, did not like 
the appearance of things; and he deter- 
mined to take his own craft outside, let 
Daggett do as he might. After discuss- 
ing the matter in vain, therefore, and 
finding that the people of the other 
schooner had eaten their suppers and 
turned in, he called all hands, and made a 
short address to his own crew, leaving it 
to their discretion whether to man the 
boats or not. As Roswell had pointed 
out the perfect absence of wind, the 
smoothness of the water, and the appear- 
ances of a severe frost, or cold, for frost 
there was now, almost at mid-day, the 
men came reluctantly over to his view 
of the matter, and consented to work in- 
stead of sleeping. The toil, however, 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


could be much lessened, by dividing the 
crew into the customary watches. 
that Roswell aimed at was to get his 
schooner about a league from the cove, 
which would be taking her without a line 
drawn from cape to cape, the greatest 
danger of new ice being within the pine | 
ture of the crescent. This he thought 
might easily be done in the course of a few 
hours; and should there come any wind, 
much sooner. On explaining this to the 
crew, the men were Satisfied. 

Roswell Gardiner felt as if a load were 
taken off his spirts, when his schooner was 
clear of the ground, and his mainsail was 
hoisted. A boat was got ahead, and the 
craft was slowly towed out of the cove, 
the canvas doing neither good nor harm, 
As the vessel passed that of Daggett, the 
last was on deck, the only person visible 
in the Vineyard craft. He wished his 
brother-master a good-night, promising 
to be out aS soon as there was any light 
next morning. 4 

It would not be easy to imagine a more 
dreary scene than that in which Deacon 
Pratt’s schooner moved out into the wa- 
ters that separated the different islands of 
this remote and sterile group. Roswell 
could just discern the frowning mass of 
rocks that crowned the center of Sealer’s 
Land; and that was soon lost in the in- 
creasing obscurity. The cold was gettin 
to be severe, and the men soon complaine | 
that ice was forming on the blades of 
their oars. Then it was that a thought 
occurred to our young mariner which had 
hitherto escaped him. Of what use would | 
it be for his vessel to be beyond the ice, if 
that of Daggett should be shut in the sue- 
ceeding day? So sensible did he become 
to the importance of this idea, that he 
called in his boat, and pulled back into the 
cove, in order to make one more effort 
to persuade Daggett to follow him out. 

Gardiner found all the Vineyarders 
turned in, even to their officers. The 
fatigue they had lately undergone, united 
to the cold, rendered the berths very 
agreeable ; and even Daggett begged his 
visitor would excuse him for not rising to 
receive his guest. Argument with a man 
thus circumstanced, and so disposed, was 


absolutely useless. After remaining a 
! Ze ort time with Daggett, Roswell returned 
yhis own schooner. As he pulled back 
ascertained that ice was fast making; 
and the boat actually cut its way through 
a thin skim, ere it reached the vessel. 
— Our hero was now greatly concerned 
‘Ba he should be frozen in himself, ere he 
could get into the more open water of the 
bay. Fortunately a light air sprung up 
from the northward, and trimming his 
sails, Gardiner succeeded in carrying his 
craft to a point where the undulations of 
the ground-swell gave the assurance of 
her being outside the segment of the cres- 
cent. Then he brailed his foresail, hauled 
the jib-sheet over, lowered his gaff, and 
put his helm hard down. After this, all 
the men were permitted to seek their 
nk the officers looking out for the 
craft in turns. 
It wanted but an hour of day, when the 
second mate gave Roswell a call, accord- 
te to orders. The young master found 
no wind, but an intensely cold morning, on 
going on deck. Ice had formed on every 
art of the rigging and sides of the 
schooner where water had touched them : 
‘though the stillness of the night, by pre- 
venting the spray from flying, was much 
‘in favor of the navigators in this respect. 
On thrusting a boat-hook down, Roswell 
ascertained that the bay around him had 
askim of ice nearly an inch in thickness. 
This cauised him great uneasiness ; and he 
Waited with the greatest erie for the 
r return of light, in order to observe the 
condition of Daggett. 
| ‘Sure enough, when the day came out dis- 
inctly, it was seen that ice of sufficient 
hickness to bear men on it, covered the 
entire surface within the crescent. Dag- 
rot and his people were already at work 
n it, using the saw. They must have 
a en the alarm before the return of day ; 
or the schooner was not only free from 
he ground, but had been brought fully a 
able’s length without the cove. Gardiner 
vatched the movements of Daggett and 
iS crew with a glass for a short time, 
whi en he ordered all hands called. The 
(i was already in the galley, and a 
rm breakfast was soon prepared. After 


‘a 


PDA, 


THE SEA _ LIONS. 


163 


eating this, the two whale-boats were 
lowered, and Roswell and Hazard both 
rowed as far as the ice would permit them, 
when they walked the rest of the way to 
the imprisoned craft, taking with them 
most of their hands, together with the 
saw. 

It was perhaps fortunate for Daggett 
that it soon began to blow fresh from the 
northward, sending into the bay a consid- 
able sea, which soon broke up the ice, and 
enabled the Vineyard craft to force her 
way through the fragments, and join her 
consort about noon. 

Glad enough was Roswell to regain his 
own vessel; and he made sail on a wind, 
determined to beat out of the narrow wa- 
ters at every hazard, the experience of 
that night having told him that they had 
remained in the cove too long. Daggett 
followed willingly, but not like a man who 
had escaped by the skin of his teeth, from 
wintering near the antarctic circle. 


CHAPTER XXII. 


‘Beside the Moldau’s rushing stream, 
With the wan moon overhead, 
There stood, as in an awful dream, 
The army of the dead.’>—LONGFELLOW. 


Most of our readers will understand 
what was meant by Mary Pratt’s “incli- 
nation of the earth’s axis to the plane of its 
orbit; ’’? but as there may be afew who do 
not, and as the consequences of this great 
physical fact are materially connected. 
with the succeeding events of the narra- 
tive, we propose to give such a homely 
explanation of the phenomenon as we 
humbly trust will render it clear to the 
most clouded mind. The orbit of the 
earth is the path which it follows in space 
in its annual revolution around the sun. 
To a planet there is no up or down, except 
as ascent and descent are estimated from 
and toward itself. In all other respects 
it floats in vacuum, or what is so nearly 
so as to be thus termed. Now let the un- 
instructed reader imagine a large circular 
table, with a light on its surface, and near 
to its center. The light shall represent 
the sun, the outer edge of the circle of the 


164 


table the earth’s orbit, and its surface 
the plane of that orbit. In nature there 
is no such thing as a plane at all, the 
space within the orbit being vacant; but 
the surface of the table gives a distinct 
notion of the general position of the earth 
as ittravels around the sun. Itisscarcely 
necessary to say that the axis of the earth 
is an imaginary line drawn through the 
planet, from one pole to the other; the 
name being derived from the supposition 
that our daily revolution is made on this 
axis. 

Now the first thing that the Bintdane is 
to fix in his mind, in order to comprehend 
the phenomenon of the seasons, is the lead- 
ing fact that the earth does not change 
its attitude in space, if we may so express 
it, when it changes its position. If the 
axis were perpendicular to the plane of 
the orbit, this circumstance would not 
affect the temperature, as the simplest 
experiment will show. Putting the equa- 
tor of a globe on the outer edge of the 
table, and holding it perfectly wpright, 
causing it to turn on its axis as it passes 
round the circle, it would be found that the 
light from the center of the table would 
illuminate just one half of the globe, at all 
times and in all positions, cutting the two 
poles. Did this movement correspond 
with that of nature, the days and nights 
would be always of the same length, and 
there would be no changes of the seasons, 
the warmest weather being nearest to the 
equator, and the cold increasing as the 
poles were approached. Nowhere, how- 
ever, would the cold be so intense as it 
now is, nor would the heat be so great as 


at present, except at or quite near to the: 


equator. The first fact would be owing 
to the regular return of the sun, once in 
twenty-four hours ; the last to the oblique 
manner in which its rays struck this orb, 
in all places but near its center. 

But the globe ought not to be made to 
move around the table with its axis per- 
pendicular to its surface, or to the ‘‘ plane 
of the earth’s orbit.’’ In point of fact, 
the earth is inclined to this plane, and the 


globe should be placed at a corresponding. 


inclination. Let the globe be brought to 
the edge of the table, at its south side, 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


light, and the other half in darkness, this 
inclination from the perpendicular will 
bring the circle of light some distance be- 
yond the north pole, when the globe is 
due-south from the light, and will leave 
an equal space around the opposite pole 
without any light at all, or any light dix 
rectly received. Now it is that what we 
have termed the fixed attitude of th 
globe begins to tell. If the north pole 
inclined toward the orbit facing the rim 
of the table, the light would still cut the | 
poles, the days and nights would still be 
equal, and there would be no changes in 
the seasons, though there would be a 
rival revolution of the globe by causing 
it to turn once a year, shifting the poles 
end for end. The inclination being to the 
surface of the table, or to the plane of 
the orbit, the phenomena that are known 
to exist are a consequence. Thus it is 
that the change in the seasons is as much 
owing to the fixed attitude of the earth in 
space, aS we have chosen to term its 
polar directions, as to the inclination of 
its axis. Neither would produce the phe- 
nomena without the assistance of the 
other, as our experiment with the table 
will show. 

Place, then, the globe at the south “idl 
of the rim of the table, with its axis in- 
clining toward its surface, and its poles 
always pointing in the same general direc- 
tion, not following the circuit of the orbit, 
and set it in motion toward the east, re- 
volving rapidly on its axis as it moves 
While directly south of the light, it would 
be found that the north pole would be 
illuminated, while no revolution on the 
axis would bring the south pole within the 
circle of the light. This is when a line 
drawn from the axis of the globe would 
cut the lamp, were the inclination broughi 
as low as the surface of the table. Nex 
set the globe in motion, following the rin 
of the table, and proceeding to the east o 


a 


This movement would be, in one sense, 


‘ing the days and nights equal. 
obe moved north, the 


vould be of precisely the same size as had 
been the space of light when it was placed 
on 1 the opposite side of the table. 
round the circle west, the same phictininiera 
would be seen, until coming directly south 
of the lamp, the north pole would again 
come into light altogether, and the south 
equally into shadow. 

Owing to this very simple but very won- 
de rful provision of divine power and wis- 
dom , this earth enjoys the relief of the 
changes in the seasons, as well as the 
ariations in the length of the days. 
‘or one half the year, or from equinox 
) equinox, from the time when the globe 
sat a due-west point of the table until it 
ches the east, the north pole would al- 
ys receive the light, in a circle around 
, that would gradually increase and di- 
inish ; and for the other half, the same 
rould a true of the other hemisphere. Of 
urse there is a precise point on the earth 
here this polar illumination ceases. The 
pe of the illuminated part is circular ; 
placing the point. of a pencil on the 
lobe at the extremest spot on the circle, 
ding it there while the globe is turned 
ts axis, the line made would just include 


he portions of the earth around the globe 
it i 


THE SHA LIONS. 


einclination as low as the surface of the 


sideways, the circle of light gradually 
ae around the north pole, and ex- 
bending toward the south, as the globe 
proceeded east and north, diminishing the 
length of the days in the northern hemi- 
here, and increasing them in the south- 
n. When at east, the most direct rays 
of the light would fall on the equator, and 
the ight would cut the two poles, render- 
As the 
ircle of light 
gould be found to increase around the 
south pole, while none at all touched the 
Dorti When on the north side of the 
Eble, the northern pole of the globe 
vould incline so far from the sun as to 
ea ve a space around it in shadow that 


Going 


165 


that thus receives the rays of the sun at 
midsummer. These lines compose what 
are termed the arctic and antarctic cir- 
cles, with the last of which our legend has 
now a most serious connection. After all, 
we are by nomeans certain that we have 
made our meaning as obvious as we could 
wish, it being very difficult to explain 
phenomena of this nature clearly, without 
actually experimenting. 

It is usual to say that there are six 
months day and six months night in the 
polar basins. This is true, literally, at 
the poles only; but, approximately, it is 
true as a whole. We apprehend that few 
persons—none, perhaps, but those who are 
in habits of study—form correct notions 
of the extent of what may be termed the 
icy seas. As the polar circles are in 23° 
28’, a line drawn through the south pole, 
for instance, commencing on one side of 
the earth at the antarctic circle, and ex- 
tending to the other, would traverse a dis- 
tance materially exceeding that between 
New York and Lisbon. This would make 
those frozen regions cover a portion of this 
globe that is almost as large as the whole 
of the Atlantic Ocean, as far south as the 
equator. Any one can imagine what must 
be the influence of frost over so vast a sur- 
face, in reproducing itself, since the pres- 
ence of icebergs is thought to affect our 
climate, when many of them drift far 
south in summer. As power produces 
power, riches wealth, so does cold pro- 
duce cold. Fill then, in a certain degree, 
@ Space as large as the North Atlantic 
Ocean with ice in all its varieties, fixed, 
mountain and field, berg and floe, and one 
may get a tolerably accurate notion of the 
severity of its winters, when the sun is 
scarce seen above the horizon at all, and 
then only to shed its rays so obliquely as 
to be little better than a chill-looking orb 
of light, placed in the heavens simply to 
divide the day from the night. 

This, then, was the region that Roswell 
Gardiner was so very anxious to leave 


the winter he so much dreaded. Mary 


Pratt was before him, to say nothing of 


his duty to the deacon; while behind him: 
was the vast polar ocean just described, 
about to be veiled in the freezing obscur- 


166 WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


for turn which way you will, the horizo 
has a show of that sort——’’ . 
“Starboard !’’ called out the lookout > 
forward — “‘keep her away — keep > | 
away—there is ice ahead.” | 
‘Tce in here!’ exclaimed Hazard, 
springing forward—‘‘ That is more thaml | 


ity of its iong and gloomy twilight, if not 
of absolute night. No wonder, therefore, 
that when he trimmed his sails that even- 
ing, to beat out of the great bay, it was 
done with the earnestness with which we 
all perform duties of the highest import, 


when they are known to affect our well- 
being, visibly and directly. ‘‘ Keep her a 
good full, Mr. Hazard,’’ said Roswell), as 
he was leaving the deck, to take the first 
sleep in which he had indulged for four- 
and-twenty hours; ‘‘and let her go 
through the water. We are behind our 
time, and must keep in motion. Give me 
a call if anything like ice appears in a 
serious way.’’ 

Hazard “ay-ay’d”’ this order, as usual, 
buttoned his pea-jacket tighter than ever, 
and saw his young superior—the tran- 
scendental delicacy of the day is causing 
the difference in rank to be termed “‘ senior 
and junior ’’—but Hazard saw his supe- 
rior go below with a feeling allied to envy, 
so heavy were his eyelids with the want 
of rest. Stimson was in the first-mate’s 
watch, and the latter approached that 
old sea-dog with a wish to keep himself 
awake by conversing. 

“You seem as wide awake, 
Stephen,’”’ the mate remarked, 
you never felt drowsy !”’ 

‘This is not a part of the world for 
hammocks and berths, Mr. Hazard,’’ was 
the reply. ‘‘I can get along, and must 
get along, with a quarter part of the 
sleep in these seasas would sarve me in 
a low latitude.’’ 

«¢ And I feel as if I wanted all I can get. 
Them fellows look up well into’ our wake, 
Stephen.”’ 

‘«“They do, indeed, sir, and they ought 
to do it; for we have been longer than is 
for our good in their’n.”’ 

“‘ Well, now we have got a fresh start, 
I hope we may make a clear run of it. I 
saw no ice worth speaking of to the nor’- 
ard here, before we made sail.’’ 

‘Because you see’d none, Mr. Hazard, 
is no proof there is none. Floe-ice can’t 
be seen at any great distance, though 
its blink may. But it seems to me, it’s 
all blink in these here seas ! ”’ 

‘‘There you’re quite right, Stephen ; 


king 
Ficus bt 


we bargained for! Where away is your 
ice, Smith ? ”’ | 

‘*Off here, sir, on our weather bow— : 
and a mortal big field of it—jist sich a 
chap as nipped the Vineyard Lion, when 
she first came in to join us. Sich a fellow 
as that would take the sap out of our 
bends, aS a squeezer takes the juice from 
a lemon!’ 

Smith was a carpenter by trade, which 
was probably the reason why he intro- 
duced this figure. !lazard saw the ice 
with regret, for he had hoped to work the 
schooner fairly out to sea in his watch; 
but the field was getting down through | 
the passage in a way that threatened to 
cut off the exit of the two schooners from 
the bay. Daggett kept close in his wake, — 
a proof that this experienced navigator in 
such waters saw no means to turn farther 
to windward. As the wind was now 
abeam, both vessels drove rapidly ahead ; 
and in half an hour the northern point of 
the land they had so lately left came into 
view close aboard of them. Just then the 
moon rose, and objects became more 
clearly visible. j 

Hazard hailed the Vineyard Lion and 
demanded what was to be done. It was 
possible, by hauling close on a wind, to 
pass the cape a short distance to wind- 
ward of it, and seemingly thus clear the 
floe. Unless this were done both vessel 
would be compelled to wear, and run fo” 
the southern passage, which would carr 
them many miles to leeward, and might 
place them a long distance on the wron 
side of the group. 

‘‘Is Captain Gar’ner on deck ?”’ asked 
Daggett, who had now drawn close up on 
the lee-quarter of his consort, Hazar 
having brailed his foresail and laid his top- 
sail sharp aback, to enable him to do so— 
‘‘Tf he isn’t, ’d advise you to give him @ 
call at once.’’ | 

This was done immediately ; and whil 


it was doing the Vineyard Lion swept past 
e Oyster Pond schooner. Roswell an- 
inced his presence on deck just as the 
her vessel cleared his bows. 

“There’s no time to consult, Gar’ner,”’ 
‘answered Daggett. “There’s our road 
fore us. Go through it we must, or 
y where we are until that field-ice gives 
a jam down yonder in the crescent. I 
ll lead, and you can follow as soon as 
your eyes are open.”’ 

One glance let Roswell into the secret of 
‘situation. He liked it little, but he did 
“not hesitate. 

“Will the topsail and haul aft the fore- 
‘sheet,’’ were the quiet orders that pro- 
claimed what he intended to do. 

Both vessels stood on. By some secret 
‘process every man on board the two craft 
ye ame aware of what was going on, and 
jppeared on deck. All hands were not 
called, nor was there any particular noise 
to attract attention; but the word had 
‘been whispered below that there was a 
great risk to run. A risk it was, of a 
erity ! It was necessary to stand close 
long that iron-bound coast where the 
seals had so lately resorted, for a distance 
of several miles. The wind would not ad- 
mit of the schooners steering much more 
than a cable’s length from the rocks for 
quite a league; after which the shore 
rended to the southward, and a little 
sea-room would be gained. But on those 
rocks the waves were then beating heavily, 
md their bellowings as they rolled into 
t he cavities were at almost all times ter- 
rific. There was some relief, however, in 
the knowledge obtained of the shore, by 
aving frequently passed up and down it 
ithe boats. It was known that the wa- 
r was deep close to the visible rocks, and 
hat there was no danger so long as a ves- 
sel could keep off them. 

No one spoke. Every eye was strained 
to discern objects ahead, or was looking 
ern to trace the expected collision. be- 
veen the ice-floe and the low promontory 
f the cape. The ear soon gave notice 
hat this meeting had already taken 
lace; for the frightful sound that at- 
nded the cracking and rending of the 
ld might have been heard fully a league. 


mn, 
: 


THE SHA LIONS. 


167 


Now it was that each schooner did her 
best. Yards were braced up, sheets flat- 
tened, and the helm tended. The close 
proximity of the rocks on the one side, 
and the secret presentiment of there being 
more field-ice on the other, kept every one 
wide awake. The two masters, in par- 
ticular, were all eyes and ears. It was 
getting to be very cold; and the sort of 
shelter aloft that goes by the quaint name 
of *‘crow’s-nest,’’? had been fitted up in 
each vessel. A mate was now sent into 
each, to ascertain what might be dis- 
covered to windward. Almost at the 
same instant these young seamen hailed 
their respective decks, and gave notice 
that a wide field was coming in upon 
them, and must eventually crush them 
unless avoided. This startling intelli- 
gence reached the two commanders in 
the same moment. The emergency de- 
manded decision, and each man acted for 
himself. Roswell oidered his helm put 
down, and his schooner tacked. The 
water was not rough enough to prevent 
the success of the maneuver. On the’ 
other hand, Daggett kept a rap full, and 
stood on. Roswell manifested the most 
judgment and seamanship. He was now 
far enough from the cape to beat to wind- 
ward; and, by going nearer to the enemy, 
he might always run along its southern 
boundary, profit by any opeping, and 
would be by as much as he could thus gain 
to windward of the coast. Daggett had 
one advantage. By standing on, in the 
event of a return becoming necessary, he 
would gain in time. In ten minutes the 
two schooners were a mile asunder. We 
shall first follow that of Roswell Gardi- 
ner’s in his attempt to escape. 

The first floe, which was ripping and 
tearing one of its angles into frag- 
ments, as it came grinding down on the 
cape, soon compelled the vessel to tack. 
Making short reaches, Roswell ere long 
found himself fully a mile to windward of 
the rocks, and sufficiently near to the new 
floe to discern its shape, drift, and general 
character. Its eastern end had lodged 
upon the field that first came in, and was 
adding to the vast momentum with which 
that enormous floe was pressing down 


168 WORKS 


upon the cape. Large as was the first 
visitor to the bay, this was of at least 
twice if not of thrice its dimensions. What 
gave Roswell the most concern was the 
great distance that this field extended to 
the westward. He went up into the 
crow’s-nest himself, and aided by the 
light of a most brilliant moon, and a sky 
without a cloud, he could perceive the 
blink of ice in that direction, as he fancied, 
for fully two leagues. What was unusual, 
_ perhaps, at that early season of the year, 
these floes did not consist of a vast collec- 
tion of numberless cakes of ice; but the 
whole field, so far as could then be ascer- 
tained, was firm and united. The nights 
were now So cold that ice made fast where- 
ever there was water ;* and it occurred to 
our young master that, possibly, frag- 
ments that had once been separated and 
broken by the waves, might have become 
reunited by the agency of the frost. Ros- 
well descended fron: the crow’s-nest half 
chilled by a cutting wind, though it blew 
from a warm quarter. Summoning his 
mates, he asked their advice. 

“It seems to me, Captain Gar’ner,”’ 
Hazard replied, ‘‘there’s very little 
choice. Here we are, so far as I can 
make it out, embayed, and we have only 
to box about until daylight comes, when 
some chance may turn up to help us. If 
so, we myst turn it to account; if not, 
we must make up our minds to winter 
here.”’ 

This was coolly and calmly said; 
though it was clear enough that Hazard 
was quite in earnest.. 

“You forget there may be an open 
passage to the westward, Mr. Hazard,’’ 
Roswell rejoined, ‘‘and that we may yet 
pass out to sea by it. Captain Daggett 
is already out of sight in the. western 
board, and we may do well to stand on 
after him.”’ 

«‘ Ay, ay, Sir—I know all that, Captain 
Gar’ner, and it may be as you say; but 
when I was aloft, half an hour since, if 
there wasn’t the blink of ice in that direc- 
tion, quite round to the back of the isl- 
and, there wasn’t the blink of ice no- 
where hereabouts. I’m used to the sight 
of it, and can’t well be mistaken.’’ 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


}enable him to beat through it. 


‘‘There is always ice on that side o 
the land, Hazard, and you may hay 
seen the blink of the bergs which have 
hugged the cliffs in that quarter all sum- 
mer. Still that is not proving we shall 
find no outlet. This craft can go through 
a very small passage, and we must take. 
care and find one in proper time. Win: 
tering here is out of the question. A 
hundred reasons tell us not to think of. 
such a thing, besides the interests of our 
owners. Weare walking along this floe 
pretty fast, though I think the vessel is, 
too much by the head; don’t it sain: | 
you so, Hazard ? ”’ 

‘‘Lord, sir, it’s nothing but the ice that 
has made, and is making for’ard! Before 
we got so near the field as to find a better 
lee, the little lipper that came athwart 
our bows froze almost as soon as it wet 
us. | do suppose, sir, there are now sev= 
eral tons of ice on our bows, counting from 
channel to channel, forward.”? | | 

On an examination this proved to be 
true, and the knowledge of the circum-. 
stance did not at all contribute to Gardi- 
ner’s feeling of security. He saw there 
was no time to be lost, and he crowded | 
sail with a view of forcing the vessel i | 
the dangers if possible, and of getting her 
into a milder climate. But even a fast- 
sailing schooner will scarcely equal our 
wishes under such circumstances. There 
was no doubt that the Sea Lion’s speed | 
was getting to be affected by the manner 
in which her bows were weighed down b 
ice, in addition to the discomfort mr | 
by cold, damp, and the presence of a slip- 
pery substance on the deck and rigging, 


worse. As it was, they were bad enough, 
and very ominous of future evil. 

While the Sea Lion of Oyster Pond was 
running along the margin of the ice in the 
manner just described, and after the’ 
blink to the westward had changed to a 
visible field, making it very uncertair 
whether an egress was to be found in that 


peared trending to the northward, and 
sufficiently wide, as Roswell thought, to 
Putting 


THE 


Benen a down, his schooner came heavily 
and, and was filled: on a course that 
on carried her half a mile into this pas- 
. At first, everything seemed pro- 
ious, the channel rather opening than 
herwise, while the course was such— 
rth-northwest—as enabled the vessel to 
ke very long legs on one tack, and 
at the best. After going about four or 
e times, however, all these flattering 
mptoms suddenly changed, by the pas- 
age terminating in aculdesac. Almost 
it the same instant the ice closed rapidly 
n the schooner’s wake. An effort was 
nade to run back, but it failed in conse- 
uence of an enormous floe’s turning on 
its center having met resistance froma 
field closer in, that was, in its turn, 
topped by the rocks. Roswell saw at 
nee that nothing could be done at the 
moment. He took in all his canvas, as 
well as the frozen cloth could be han- 
died, got out ice-anchors and hauled his 
‘vessel into a species of cove where there 
would be the least danger of a nip, paould 
the fields continue to close. 
all this time Daggett was as busy as a 
z: He rounded the headland, and flat- 
ered himself that he was about to slip 
pe ist all the rocks and get out into open 
Water, when the vast fields of which the 
blink had been seen even by those in the 
other vessel, suddenly stretched them- 
, ves across his course in a way that set 
b defiance all attempts to go any further 
| that direction. Daggett wore round 
nd endeavored to return, This was by 
means so easy as it was to go down 
k elore the wind, and his bows were also 
uch encumbered with ice; more so, in- 
ed, than those of the btitter schooner. 
nce or twice his craft missed stays in 
on Sequence of getting so much by the 
ad, and it was deemed necessary to 
ave-to and take to the axes. <A great 
al of extra and cumbrous weight was 
otten rid of, but an hour of most precious 
me was lost. 
By the time Daggett was ready to make 
il again, he found his return round the 
adland was entirely cut off, by the field’s 
Ving come in absolute contact with the 


SHA LIONS. 


169 


It was now midnight, and the men on 
board both vessels required rest. A. 
watch was set in each, and most of the 
people were permitted to turn in. Of 
course proper lookouts were had, but the 
light of the moon was not sufficiently dis- 
tinct to render it safe to make any final 
efforts under its favor. No great alarm 
was felt, there being nothing unusual in 
the vessel’s being embayed in the ice; 
and so long as she was not nipped or 
pressed upon by actual contact, the posi- 
tion was thought safe rather than the re- 
verse. It was desirable, moreover, for 
the schooners to communicate with each 
other; for some advantage might be 
known to one of the masters that was 
concealed by distance from his companion. 
Without concert, therefore, Roswell and 
Daggett came to the same general conclu- 
sions, and waited patiently. 

The day came at last, cold and dreary, 
though not altogether without the relief 
of an air that blew from regions far 
warmer than the ocean over which it was 
now traveling. Then the two schooners 
became visible from each other, and Ros- 
well saw the jeopardy of Daggett, and 
Daggett saw the jeopardy of Roswell. 
The vessels were little more than a mile 
apart, but the situation of the Vineyard 
fion was much the most critical. She 
had made fast to the floe, but her support 
itself was in a steady and most imposing 
motion. As soon as Roswell saw the 
manner in which his consort was sur- 
rounded, and the very threatening aspect 
of the danger that pressed upon him, his 
first impulse was to hasten to him, with 
a party of his own people, to offer any 
assistance he could give. After looking 
at the ice immediately around his own 
craft, where all seemed to be right, he 
called over the names of six of his men, 
ordered them to eat a warm breakfast, 
and to prepare to accompany him. 

In twenty minutes, Roswell was leading 
his little party across the ice, each man 
carrying an ax, or some other implement 
that it was supposed might be of use. It 
was by no means difficult to proceed; for 
the surface of the floe, one seemingly 
more than a league in extent, was quite 


170 WORKS 
smooth, and the snow on it was crusted 
to a strength that would have borne a 
team. 

‘“The water between the ice and the 
rocks is a much narrower strip than I had 
thought,’’ said Roswell, to his constant 
attendant Stimson. ‘‘Here it does not 
appear to be a hundred yards in width.”’ 

“Nor is it, sir—whew—this trotting in 
so cold a climate makes a man puff like a 
whale blowing—but, Captain Gar’ner, 
that schooner will be cut in two before we 
can get to her. Look, sir; the floe has 
reached the rocks already, quite near her, 
and it does not stop the drift at all, seem- 
ingly.’’ 

Roswell made no reply; the state of 
the Vineyard Lion did appear to be much 
more critical than he had previously im- 
agined. Until he came nearer to. the 
land, he had formed no notion of the 
steady power with which the field was 
setting down on the rocks on which the 
broken fragments were now creeping like 
creatures endowed with life. Occasionally, 
there would be loud disruptions, and the 
movement of the floe would become more 
rapid ; then, again, a sort of pause would 
succeed, and for a moment the approach- 
ing party felt a gleam of hope. But all 
expectations of this sort were doomed to 
be ee ubpamted, 

*‘ Look, sir,’’ exclaimed Stimson—‘ she 
went down afore it twenty fathoms at 
that one set. She must be awful near the 
rocks, sir.’’ 

All the men now stopped. They knew 
they were powerless ; and intense anxiety 
rendered them averse to move. Attention 


appeared to interfere with their walking | 


on the ice; and each held his breath in 
expectation. They saw that the schooner, 
then less than a cable’s length from them, 
was close to the rocks; and the next 
shock, if anything like the last, must 
overwhelm her. To their astonishment, 
instead of being nipped, the schooner rose 
by a stately movement that was not with- 
out grandeur, upheld by broken cakes 
that had got beneath her bottom, and 
fairly reached the shelf of rocks almost 
unharmed. Not aman had left her; but 
there she was, placed on the shore, some 


OF FENIMORE COOPER 


go back, sir; 


twenty feet above the surface of the sea, 
on rocks worn smooth by the action of the 
waves! Had the season been propitious, — 
and did the injury stop here, it might have — 
been possible to get the craft into the water 
again, and still carry her to America. 

But the floe was not yet arrested. Cake 
succeeded cake, one riding over another, — 
until a wali of ice rose along the shore, 
that Roswell and his companions, with all | 
their activity and courage, had great 
difficulty in crossing. They succeeded in 
getting over it, however; but when they 
reached the unfortunate schooner, she | 
was literally buried. The masts were 
broken, the sails torn, rigging scattered, | 
and sides stove. The Sea Lion of Martha’s _ 
Vineyard was a worthless wreck—worth- 
less as to all purposes but that of being 
converted into materials for a smaller 
craft, or to be used as fuel. ; 

All this had been done in ten minutes! . 
Then it was that tne vast superiority of 
Nature over the resources of man made it-— 
self apparent. The people of the two ves- 
sels stood aghast with this sad picture of — 
their own insignificance before their eyes. 
The crew of the wreck, it is true, had es- l 
caped without difficulty ; the movement — 
having been as slow and steady as it was 
irresistible. But there they were, in the 
clothes they had on, with all their effects — 
buried under piles of ice that were already 
thirty or forty feet in height. 

“She looks as if she was built there, — 
Gar’ner!’’ Daggett coolly observed, as 
he stood regarding the scene with eyes as : 
intently riveted on the wreck as human 
organs were ever fixed on any object. } 
‘Had a man told me this could happen, I 
would not have believed him ! ’ 

‘‘Had she been a three-decker, this ice 
would have treated her in the same way. 
There is a force in such a field that walls 
of stone could not withstand.”’ ( 

‘Captain Gar’ner—Captain Gar’ner,’ 
called out Stimson, hastily ; ‘‘we’d better 
our own craft is in danger. | 
She is drifting fast in toward the cape, and 
may reach it afore we can get to her!” — 

Sure enough, it was so. In one of the | 
changes that are so unaccountable among 
the ice, the floe had taken a sudden and 


| 
i 


— 


_ powerful direction toward the entrance of 
e Great Bay. It was probably owing 
the circumstance that the inner field 
ad forced its way past the cape, and 
_ made room for its neighbor to follow. A 
‘few of Daggett’s people, with Daggett 
. himself, remained to see what might yet 
_ be saved from the wreck; but all the rest 
of the men started for the cape, toward 
“which the Oyster Pond craft was now 
‘directly setting. The distance was less 
than a league; and, as yet, there was not 
“much snow on the rocks. By taking an 
"upper shelf, it was possible to make pretty 
- good progress; and such was the manner 
_ of Roswell’s present march. 

It was an extraordinary sight to see the 
| coast along which our party was hasten- 
ing, just at that moment. As the cakes 
of ice were broken from the field, they 
_ were driven upward by the vast pressure 
- from without, and the whole line, of the 
shore seemed as if alive with creatures 
that were issuing from the ocean to clam- 
ber on the rocks. Roswell had often seen 
that very coast peopled with seals, as it 
_ now appeared to be in activity with frag- 
ments of ice, that were writhing, and 
turning, and rising, one upon another, as 
if possessed of the vital principle. 
Inhalf an hour Roswell and his party 
reached the house. The schooner was 
then less than half a mile from the spot, 
still setting in, along with the outer field, 
but not nipped. So far from being in 
danger of such a calamity, the little basin 
in which she lay had expanded instead of 
“closing; and it would have been possible 
to handle a quick-working craft in it, 
: under her canvas. An exit, however, was 
- quite out of the question ; there being no 
sign of any passage to or from that icy 
dock. There the craft still lay, anchored 
to the weather-floe, while the portion of 
her crew which remained on board was as 
anxiously watching the coast as those who 
were on the coast watched her. At first, 
Roswell gave his schooner up; but on 
_ ¢loser examination found reason to hope 
that she might pass the rocks, and enter 
the inner, rather than the Great Bay. 

ee 


THK SHA LIONS. 


171 
CHAPTER XXIII. 


‘*To prayer ;—for the glorious sun is gone, 
And the gathering darkness of night comes on; 
Like a curtain from God’s kind hand it flows, 
To shade the couch where his children repose. 
Then kneel, while the watching stars are bright, 
And give your last thoughts to the guardian of 
night.” —WARE. 


DESOLATE, indeed, and nearly devoid of 
hope, had the situation of our sealers now 
become. It was midday, and it was freez- 
ing everywhere inthe shade. A bright 
genial sun was shedding its glorious rays 
on the icy panorama; but it was so ob- 
liquely as to be of hardly any use in dis- 
pelling the frosts. Far as the eye could 
see, even from the elevation of the cape, 
there was nothing but ice, with the excep- 
tion of that part of the Great Bay into 
which the floe had not yet penetrated. 
To the southward there stood clustering 
around the passage a line of gigantic 
bergs, placed like sentinels, as if purpose- 
ly to stop all egress in that direction. The 
water had lost its motion in the shift of 
the wind, and new ice had formed over 
the whole bay, as was evident by a white 
sparkling line that preceded the irresisti- 
ble march of the floe. 

As Roswell gazed on this scene, serious 
doubts darkened his mind as to his escap- 
ing from this frozen chain until the return 
of another summer. It is true that a 
south wind might possibly produce a 
change, and carry away the blockading 
mass; but every moment rendered this so 
much the less probable. Winter, or what 
would be deemed winter in most regions, 
was already setting in; and should the 
ice really become stationary in and around 
the group, all hope of its moving must 
vanish for the next eight months. 

Daggett reached the house about an 
hour before sunset. He had succeeded in 
cutting a passage through the ice as far 
as the cabin-door of his unfortunate 
schooner, when there was no difficulty 
in descending into the interior parts of 
the vessel. The whole party came in 
staggering under heavy loads. Pretty 
much as a matter of course, each man 
brought his own effects. Clothes, to- 
bacco, rum, small-stores, bedding, quad- 


172 WORKS 
rants, and similar property, was that 
first attended to. At that moment, little 
was thought of the skins and oil. The 
cargo was neglected, while the minor 
articles had been eagerly sought. 
Roswell was on board his own schooner, 
now again in dangerous proximity to the 
cape. She was steadily setting in when 
Daggett rejoined him. The crew of the 
lost vessel remained in the house, where 
they lighted a fire and deposited their 
goods, returning to the wreck for another 
load, taking the double sets of wheels 
along with them. When the two masters 
met they conferred together earnestly, 
receiving into their councils such of the 
officers as were on board. The security 
of the remaining vessel was now all-im- 
portant ; and it was not to be concealed 
that she was in imminent jeopardy. The 
course taken by the floe was directly 
toward the most rugged part of Cape 
Hazard; and the rate of the movement 
such as to threaten a very speedy termi- 
nation of the matter. There was one cir- 
cumstance, however, and only that one, 
which offered a single chance to escape. 
The opening around the schooner still 
existed in part, about half of it having 
been lost in the collision with the outer- 
most point of the rocks. It was this 
Species of vacuum that, by removing all 
resistance at that particular spot, indeed, 
had given the field its most danger- 
ous cant, turning the movement of the 
vessel toward the rocks. The chance, 
therefore, existed in the possibility—and 
it was little more than a bare possibility— 
of moving the schooner in that small area 
of open water, and of taking her far 
enough south to clear the most southern 
extremity of the wall of stone that pro- 
tected the cove. As yet, this open water 
did not extend far enough to admit of the 
schooner’s being taken to the point in 
question; but it was slowly tending in 
that direction, and did not the basin close 
altogether ere that desirable object was 
achieved, the vessel might yet be saved. 
In order, however, to do this, it would be 
necessary to cut a sort of dock or slip in 
the ice of the cove, into which the craft 
might shoot, as a place of refuge. 


OF FENIMORE OOOPER. 


Once | 


within the cove, fairly behind the point o 
the rocks, there would be perfect safety 
if suffered to drift to the southward of 
that shelter, this schooner would probably 
be lost like her consort, and very much in 
the same manner. ¥ 
Gardiner now sent a gang of hands to 
the desired point, armed with saws, and 
the slip was comménced. The ice in the 
cove was still only two or three inches — 
thick, and the work went bravely on. In- 
stead of satisfying himself with cutting a 
passage merely behind the point of Tock 
Hazard opened one quite up into the cove, 
to the precise place where the schooner 
had so long been at anchor. Just asthe _ 
sun was setting, the crisis arrived. So 
heavy had been the movement toward the — 
rock, that Roswell saw he could delay no | 
longer. Were he to continue where he 
was, a projection on the cape would pre- — 
vent his passage to the entrance of the 
cove; he would beshut in, and he might | 
be certain that the Sea Lion would be : 
crushed if the floe pressed home on the 
shore. The ice-anchors were cut out ac- 
cordingly, the jib was hoisted, and the — 
schooner wore short round on her heel. a 
The space between the floe and the pro: 
jection in the rocks just named did we | 
now exceed a hundred feet; and it was. 
lessening fast. Much more room existed | 
on each side of this particular excrescence 
inthe rugged coast, the space north be- | 
ing still considerable, while that to the 
southward might be a hundred yards in | { 
width ; the former of these areas being | 
owing ous the form of the basin, and the 
latter to the shape of the shore. 
In the first of the basins named the 
schooner wore short round on her heel, — 
her foresail being set to help her. A 
breathless moment passed as she ran 
down toward the narrow strait. It was 
quickly reached, and that none too soon: ~) 
the opening now not exceeding sixty feet. 
The yards of the vessel almost brushed 
the rocks in passing ; but she went clear. 
As soon as in the lower basin, as one 
might call it,.the jib and foresail were 
taken in, and the head of the mainsail 
was got on the craft. This helped her to_ 
luff up toward the slip, which she reached 


. 
{ 


| 


aT — 


ur c er sufficient headway fairly to enter it. 
ines were thrown to the people on the 
, who soon hauled the schooner up to 
the head of her frozen dock. Three cheers 
k roke spontaneously out of the throats of 
fhe men, as they thus achieved the step 
which assured them of the safety of the 
vessel so far as the ice was concerned ! 
In this way do we estimate our advan- 
tages and disadvantages by comparison. 
’ In the abstract, the situation of the seal- 
ers was still sufficiently painful; though 
compared with what it would have been 
' with the other schooner wrecked, it was 
_ security itself. 

_ By this time it was quite dark; and a 
day of excitement and fatigue required a 
night of rest. After supping, the men 
turned in; the Vineyarders mostly in the 
house, where. they occupied their old 
bunks. -When the moon rose, the party 
from the wreck arrived with their carts 
well loaded, and themselves half’ frozen, 
notwithstanding their toil. In a short 
time all were buried in sleep. 

_ When Roswell Gardiner came on deck 
next morning his first glance told him 
how little was the chance of his party’s 
returning north that season. Thestrange 
floe had driven into the Great Bay, com- 
pletely covering its surface, lining the 
shores far and near with broken and glit- 
tering cakes of ice; and, as it were, 
hermetically sealing the place against all 
egress. New ice, an inch or two thick, or 
even six or eight inches thick, might have 
been sawed through, and a passage cut 
even for a league, should it be necessary. 
Such things were sometimes done, and 
2 great as would have been the toil, our 
sealers would have attempted it, in pref- 
erence to running the risk of passing a 
winter in that region. But almost des- 
perate as would have been even that 
source of refuge, the party was completely 
cut off from its possession. To think of 
sawing through ice as thick as that of the 
floe, for any material distance, would be 
like a project to tunnel the Alps. 


Roswell and Daggett that morning. The 
former was too manly and generous to 
indulge in reproaches, else might he well 


— _ THE SEA LIONS. 


_ Melancholy was the meeting between 


173 


have told the last that all this was owing 
to him. There is a singular propensity in 
us all to throw the burden of our own 
blunders on the shoulders of other folk. 
Roswell had a little of this weakness, 
overlooking the fact that he was his own 
master ; and as he had come to the group 
by himself, he ought to have left it in the 
same manner, as soon as his own particu- 
lar task was accomplished. But Roswell 
did not see this quite as distinctly as he 
saw the fact that Daggett’s detentions 
and indirect appeals to his better feelings 
had involved him in all these difficulties. 
Still, while thus he felt, he made no com- 
plaint. 

All hope of getting north that season 
now depended on the field-ice drifting 
away from the Great Bay before it got 
fairly frozenin. So jammed and crammed 
with it did every part of the bay appear 
to be, however, that little could be ex- 
pected from that source of relief. This 
Daggett admitted in the conversation he 
held with Roswell, as soon as the latter 
joined him on the rocky terrace beneath 
the house. 

‘The wisest thing we can do, then,”’ 
replied our hero, ‘‘will be to make as 
early preparations as possible to meet the 
winter. If we are to remain here, a day 
gained now will be worth a week a month 
hence. If we should happily escape, the 
labor thus expended will not kill us.’’ 

‘Quite true—very much as you Say, 
certainly,’? answered Daggett, musing. 
“‘T was thinking as you came ashore, 
Gar’ner, if a lucky turn might not be 
made in this wise: Ihave a good many 
skins in the wreck, you see, and you have 
a good deal of ile in your hold—now, by 
starting some of that ile, and pumping it 
out, and shooking the casks, room might 
be made aboard of you for all my skins. I 
think we could run all of the last over on 
them wheels in the course of a week.’’ 

‘Captain Daggett, it is by yielding so 
much to your skins that we have got into 
all this trouble.’’ 

‘‘Skins, measure for measure, in the - 
way of genni will bring a great deal 
more than ile.’ 

Roswell smiled, and muttered some- 


L174 


thing to himself, a little bitterly. He was 
thinking of the grievous disappointment 
and prolonged anxiety that,.it pained him 
to believe, Mary would feel at his failure 
to return home at the appointed time ; 
though it would probably have pained 
him more to believe she would not thus 
be disappointed and anxious. Here his 
displeasure, or its manifestation, ceased ; 
and the young man turned his thoughts 
on the present necessities of his situation. 

Daggett appearing very earnest on the 
subject of removing his skins before the 
snows came to impede the path, Roswell 
could urge no objections that would be 
likely to prevail; but his acquiescence 
was obtained by means of a hint from 
Stimson, who by this time had gained 
his officer’s ear. 

“Let him do it, Captain Gar’ner,’’ said 
the boat-steerer, in an aside, speaking re- 
Spectfully, but earnestly. ‘‘He’ll never 
stow ’em in our hold, this season at least; 
but they’ll make excellent filling-in for 
the sides of this hut.’’ 

‘‘ You think then, Stephen, that we are 
likely to pass the winter here ? ”’ 

‘“We are in the hands of Divine Provi- 
dence, sir, which will do with us as seems 
the best in the eyes of never-failing wis- 
dom. At all events, Captain Gar’ner, I 
think ’twill be safest to act at once as if 
we had the winter afore us. In my judg- 
ment, this house might be made a good 
deal more comfortable for us all, in such a 
case, than our craft; for we should not 
only have more room, but might have as 
many fires as we want, and more than we 
can find fuel for.’’ 

‘‘Ay, there’s the difficulty, Stephen. 
Where are we to find wood, throughout a 
polar winter, for even one fire ? ”’ 

«We must be saving, sir, and thought- 
ful, and keep ourselves warm as much as 
we can by exercise. I have had a taste of 
this once, in a small way, already; and 
know what ought to be done, in many 
partic’lars. In the first place, the men 
must keep themselves as clean as water 
will make them—dirt is a great helper of 
cold—and the water must be just as frosty 
as human natur’ can bear it. This will 
set everything into actyve movement 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


inside, and bring out warmth from they 
heart, as it might be. That’s my principle 4 
of keeping warm, Captain Gar’ner.”’ a 

“T dare say it may be a pretty good 
one, Stephen,’’ answered Roswell, “and 
we'll bear it in mind. As for stoves, we 
are well enough off, for there is one in the 
house, and a good large one it is ; then, 
there is a stove in each cabin, and there 
are the two cabooses. If we had fuel for 
them all, I should feel no concern on the 
score of warmth.”’ 

‘“‘Ther’s the wrack, sir. By cutting her 
up at once we should get wood enough, in 
my judgment, to see it out.’ 

Roswell made noreply ; but he looked 
intently at the boat-steerer for half a 
minute. The idea was new to him; and 
the more he thought on the subject, the 
greater was the confidence .it gave him in > 
the result. Daggett, he well knew, would — 
not consent to the 
schooner, wreck as it was, so long as the 
most remote hope existed of getting her — 
again into the water. The tenacity with © 
which this man clung to property was like — 
that which is imputed to the life of the cat ; 
and it was idle to expect any concessions, 
from him on a subject like that. Never- — 
theless, necessity is a hard master; and 


mutilation of his | 


if the question were narrowed down to 


one of burning the materials of a vessel | 


that was in the water, and in good con- | 


dition, and of burning those of one that 
was out of the water, with holes cut — 
through her bottom in several places, and 
otherwise so situated as to render repairs _ 


extremely difficult, if not impossible, even — 


Daggett would be compelled to submit to 


It was accordingly suggested to the | 


4 
i 
circumstances. ’ 
; 


people of the Vineyard Lion that they 
could do no better than to begin at once — 
to remove everything they could come at, — 
and which could be transported from the 
wreck to the house. As there was little 
to do on board the vessel afloat, her crew 
cheerfully offered to assist in this labor. 
The days were shortening sensibly and 
fast, and no time was to be lost, the dis- — 
tance being so great as to make two trips 
a day a matter of great labor. No sooner — 


was the plan adopted, therefore, than — 


- ‘It is unnecessary for us to dwell mi- 
-nutely on everything that occurred during 
the succeeding week or ten days. The 
wind shifted to southwest the very day 
that the Sea Lion got back into her little 
harbor; and this seemed to put a sudden 
check on the pressure of the vast floe. 
_ Nevertheless, there was no counter-move- 
ment, the ice remaining in the Great Bay 
seemingly as firmly fastened as if it had 
originally been made there. Notwith- 
standing this shift of the wind to a cold 
point of the compass, the thermometer 
_ rose, and it thawed freely about the mid- 
pe of the day, in all places to which the 
. rays of the sun had access. This enabled 
a Ene men to work with more comfort than 
they could have done in the excessively 
_ severe weather, as it was found that respi- 
ration became difficult when it was so very 
@eold. 
- Access was now obtained to the wreck 
by cutting a regular passage to the main 
hatch through the ice. The schooner 
stood nearly upright, sustained by frag- 
ments of the floe; and there were exten- 
sive caverns all around her, produced by 
the random manner in which the cakes 
had come up out of their proper element 
like so many living things. Among these 
caverns one might have wandered for 
miles without once coming out into the 
open air, though they were cold and cheer- 
less, and had little to attract the adven- 
turer after the novelty was abated. 
Inrising from the water the schooner 
had been roughly treated, but once sus- 
tained by the ice her transit had been easy 
and tolerably safe. Several large cakes 
lay on or over her, sustained more by other 
cakes that rested on the rocks than by the 
timbers of the vessel herself. These cakes 
formed a sort of roof, and, as they did not 
drip, they served to make a shelter against 
the wind; for, at the point where the 
1 wreck bes the southwest gales came howl- 
ing round the base of the mountain, pierc- 
ing the marrow itself in the bones. At 
the hut it was very different. There the 
heights made a lee that extended all over 
the cape, and for some distance to the 


THE SEA LIONS. 


175 


westward ; while the whole power the sun 
possessed in that high latitude was cast, 
very obliquely it is true, but clearly, and 
without any other drawback than its po- 
sition in the ecliptic, fairly on the terrace, 
the hut above, and the rocks around it. 
On the natural terrace, indeed, it was still 
pleasant to walk and work, and even to 
sit fora few hours inthe middle of the day ; 
for winter was not yet come in earnest in 
that frozen world. 

One of Roswell’s first objects was to 
transport most of the eatables from the - 
wreck ; for he foresaw the need there 
would be for everything of the _ sort. 
Neither vessel had laid in a stock of 
provisions for a longer period than about 
twelve months, of which nearly half were 
now gone. This allowance applied to 
salted meats and bread, which are usu- 
ally regarded as the base of a _ ship’s 
stores. There were several barrels: of 
flour, a few potatoes, a large quantity of 
onions, a few barrels of cornmeal, or 
‘‘injin,’’? as it is usually termed in Ameri- 
can parlance, an entire barrel of pickled 
cucumbers, another about half full of 
cabbage preserved in the same way, and 
an entire barrel of molasses. In addi- . 
tion, there_.was a cask of whiskey, a little 
wine and brandy to be used medicinally, 
sugar, brown, whitey-brown, and browny- 
white, and a pretty fair allowance of tea 
and coffee; the former being a Hyson- 
skin, and the latter San Domingo of no 
very high quality. Most of these articles 
were transported from the wreck to the 
house in the course of the few days that 
succeeded, though Daggett insisted on a 
certain portion of the supplies being left 
in his stranded craft. 

Not until this was done would Roswell 
listen to any proposal of Daggett’s to 
transfer the skins. Twice during these 
few days, indeed, did the Vineyard mas- 
ter come to a pause in his proceedings, as 
the weather grew milder, and gleams of 
a hope of being able to get away that 
season crossed his mind. On the last of 
these occasions of misgivings, Roswell 
was compelled to lead his brother master 
up on the plain of the island, to an eleva- 
tion of some three hundred feet above the 


176 


level of the ocean, and more than half! more of this ; 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


though it may be ocsivil | 


that distance higher than the house, and | to make a cover for the cargo, and return ! 
and recover it all, by freighting a craft 


point out to him a panorama of field-ice 
that the eye could not command. Until 
that vast plain opened, or became riven 
by the joint action of the agitated ocean 
and the warmth of a sun from which the 
rays did not glance away from the frozen 
surface, like light obliquely received and 
as obliquely reflected from a mirror, it 
was useless to think of releasing even 
the uninjured vessel; much less that 
which lay riven and crushed on the rocks. 

‘“Were every cake of this ice melted 
into water, Daggett,’? Roswell continued, 
“it would not float off your schooner. 
The best supplied shipyard in America 
could hardly furnish the materials for 
ways to launch her; and I never knew 
of a vessel’s being dropped into the 
water some twenty feet nearly perpen- 
dicular.’’ 

‘J don’t know that,”’ answered Daggett 
stoutly. ‘‘See what they’re doing nowa- 
days, and think nothing of it. I have 
seen a whole row of brick houses turned 
round by the use of jack-screws; and one 
building actually taken down a hill much 
higher than the distance you name. Com- 
modore Rodgers has just hauled a heavy 
frigate out of the water, and means to 


xX 


put her back again, when he has done 
with her. What has been done once can 
be done twice. I donot like giving up 
till I’m forced to it.’’ 

‘‘That is plain enough, Captain Dag- 
gett,’’ returned Roswell, smiling. ‘‘ That 
you are game, no one can deny; but it 
will all come to nothing. Neither Com- 
modore Rodgers nor Commodore any- 
body else could put your craft into the 
water again without something to do it 
with.”’ 

“You think it would be asking too 
much to take your schooner, and go 
across to the main next season a’ter 
timber to make ways?’’ put in Dag- 
gett, inquiringly. ‘‘She stands up like a 
church, and nothing would be easier than 
to lay down ways under her bottom.’’ 

“Or more difficult than to make them 
of any use, after you had put them there. 
No, no, my good sir, you must think no 


from Rio, on our way north.”’ 


Daggett gave a quick, inquisitive glance © 


| 


at his companion, and Roswell’s color 


mounted to his cheeks; 


for, while he 


really thought the plan just mentioned — 


quite feasible, he was conscious of foresee-_ 
ing that it might be made the means of 
throwing off his troublesome companion, — 


as he himself drew near to the West In- 
dies and their keys. 


This terminated the discussion for the 
Both of the masters busied them-— 


time. 


selves in carrying on the duty which had — 


now fallen into a regular train. As much 
of the interest of what is to be related 


will depend on what was done in these 4 
few days, it may be well to be a little 


more explicit in stating the particulars. 


The reader will understand that the — 


house, of which so much had already been — 
made by our mariners, was nothing but a_ 
It had a close roof, one that effect-_ 
ually turned water, and its siding, though — 


shell. 


rough, was tight and rather thicker than — 


is usual; being made of common inch 


boards, contd planed, and originally © 
painted red. There were four very toler- — 


able windows, and a decent substantial 


floor of planed plank. All this had been — 
well put together, rather more attention — 
than is often bestowed on such structures — 
having been paid by the carpenter to the 
cracks and joints on account of the known _ 
sharpness of the climate, even in the warm _ 


months. Still, all this made a mere shell. 
The marrow-freezing winds which would 


soon come—had indeed come—might be — 


arrested by such a covering, it is true; 
but the little needle-like particles of the 


frost would penetrate such a shelter, as | 


their counterparts of steel pierce cloth. 


It was a matter of life and death, there- — 


fore, to devise means to exclude the cold, 
in order that the vital heat might be kept 


in circulation during the tremendous sea-— 


son that was known to be approaching. 
Stimson had much to say on the subject 
of the arrangements taken. 


most experienced sealer. 


He was the { 
oldest man in the two crews, and the 
It happened — 


es es 


4 
) 


ate he le baa 


hat he had once passed a-winter at 
Orange Harbor, in the immediate vicinity 
of Cape Horn. It is true that it is an in- 
' habited country, if the poor degraded 
creatures who dwell there can be termed 
inhabitants ; and has its trees and vegeta- 
_ tion, such as they are. The difference be- 
_ tween Orange Harbor and Sealer’s Land, 
: this respect, must be something like 
that which all the traveling world knows 
to exist between a winter’s residence at 
the Hospital of the Great St. Bernard, 
and a winter’s residence at one of the 
villages a few leagues lower down the 
mountain. At Sealer’s Land, if there was 
' literally no vegetation, there was so little 
as scarcely to deserve the name. Of fuel 
there was none, with the exception of that 
which had been brought there. Never- 
_ theless, the experience of a winter passed 
_ insuch a place as Orange Harbor must 
count for a great deal. Cape Horn is in 
nearly 56°, and Sealer’s Land—we may as 
well admit this much—is by no means 10° 
to the southward of that. There must be 
certain general resemblance in the 
Climates of the two places; and he who 
had gone through a winter at one of them 
must have had a very tolerable foretaste 
of what was to be suffered at the other. 
This particular experience, therefore, 
added to his general knowledge, as well 
as to his character, contributed largely 
to Stephen’s influence in the consultations 
that took place between the two masters, 
at which he was usually present. 
It’s useless to be playing off in an 
affair like this, Captain Gar’ner,”’ said 
Stephen, on one occasion. ‘‘ Away from 
this spot all the navies of the ’arth ,could 
not now carry us, until God’s sun comes 
back in his course to drive the winter afore 
it. I have my misgivin’s, gentlemen, 
touching this great floe that has got jam- 
med in among these islands, whether it 
will ever move ag’in; for I don’t think its 
coming in here is a common matter.”’ 
_ ‘Tn which case, what. would become of 
‘us, Stephen ?”’ 


® 
a 


then, jist as we be now; or would be, was 
we on the east eend itself. I won’t say 
that two resolute and strong arms might 


Di 


\ 


_ “Why, sir, we should be at God’s mercy 


THH SHA LIONS. 


‘ 


177 
not cut a way through for one little craft 
like our’n, if they had summer fully afore 
’em, and know’d they was a-workin’ tow- 
ard a fri’nd instead of toward an inimy. © 
There’s a great dealin the last ; every man 
is encouraged when he thinks he’s nearer 
to the eend of his journey a’ter a hard 
day’s work, than he was when he set out 
in the mornin’. But to undertake sich an. 
expedition at thisseason would be sartain 
destruction. No, sir; all we can do now 
is to lay up for the winter, and that with 
great care and prudence. We must turn 
ourselves into so many ants, and show 
their forethought and care.”’ 

‘What would you recommend as our 
first step, Stimson ?’’ asked Daggett, who 
had been an attentive listener. 

“7 would advise, sir, to begin harden- 
ing the men as soon asI could. We have 
too much fire in the stove, both for our 
stock of wood and for the good of the 
people. Make the men sleep under fewer 
clothes, and don’t let any on’em hang 
about the galley fire, as some on ’em love 
to do, even now, most desperately. Them 
?ere men will be good for nothin’ ten 
weeks hence, unless they’re taken off the 
fires, as a body would take off a pot or a 
kettle, and are set out to harden.”’ 

“This is a process that may be easier 
advised than peformed, perhaps,’’ Ros- 
well quietly observed. 

<“Don’t you believe that, Captain Gar’- 
ner. I’ve known the most shiverin’, 
smoke-dried hands in a large crew hard- 
ened and brought to an edge, a’ter a little 
trouble, as a body would temper an ax 
with steel. Thefirst thing to be done is 
to make ’em scrub one another every 
mornin’ in cold water. This gives a life 
to the skin that acts much the same as a 
suit of clothes. Yes, gentlemen; put a 
fellow in a tub for a minute or two of 
a mornin’, and you may do almost any- 
thing you please with him all day a’ter- 
ward. One pail of water is ds good as a 
pea-jacket. And above all things, keep 
the stove clear. The cooks should be told 
not to drive their fires so hard; and we 
can do without the stove in the sleeping- 
room a great deal better now than most 
on us think. It will help to save much 


178 WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


wood, if we begin at once to calk and 
thicken our siding, and make the house 
warmer. Was the hut in good state, we 
might do without any other fire than that 
in the caboose for two months yet.’’ 

Such was the general character of Ste- 
phen’s counsel, and very good advice it 
was. Not only did Roswell adopt the 
scrubbing process, which enabled him to 
throw aside a great many clothes in the 
course of a week, but he kept aloft from 
the fires, to harden, as Stimson had called 
it. That which was thus enforced by exam- 
ple was additionally enjoined by precept. 
Several large, hulking, idle fellows, who 
greatly loved the fire, were driven away 
from it by shame; and the heat was al- 
lowed to diffuse itself more equally 
through the building. 

Any one who has ever had occasion to 
be a witness of the effect of the water- 
cure process in enabling even delicate 
women to resist cold and damp, may form 
some notion of the great improvement 
that was made among our sealers, by 
adopting and rigidly adhering to Stim- 
son’s cold-water and no-fire system. 
Those who had shivered at the very 
thoughts of ice-water, soon dabbled in it 
Jike young ducks; and there was scarcely 
an hour in the day when the half-hogs- 
head, that was used as a bath, had notits 
tenant. This tub was placed on the ice of 
the cove, with a tent over it; and a well 
was made through which the water was 
drawn. Of course, the ax was in great 
request, a new hole being required each 
morning, and sometimes two or three 
times in the course of the day. The effect 
of these ablutions was very soon apparent. 
The men began to throw aside their pea- 
jackets, and worked in their ordinary 
clothing, which was warm and suited to a 
high latitude, with a spirit and vigor at 
which they were themselves surprised. 
The fire in the caboose sufficed as yet; 
and, at evening, the pea-jacket, with the 
shelter of the building, the crowded rooms, 
and the warm meals, for a long time en- 
abled them to get on* without consuming 
anything in the largest stove. Stimson’s 
plans for the protection of the hut, more- 
over, Soon began to tell. The skins, sails, 


| 


and much of the rigging were brought . 
over from the wreck; by means of the 
carts, so long as thera was no snow, and — | 
by means of sledges when the snow fell 
and rendered wheeling difficult, Luckily, 
the position of the road along the rocks 
caused the upper snow to melt a little at. 
noon-day, while it froze again, firmer and — 
firmer, each night. The crust soon bore, 
and it was found that the sledges fur- 
nished even better means of transporta- | 
tion than the wheels. . 

There was a little controversy about 
the use of the skins, Daggett continuing 
to regard them as cargo. Necessity and 
numbers prevailed in the end, and the 
whole building was lined with them, four 
or five deep, by placing them inside of 
beckets made of the smaller rigging. By 
stuffing these skins compactly, within — 
ropes so placed as to keep all snug, a very 
material defense against the entrance of 
cold was interposed. But this was not 
all. Inside of the skins Stimson got up 
hangings of canvas, using the sails of the 
wreck for that purpose. It was not nec- — 
essary to cut these sails—Daggett would — 
not have suffered it—but they were sus- 
pended, and cramped into openings, and 
otherwise so arranged as completely to 
conceal and shelter every side, as well as 
the ceilings of both rooms. Portions were 
fitted with such address as to fall before 
the windows, to which they formed very 
warm if not very ornamental curtains. 
Stephen, however, induced Roswell to or- 
der outside shutters to be made and hung ; 
maintaining that ene such shutter would 
soon count as a dozen cords of wood. 

Much of the wood, too, was brought | 
over from the wreck; and that which had 
been carelessly abandoned on the rocks 
was all collected and piled carefully and 
conveniently near the outer door of the — 
hut; which door, by the way, looked in- 
ward, or toward the rocks in the rear of 
the building, where it opened on a sort of 
yard, that Roswell hoped to be able to — 
keep clear of ice and snow throughout the 
winter. He might as well have expected 
to melt the glaciers of Grindewald by 
lighting a fire on the meadows at their 
base ! 


_ Stephen had another project to protect 
the house,.and to give facilities for mov- 
ing outside, when the winter should be at 
| the hardest. In his experience at Orange 
_ Harbor, he had found that great incon- 
| venience was sustained in consequence of 
a jhe snow’s melting around the building he 
- inhabited, which came from the warmth 
of the fire within. To avoid this, a very 
~ serious evil, he had spare sails of heavy 
_ €anvas laid across the roof of the ware- 
_ house, a building of no great height, and 
3 secured them to the rocks beiow by means 
of anchors, kedges, and various other de- 
vices ; in some instances, by lashings to 
q "projections in the cliffs. Spare spars, 
_ deaning from the roof, supported this 
_ tent-like covering, and props beneath sus- 
tained the spars. This arrangement was 
made on only two sides of the building— 
_ one end, and the side which looked to the 
| ‘north ; materials failing before the whole 
_ place was surrounded. The necessity for 
; admitting light, too, admonished the seal- 
ers of the inexpediency of thus shrouding 
all their windows. The bottom of this 
tent was only ten feet from the side of 
the house, which gave it greater security 
than if it had been more horizontal, while 
it made a species of veranda in which 
exercise could be taken with greater free- 
dom than inthe rooms. Everything was 
done to strengthen the building in all its 
parts that the ingenuity of seamen could 
suggest; and particularly to prevent the 
ee erandah from caving in. 

_ Stephen intimated that their situation 
Re issesied one great advantage, as well as 
| _ disadvantage. Inconsequence of standing 
ona shelf with a lower terrace so close as 
to be within the cast of a shovel, the 
Snow might be thrown below and the hut 
relieved. The melted snow, too, would be 
apt to take the same direction, under the 
law that governs the course of all fluids. 
‘The disadvantage was in the barrier of 
‘rock behind the hut, which, while it served 
admirably to break the piercing south 
winds, would very naturally tend to make 
high snow-banks in drifting storms. 


; 


yey ey 
ij 
‘ 


THE SEA 


LIONS. 


ree ti 


‘* My foot on the iceberg has lighted, 
When hoarse the wild winds veer about, 
My eye, when the bark is benighted, 
Sees the lamp of the lighthouse go out. 

I’m the sea-bird, sea-bird, sea-bird, 
Lone looker on despair ; 

The sea-bird, sea-bird, sea-bird, 
The only witness there.’’—BRAINARD, 


Two months passed rapidly away in 
the excitement and novelty of the situa- 
tion and pursuits of the men. In that 
time, all was done that the season would 
allow; the house being considered as 
complete, and far from uncomfortable. 
The days had rapidly lessened in length, 
and the nights increased proportionably, 
until the sun was visible only for a few 
hours at a time, and then merely pass- 
ing low along the northern horizon. The 
cold increased in proportion, though the 
weather varied almost as much in that 
high latitude as it does in our own. It 
had ceased to thaw much, however; and 
the mean of the thermometer was not 
many degrees above zero. Notwithstand- 
ing this low range of the mercury, the 
men found that they were fast getting ac- 
climated, and that they could endure a 
much greater intensity of cold than they 
had previously supposed possible. As yet, 
there had been nothing to surprise natives 
of New York and New England, there 
rarely occurring a winter in which 
weather quite as cold as any they had 
yet experienced in the antarctic sea does 
not set in, and last for some little time. 
Even while writing this very chapter of 
our legend, here in the mountains of Ot- 
sego, one of these Siberian visits has been 
paid to our valley. For the last three 
days the thermometer has ranged, at 
sunrise, between 17° and 22° below zero ; 
though there is every appearance of a 
thaw, and we may have the mercury up 
to 40° above in the course of the next 
twenty-four hours. Men accustomed to 
such transitions, and such extreme cold, 
are not easily laid up or intimidated. 

A great deal of snow fell about this 
particular portion of the year; more, in- 
deed, than at a later period. This snow 
produced the greatest inconvenience; for 


180 


it soon became so deep as to form high 
banks around the house, and to fill all 
the customary haunts of the men. Still, 
there were places that were in a great 
measure exempt from this white mantle. 
The terrace immediately below the hut, 
‘ which has so often been mentioned, was 
one of these bare spots. It was so placed 
as to be swept by both the east and the 
west winds, which generally cleared it of 
everything like snow, as fast as it fell; 
and this more effectually than could be 
done by a thousand brooms. The level of 
rock usually traveled in going to or from 
the wreck was another of these clear 
places. It was a sort of shelf, too narrow 
to admit of the snows banking, and too 
much raked by the winds that commonly 
accompanied snow, to suffer the last to 
lodge to any great depth. Snow there 
was, with a hard crust, as has already 
been mentioned ; but it was not snow ten 
or fifteen feet deep, as occurred in many 
other places. There were several points, 
however, where banks had formed, even 
on this ledge, through which the men 
were compelled to cut their way by the 
use of shovels, an occupation that gave 
them exercise, and contributed to keep 
them in health if it was of no other ser- 
vice. It was found that the human 
frame could not endure one-half the toil, 
in that low state of the mercury, that it 
could bear in one a few degrees higher. 
Daggett had not, by any means, aban- 
doned his craft as much as he had per- 
mitted her to be dismantled. Every day 
or two he had some new expedient for 
getting the schooner off in the spring; 
though all who heard them were perfectly 
convinced of their impracticableness. This 
feeling induced him to cause his own men 
to keep open the communication; and 
scarce a day passed in which he did not 
visit the poor unfortunate craft. Nor was 
the place without an interest of a very 
peculiar sort. It has been said that the 
fragments of ice, some of which were more 
than a hundred feet in diameter, and all 
of which were eight or ten feet in thick- 
ness, had been left on their edges, inclin- 
ing ina way to form caverns that extended 
a great distance. Now it happened that 


WOkLKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


just around the wreck the cakes were so 


distributed as to intercept the first snows 


which filled the outer passages, got to be 


hardened, and, covered anew by fresh | 
storms, thus interposed an effectual bar- 
rier to the admission of any more of the 


frozen element within the ice. The effect 


-—. 


was to form a vast range of natural gal-— 


leries amid the cakes, that were quite 


clear of any snow but that which had 
adhered to their surfaces, and which — 
offered little or no impediment to motion — 


—nay, which rather aided it, by rendering 


the walking less slippery. As the deck of — 


the schooner had been cleared, leaving an 
easy access to all its entrances, cabin, 


hold, and forecastle, this put the Vineyard 


favon under cover, while it admitted of all 


her accommodations being used. A por-— 
tion of her wood had been left in her, it 1 


will be remembered, as well as her caboose. 
The last was got into the cabin, and Dag- 
gett, attended by two or three of his 
hands, would pass a good deal of his time 
there. One reason given for this distribu- 
tion of the forces, was the greater room it 


allowed those who remained at the hut 


for motion. The deck of this vessel being 
quite clear, it offered a very favorable spot 
for exercise ; better, in fact, than the ter- 
race beneath the hut, being quite sheltered 
from the winds, and much warmer than 
it had been originally, or ever since the 
heavy fall of snows commenced. Daggett 
paced his quarter-deck hour after hour, 
almost deluding himself with the expecta- 


tion of sailing for home as soon as the 


return of summer would permit him to 
depart. 


Around the hut the snow early made | | 
Every one accus- — 


vast embankments. 


tomed to the action of this particular | 


condition of one of the great elements, 
will understand that a bend in the rocks 
outward, or a curve inward, must neces- 


sarily affect the manner in which these 
banks were formed. The wind did not, by 
any means, blow from any one point of — 
the compass; though the southwestern — 


cliffs might be almost termed the weather- 


side of the island, so much more frequent- — 


ly did the gales come from that quarter 
than from any other. The cape where the 


eee 


as 
cove lay, and where the house had been 
set up, being at the northeastern point, 
and much protected by the high tableland 
- inits rear, it occupied the warmest situa- 
_ tion in the whole region. The winds that 
‘swept most of the north shore, but which, 
owing to a curvature in its formation, did 
not often blow home to the hut, even when 
_ they whistled along the terrace only a 
hundred feet beneath, and more salient, 
_ were ordinarily from the southwest out- 
_ side; though they got a more westerly 
inclination by following the land under 
the cliffs. 
_ A bank of snow may be either a cause 
of destruction or a source of comfort. Of 
course, a certain degree of cold must ex- 
_ ist wherever snow is to be found; but.un- 
less in absolute contact with the human 
body, it does not usually affect the system 
beyond a certain point. On the other 
hand, it often breaks the wind, and it has 
‘been known to form a covering to flocks, 
houses, etc., that has contributed essen- 
tially to their warmth. We incline to 
the opinion that if one slept in a cavern 
formed in the snow, provided he could 
_keep himself dry, and did not come in ab- 
solute contact with the element, he would 
not find his quarters very uncomfortable, 
so long as he had sufficient clothing to 
confine the animal warmth near his per- 
son. Now our sealers enjoyed some such 
advantage as this; though not literally in 
the same degree. Their house was not 
covered with snow, though a vast bank 
was already formed quite nearit, anda 
good deal had begun to pile against the 
‘tent. Singular as it may seem, on the 
east end of the building, and on the south 
front, which looked in toward the cliff 
next the cove, there was scarcely any 
snow at all. This was in part owing to 
the constant use of the shovel and broom, 
but more so to the currents of air, which 
usually carried everything of so light a 
nature as a flake to more quiet spots, .be- 
fore it was suffered to settle on the ground. 
Roswell early found, what his experi- 
ence as an American might have taught 
him, that the melting of the snow, in 
consequence of the warmth of the fires, 
caused much more inconvenience than the 


ey 
ay 


THH SHA LIONS. 


18] 


snow itself. The latter, when dry, was 
easily got along with; but, when melted 
in the day, and converted into icicles at 
night, it became a most unpleasant and 
not altogether a safe neighbor; inasmuch 
as there was really danger from the sort 
of damp atmosphere it produced. 

The greatest ground of Roswell Gardi- 
ner’s apprehensions, however, was for the 
supply of fuel. Much of that brought 
from home had been fairly used in the 
caboose, and in the stove originally set 
up in the hut. Large as that stock had 
been, a very sensible inroad had been 
made upon it; and, according to a cal- 
culation he had made, the wood regularly 
laid in would not hold out much more 
than half the time that it would be indis- ° 
pensable to remain on the island. This 
was a grave circumstance, and one that 
demanded very serious consideration. 
Without fuel it would be impossible to 
survive ; no hardening process being: suf- 
ficient to fortify the human frame to a 
degree that would resist the influenee of 
an antarctic winter. 

From the moment it was probable the 
party would be obliged to pass the winter 
at Sealer’s Land, therefore, Roswell had 
kept a vigilant eye on the wood. Stimson 
had more than once spoken to him on the 


subject, and with great prudence. 

‘Warmth must be kept among sf 
said the old boat-steerer, ‘‘or there wil 
be no hope for the stoutest man in either 
crew. We’ve a pretty good stock of 
coffee, and that is better, any day, than 
all the rum and whiskey that was ever 
distilled. Good hot coffee of a morning 
will put life into us the coldest day that 
ever come out of either pole; and they 
do say the south is colder than the north, 
though I never could understand why it 
should be so.’’ 

‘‘ You surely understand the reason why 
it grows warmer as we approach the equa- 
tor, and colder as we go from it, whether 
we go north or south ?”’ 

Stimson assented ; though had the truth 
been said, he would have been obliged to 
confess that he knew no more than the 
facts. 

' All sailors know sich things, Captain 


ha 


f, 
* « 


182 WORKS 
Gar’ner; though they know it with very 
different degrees of exper’ence. But few 
get as far south as I have been to pass a 
winter. A good pot of hot coffee of a 
morning will go as far as a second pea- 
jacket, if a man has to go out into the 
open air when the weather is at the 
hardest.”’ 

“Luckily, our small stores are quite 
abundant, and we are better off for coffee 
and sugar than for anything else. I laid 
in of both liberally when we were at Rio.”’ 

“Yes, Rio is a good place for the arti- 
cles. But coffee must be hot to do a fel- 
low much good in one of these high-latitude 
winters; and to be hot there must be fuel 
to heat it.”’ 

*‘T am afraid the wood will not hold out 
much more than half the time we shall be 
here. Fortunately, we had a large sup- 
ply; but the other schooner was by no 
means as well furnished with fuel as she 
ought to have been for such a voyage.”’ 

‘* Well, sir, I suppose you know what 
must be done next in such a case. With- 
out warm food, men can no more live 
through one of these winters, than they 
can live without food at all. If the Vine- 
yard craft has no proper fuel aboard her, 
we must make fuel of her.’’ 

Roswell regarded Stephen with fixed 
ttention for some time. The idea was 
presented to his mind for the second time, 
and he greatly liked it. 

“That might do,’’ he said; “‘ though it 
will not be an easy matter to make Cap- 
tain Daggett consent to such a thing.’’ 

“Let him go two or three mornings 
without his warm meal and hot coffee,’ 
answered Stimson, shaking his head, 
““and he will be glad enough to come into 
the scheme. A man soon gets willing 
to set fire to anything that will burn in 
such a climate. A notion has been float- 
ing about in my mind, Captain Gar’ner, 
that DPve several times thought I would 
mention to you. D’ye think, sir, any 


- benefit could be made of that volcano over 


the bay, should the worst get to the worst 
with us ?”’ 

““T have thought of the same thing, 
| Stephen ; though I fear in vain. I sup- 
“pose no useful heat can be given out there, 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


until one gets too near the bad air to- 
What you say about break- 


breathe it. 
ing up the other schooner, however, is 


worthy of consideration ; and I will speak | 


to Captain Daggett about it.” 


Roswell was as good as his word, and q 
the Vineyard mariner met the proposal 


as one repels an injury. Never were our 
two masters so near a serious misunder- 


standing, as when Roswell suggested to — 
Daggett the expediency of breaking up — 


the wreck, now that the weather was 


endurable, and the men could work with — 


reasonable comfort and tolerable advan- 
tage. 

“The man who puts an ax or a saw 
into that unfortunate craft,” said Dag- 
sett, firmly, “‘Ishallregard as an enemy. 
It isa hard enough bed that she lies on, 


without having her ribs and sides torn to — 


pieces by hands.”’ 

This was the strange spirit in which 
Daggett continued to look at the condition 
of the wreck. It was true that the ice 
prevented his actually seeing the impos- 
sibility of his ever getting his schooner 


into water again; but no man at allac- 


quainted with mechanics, and who knew 
the paucity of means that existed on the 
island, could for a moment entertain the 
idle expectation that seemed to have got 
into the Vineyard-master’s mind, unless 
subject to a species of one-idea infatuation. 
This infatuation, however, existed not only 
in Daggett’s mind, but in some degree in 
those of his men. It is said that “in a 
multitude of counselors there is wisdom ; ”? 
and the axiom comes from an authority 


| too venerable to be disputed. But it 


might almost with equal justice be said 
that ‘“‘in a multitude of counselors there 


is folly ;’’ for men are quite as apt to sus- 


tain each other in the wrong as in the right. 


The individual who would hesitate about — 
advancing his fallacies and mistakes with a } 


single voice, does not scruple to proclaim 
them on the hilltops, when: he finds other 
tongues to repeat his errors. Divine wis- 
dom, foreseeing this consequence of human 
weakness, has provided a church- catholic, 
and proceeding directly from its Great 
Head on earth, as the repository of those 
principles, facts, and laws, that it has 


THE 


_ deemed essential to the furtherance of its 
own scheme of moral government on 
a earth ; and yet we see audacious imitators 
starting up on every side, presuming in 
their ignorance, longing in their ambition, 
- and envious in these longings, who do not 
- seruple to shout out upon the housetops 
erudities over which knowledge wonders 
as it smiles, and humility weeps. as it 
wonders. Suchisman, when sustained by 
hisfellows, in every interest of life; from 
religion, the highest of all, down to the 
' most insignificant of his temporal con- 
a cerns. 
| In this spirit did Daggett and his crew 
now feel andact. Roswell had early seen, 
. with regret, that something like a feeling 
of party was getting up among the Vine- 
_yarders, who had. all along regarded the 
better fortune of their neighbors with an 
 ill-concealed jealousy. Ever since the 
shipwreck, however, this rivalry had taken 
anew and even less pleasant aspect. It 
was slightly hostile, and remarks had been 
occasionally made that sounded equivo- 
cally; as if the Vineyarders had an inten- 
tion of separating from the other crew, 
_and of living by themselves. It is prob- 
able, however, that all this was the fruit 
of disappointment; and that, at the bot- 
tom, nothing very serious was in contem- 
plation. Daggett had permitted his peo- 
ple to aid in transporting most of the 
stores to the house; though a considerable 
supply had been left in the wreck. . This 
last arrangement was made seemingly 
without any hostile design, but rather in 
furtherance of a plan to pass as much 
time as circumstances would allow on 
board the stranded vessel. There was, in 
truth, a certain convenience in this scheme 
that commended it to the good sense of 
all. So long as any portion of the Vine- 
_ yarders could be made comfortable in the 
wreck it was best they should remain 
there ; for it saved the labor of transport- 
pine all the provisions, and made more 
room to circulate in and about the house. 
~The necessity of putting so many casks, 
P barrels, and boxes within doors, had ma- 
 terially circumscribed the limits; and 
space was a great desideratum for several 
reasons, health in particular. 


3 i i. 


aie 


SEA LIONS. 


tolerated in either gang. 


183 


Roswell was glad, therefore, when any 
of the Vineyarders expressed a wish to go 
to the wreck and to pass a few days there. 
With a view to encourage this disposition, 
as well as to ascertain how those fared 
who chose that abode, he paid Daggett a 
visit, and passed a night or two himself in 
the cabin of the craft. This experiment 
told him that it was very possible to exist 
there when the thermometer stood at 
zero; but how it would do when ranging 
a great deal lower he had hisdoubts. The 


cabin was small, and a very moderate fire 


in the caboose served to keep it reasonably 
warm; though Daggett, at all times a 
reasonable and reasoning man, when the 
‘root of all evil’’ did not sorely beset 
him, came fully into his own views as to 
the necessity of husbanding the fuel and 
of hardening the men. None of that close 
stewing over stoves, which is so common 
in America, and which causes one half of 
the winter diseases of the climate, was 
Daggett saw 
the prudence of Roswell’s, or rather of 
Stimson’s system, and fell into it freely 
and with hearty good-will. It was during 
Gardiner’s visit to the wreck that our two 
masters talked over their plans for the 
winter, while taking their exercise on the 
schooner’s deck, each well muffled up to 
prevent the frost from taking hold of the 
more exposed parts. Every one had a 
seal-skin cap, made in a way to protect 
the ears and most of the face; and our 
two masters were thus provided, in com- 
mon with their men. 

‘©T suppose that we are to consider this 
as pleasant winter weather,’’ Roswell 
remarked, ‘‘ the thermometer being down 
only at zero. Stimson tells me that even 
at Orange Harbor, the season he was 
there, they paid out mercury until it all 
got into the ball. A month or two hence 
we may look out for the season of frosts, 
as the Injuns call it. You will hardly 
think of staying out here when the really 
hard weather sets in.’’ 

‘©T do not believe we shall feel the cold 
much more than we do now. This daily 
washing is a capital stove; for I find all 
hands say that, when it is once over, they 
feel like new men. As for me, I shall 


184 


stick by my craft while there is a timber 


left in her to float ! ”’ 


Roswell thought how absurd it was to 
cling thus to a useless mass of wood, and 
iron, and copper; but he said nothing on 


that subject. 


‘Tam now sorry that we took over to 
the house so many of our supplies,’’ Dag- 
oT 
am afraid that many of them will have 


gett continued, after a short pause. 


to be brought back again.”’ 


“That would hardly quit cost, Dag- 
gett; it would be better to come over and 
pass the heel of the winter with us, when 
AS we 
eat, we make room in the hut, you know ; 
and you will be so much the more com- 
An empty pork-barrel was 
yesterday 


the supplies get to be short here. 


fortable. 
broken up for the caboose 
morning.’”’ 

‘* We shall see—we shall see, Gar’ner. 


My men have got a notion that your people 


intend to break up this schooner for fuel, 


should they not keep an anchor-watch 


aboard her.”’ 

** Anchor-watch !’’ repeated Roswell, 
smiling. 
was an anchor-watch, you keep it here; 


for no ground tackle will ever hold like 


this.’’ 

“We still think the schooner may be 
got off,” Daggett said, regarding his com- 
panion inquiringly. | 

While the Vineyard-man had a certain 
distrust of his brother-master, he had also 
a high respect for his fair-dealing propen- 
sities, and a strong disposition to put con- 
fidence in his good faith. The look that 
he now gave was, if possible, to read the 
real opinion of the other, in a countenance 
that seldom deceived. | 

“T shall be grateful to God, Captain 
Daggett, returned Roswell, after a short 
pause, “‘if we get through the long win- 
ter of this latitude, without burning too 
much of both craft, than will be for our 
good. Surely it were better to begin on 
that which is in the least serviceable con- 
dition ? ”’ 

“Thave thought this matter over, Gar’- 
ner, with all my mind—have dreaimt of it 
—slept on it—hadit before meat all hours 
and in all weathers; and, look at itas I 


WORKS OF FENIM ORE COOPER. 


‘“It is well named—if there ever 


home ag’in, if we’ll consent to let this 
craft be burned ? ”’ 

‘“‘It exceeds my power to make any such 
bargain. I have an owner who looks 
sharply after his property, and my crew 
are upon lays, like the people of all seal- 
ers. You ask too much; and you forget 
that, should assume the same power over 
my own craft, as you still claim in this 
wreck, you might never find the means of 
getting away from the group at all. We 
are not obliged to receive you on board our 
schooner.’’ 


“T know you think, Gar’ner, that it. 


will be impossible for us ever to get our 
craft off; but you overlook one thing that 
we may do—what is there to prevent our 
breaking her up, and of using the mate- 
rials to make a smaller vessel; one of sixty 
tons say—in which we might get home, 
besides taking most of our skins ? ” 

“I will not say that will be impossible ; 
but Ido say it will be very difficult. It 


would be wiser for you, in my judgment, — 
to leave your cargo in the house, under 


the keeping of a few hands if you see fit, 
and go off with me. I will land you at 
Rio, where you can almost always find 
Some small American craft to come south 


in and pick up your leavings. If you 


choose that the men left behind should 
amuse themselves in your absence by 
building a small craft, I am certain they 
will meet with no opposition from me. 
There is but one place where a vessel can 
be launched, and that’is the spot in the 
cove where we beached your schooner. 
There it might possibly be done, though I 
think not without a great deal of trouble, 
and possibly not without more means than 
are to be picked up along shore in this 
group. But there is a very important 
fact that you overlook, Daggett, which it 
may be as well to mention here as to delay 
it. Your craft, or mine, must be used as 


fuel this winter, or we shall freeze to 


death toaman. Ihave made the calcu-. 
lations closely ; and, certain as our exist- 


ence, there is no alternative between such — 


. 


will, it is full of difficulties. Will you 
agree to take in a half cargo of my skins 
and iles next season, and make in all re- | 
Spects a joint v’y’ge of it, from home, 


RR ee a ats ls wT 


Baath: and the use of the fuel I have 
Be estioned. oy 
a «‘ Not a timber of mine shall be touched. 
I do not believe one-half of these stories 
about the antarctic winter, which cannot 
be much worse than what a body meets 
with up in the Bay of Fundy.’’ 
_ * A winter in the Bay of Fundy with- 
out fuel must be bad enough; but it isa 
; mere circumstance to one here. I should 
think that a man who has tasted an ant- 
arctic summer and autumn must get a 
pretty lively notion of what is to come 
after them.”’ 
«The men can keep in their berths 
much of the time, and save wood. There 
are many other ways of getting through 
a winter than burning a vessel. I shall 
never consent to a stick of this good 
-eraft’s going into the galley-fire as long 
as I can see my way clear to prevent it. 

I would burn cargo before I would burn 

my craft.” 

Roswell wondered at this pertinacity ; 
but he trusted to the pressure of the 
coming season, and changed the subject. 
Certainly the thought of breaking up his 
own craft did not cross his mind ; though 
‘he could see no sufficient objection to the 
other side of the proposition. As discus- 
sion .was useless, however, he continued 
to converse with Daggett on various 
practical subjects, on which his com- 
‘panion was rational and disposed to 
miearn. \. , 

- Ithad been ascertained by experiment 
‘that the water, at a considerable depth, 
was essentially warmer beneath the ice 
than at its surface. A plan had been de- 
vised by which the lower currents of the 
“water could be pumped up for the pur- 
poses of the bath; thus rendering the 
process far more tolerable than it had 
‘previously been. Bathing in extremely 
cold weather, however, is not so formid- 
able a thing as is generally supposed, the 
air being at a lower temperature than the 
water. As the greatest importance was 
attached to these daily ablutions, the sub- 
y ject was gone over between the two mas- 
} ters in all its bearings. There were no 
conveniences for the operation at the 
wreck; and this was one reason why 


als 
et 
Sian? 

ce | ae, 


: AE 4 
- ine Sie 
a he 


\ a 


‘. eee rean. 4 


THE SHA LIONS. 


185 


Roswell suggested that a residence there . 
ought to be abandoned. Daggett dis- 
sented, and invited his companion to 
take a walk in his caverns. 

A promenade in a succession of caves 
formed of ice, with the thermometer at 
zero, would naturally strike one as a 
somewhat chilling amusement. Gardiner 
did not find it so. He was quite pro- 
tected from the wind, which gives so 
much pungency to bitter cold, rendering 
it insupportable. Completely protected — 
from this, and warmed by the exertion of 
clambering among the cakes, Roswell’s 
blood was soon ina healthful glow; and, 


‘to own the truth, when he left the wreck, 


it was with a much better opinion of it, 
as a place of residence, than when he had 
arrived to pay his visit. 

As there was now nothing for the men 
to do in the way of preparation, modes of 
amusement were devised that might unite 
activity of body with that of the mind. 
The snows ceased to fall as the season ad- 
vanced, and there were but few places on 
which heavy burdens might not have 
been transported over their crusts. It 
was, indeed, easier moving about on the 
surface of the frozen snow than it had 
been on the naked rocks; the latter offer- 
ing obstacles that no longer showed them- 
selves. Sliding down the declivities, and 
even skating, were practiced; few north- 
ern Americans being ignorant of the lat- 
ter art. Various other sources of amuse- 
ment were resorted to; but it was found, 
generally, that very little exercise in the 
open air exhausted the frame, and that 
a great difficulty of breathing occurred. 
Still, it was thought necessary to health 
that the men should remain as much as 
possible out of the crowded house; and 
various projects were adopted to keep up 
the vital warmth while exposed. Ere the 
month of July had passed, which corre- 
sponds to our January, it had been found 
expedient to make dresses of skins, for 
which fortunatély the materials abounded. 
' As the season advanced the idea of pre- 
serving more than the lives of his men 
was gradually abandoned by Gardiner, 
though Daggett still clung to his wreck, 
and actually had wood transported back 


186 


to it, that he might stay as much as pos- 
sible near his property. There was no 
longer any thawing, though there were 
very material gradations in the intensity 
of the frosts. Occasionally it was quite 
possible to remain in the open air an hour 
or two ata time; then again there were 
days in which it exceeded the powers of 
human endurance to remain more than a 
few minutes removed to any distance from 
heat artificially procured. On the whole, 
however, it was found that the compara- 
tively moderate weather predominated, 
and it was rare, indeed, that all the peo- 
ple did not pursue their avocations and 
amusements outside, at what was called: 
the middle of the day. 

And what a meridian it was! The 
shortest day had passed some time, when 
Roswell and Stimson were walking to- 
gether on the terrace, then, as usual, as 
clear from snow as if swept by a broom, 
but otherwise wearing the aspect of in- 
terminable winter, in common with all 
around it. They were conversing as had 
been much their wont of late, and were 
watching the passage of the sun as he 
stole along the northern horizon, even at 
high nooon rising but a very few degrees 
above it! 

“Tt has a cold look, sir, but it does give 
out some heat,’’ said Stephen, as he faced 
the luminary in one of his turns. ‘‘I can 
feel a little warmth from it just now, 
sheltered as we are here under the cliffs, 
and with a background of naked rock to 
throw back what reaches us. To me all 
these changes in the movements of the 
sun seem very strange, Captain Gar’ner ; 
but I know I am ignorant, and that others 
may well know all about what I do not 
understand.”’ 

Here Gardiner undertook to explain the 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


phenomena that have been slightly treated 
on in our own pages. There are few 
Americans so ignorant as not to be fully 
aware that the sun has no sensible mo- 
tion, or any motion that has an apparent 
influence on our own planet; but fewer 
still clearly comprehend the reasons of 
those very changes that are occurring 
constantly before their eyes. We cannot 
say that Captain Gardiner succeeded very 


well in his undertaking, though he im- 
printed on the old boat-steerer’s mind the 
fact that the sun would not be seen at all 
were they only a few degrees further south — 
than they actually were. 

‘“And now, sir, I suppose he’ll get high- 
er and higher every day,”’ put in Stephen, 

“until he comes quite up above our 
heads ? ”’ 

“Not exactly that at noon; 
abeam, as it might be, 
evenings.”’ 


‘Still the coldest of our weather is yet © 


to come, or I have no exper’ence in such 
things. 
back with the sun—or what seems to be 
the sun coming back ? though, as you tell 
me, Captain Gar’ner, it’s only the ’arth 
Sheering this-a-away and that-a-away in 
her course.”’ 

“One may well ask such a question— 
but cold produces cold, and it takes time 
to wear it out. February is commonly 
the coldest month in the year, even in 
America; though days occur in other 
months that may be colder than any one 
in February. March, and even April, are 
months I dread here; and that so much 
the more, Stephen, because our fuel goes 
a good deal faster than I could wish.” 

‘“ What you say is very true, sir. Stil the 
people must have fire. I turned out this 
morning, while all hands were still in their 
berths, and looked to the stove, and it 
was aS muchas human natur’ could bear 
to be about without my cap and skin-eov- 
ering, though indoors the whole time. If 
the weather goes onas it has begun, we 
Shall have to keep a watch at the stove: 
nor dol think one stove will answer us 
much longer. We _ shall want another in 
the sleeping-room.”’ 

‘“Heaven knows where the wood is to 
come from! Unless Captain Daggett 
gives up the wreck, we shall certainly be 
out long before the mild season returns.”? 

‘We must keep ourselves warm, sir, by 
reading the Bible,’? answered Stimson, 
smiling ; though the glance he cast at his 
officer was earnest and anxious. ‘* You 
must not forget, Captain Gar’ner, that 
you’ve promised one who is praying for 


you daily to go through the chapters she 3 


though — 
mornings and — 


Why does not the heat come — 


| 
| 


THE 


| ha marked, and give the matter a pa- 
tient and attentive thought. No sealin’, 
si ir, can be half so important as this read- 
_ ing of the good book in the right spirit.”’ 
~ So you believe that Jesus was the Son 
| of God!’’ exclaimed Roswell, half inquir- 
ingly, and half in a modified sort of levity. 

_ “Ag much as I believe that we are here, 
sir. I wishI was half as certain of ever 
getting away.”’ 

‘«“ What has caused you to believe this, 
‘Stimson ?—reason, or the talk of your 
_ mother and of the parson ?”’ 

4 ‘‘My mother died afore I could listen 
_ to her talk, sir; and very little have I 
had. to do with parsons, for the want of 
_ being where they are to be found. Faith 
tells me to believe this ; and Faith comes 
from God.”’ 

<‘ And I could believe it, too, were o Faith 
‘imparted to me from the same source. 
’ As it is, I fear I shall never believe in 
what appears to me to be an impossi- 
bility.” 

Then followed a long discussion, in 
_ which ingenuity, considerable command 
of language, human pride, and worldly 

sentiments, contended with that clear, 
intuitive, deep conviction which it is the 
pleasure of the Deity often to bestow on 
those who would otherwise seem to be 
—unfitted to become the respositories of so 
great a gift. As we shall have to deal 
with this part of our subject more par- 
ticularly hereafter, we shall not enlarge 
on it here; but pursue the narrative as 
it is connected with the advance of the 
season, and the influence the latter ex- 
- erted over the whole party of the lost 
_ sealers. 


CHAPTER XXV. 


4“ Beyond the Jewish ruler, banded close, 
A company full glorious, I saw 
The twelve Apostles stand. Oh, with what looks 
Of ravishment and joy, what rapturous tears, 
What hearts of ecstasy, they gazed again 
On their beloved Master.”’ 
—HILLHOUSE’S JUDGMENT. 


Iv has become necessary to-advance the 
season to the beginning of the month of 
~ October, which corresponds to our own 


St 


a 


SHA LIONS. 


187 
April. Ina temperate climate this would 
mark the opening of spring; and the re- 
viving hopes of a new and genial season 
would find a place in every bosom. Not so 
at Sealer’s Land. So long as the winter 
was its height, and the clear, steady cold 
continued, by falling into a system so pre- 
pared as to meet the wants of such a 
region, matters had gone on regularly, if 
not with comfort ; and, as yet, the personal 
disasters were confined to a few frozen 
cheeks and noses, the results of careless- 
ness and wanton exposure, rather than of 
absolute necessity. But one who had seen 
the place in July, and who examined it 
now, would find many marks of change, 
not to say of deterioration. 

In the first place, a vast deal of snow 
had fallen; fallen, indeed, to such a de- 
gree as even to cover the terrace, block 
up the path that communicated with the 
wreck, and nearly to smother the house and 
all around it. The winds were high and 
piercing, rendering the cold doubly pene- 
trating. The thermometer now varied 
essentially, sometimes rising considerably 
above zero, though oftener falling far be- 
low it. There had been many storms in 
September, and October was opening with 
a most blustering and wintry aspect. In 
one sense, however, the character of the 
season had changed : the dry, equal cold, 
that was generally supportable, having 
been succeeded by tempests that were 
sometimes a little moist, but oftener of 
intense frigidity. Of course the equinox 
was past, and there were more than 
twelve hours of sun. The great lumi- 
nary showed himself well above the north- 
ern horizon; and though the circuit de- 
scribed an arc that did not promise soon 
to bring him near the zenith at meridian, 
it was a circuit that seemed about to in- 
close Sealer’s Land, by carrying the orb 
of day so far south, morning and evening, 
as to give it an air of traveling round the 
spot. 

These changes had not occurred with- 
out suffering and danger. Hnormous 
icicles were suspended from the roof of the 
house, reaching to the ground, the third 
and fourth successions of these signs of 
heat and cold united, the earlier forma- 


188 WORKS 


tions having been knocked down and 
thrown away. Mountains of drifted snow 
were to be seen in places, all along the 
shore.; and wreaths that threatened fear- 
ful avalanches were suspended from the 
cliffs, waiting only for the increase of the 
warmth, to come down upon the rocks 
beneath. Once already had one of these 
masses fallen on the wreck; and the Oys- 
ter Pond men had been busy for a week 
digging into the pile, in order to go to the 
rescue of the Vineyarders. There was 
much generosity and charitable feeling 
displayed in this act; for, owing to the 
obstinate adherence of Daggett and his 
people to what they deemed their rights, 
Roswell had finally been compelled to cut 
to pieces the upper works of his own 
schooner to obtain fuel that might pre- 
vent his own party from freezing to death. 
The position of the Sea Lion of Oyster 
Pond was to be traced only by a high 
mound of snow, which had been arrested 
by the obstacie she presented to its drift ; 
but her bulwarks, planks, deck, top-tim- 
bers, stern-frame—in short, nearly all of 
the vessel above water, had actually been 
taken to pieces, and carried within the 
covering of the veranda mentioned, in 
readiness for the stoves ! 

To render the obstinacy of the other 
crew more apparent, Daggett had been 
obliged to do the same! Much of. his 
beloved craft had already disappeared in 
the caboose, and more was likely to fol- 
low. This compelled destruction, how- 
ever, rather increased than lessened his 
pertinacity. He clung to the last chip; 
and no terms of compromise would he 
now listen to at all. The stranded wreck 
was his, and his people’s; while the other 
wreck belonged to the men from Oyster 
Pond. Let each party act for itself, and 
take care of its own. Such were his ex- 
pressed opinions, and on them he acted. 

This state of things had not been 
brought about in a day. Months had 
passed ; Roswell had seen his last billet 
of wood put in the caboose; had tried 
various experiments for producing heat 
by means of oil, which so far succeeded 
as to enable the ordinary boiling to be 
done, thereby saving wood; but, when a 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


cold turn set in, it was quickly found that 
the schooner must go, or all hands perish, 
When. this decree went forth, every one 
understood that the final preservation of 
the party depended on that of the boats. 
For one entire day the question had been 
up in general council, whether or not the 
two whale-boats should be burnt, with 
their oars and appurtenances, before the 
attack was made on the schooner itself. 
Stimson settled this point, as he did so 
many others, Roswell listening to all he 
said with a constantly increasing atten- i 
tion. r 
“If we burn the boats first,’”? said the q 
boat-steerer, ‘‘and then have to come to 
the schooner a’ter all, how are we ever to | 
get away from this group? Them boats _ 
wouldn’t last us a week, even in our best j 
weather ; but they may answer to take _ 
us to some Christian land, when every rib — 
and splinter of the Sea Lion is turned — 
into ashes. I would begin on the upper — 
works of the schooner first, Captain Gar’- 4 
her, resarvin’ the spars, though they would _ | 
burn the freest. Then I would saw away — 
the top-timbers, beams, decks, transoms, 
and everything down within a foot of the — 
water; but I wouldn’t touch anything — 
below the copper, for this here reason: 
unless Captain Daggett sets to work on 
his craft and burns her up altogether, we — 
may find mater’als enough in the spring © 
to deck over ag’in the poor thing down 
there in the cove, and fit her out a’ter a P 
fashion, and make much better weather of _ 
it in her than in our boats. That’s my — 
opinion, sir.”’ | 

It was decided that this line of conduct 
Should be pursued. The upper works of 
the schooner were all taken out of her as _ 
soon as the weather permitted, and the — 
wood was carried up and stored in the — 
house. Even with this supply, it was _ 
soon seen that great economy was to be — 
used, and that there might be the neces- _ 
sity of getting at the vessel’s bottom. As — 
for the schooner, as the people still affec- 4 
tionately called the hull, or what was left — 
of the hull, everything had been taken out — 
of her. The frozen oil was carried up to 
the house in chunks, and used for fuel and 
lights. A good deal of heat was obtained 4 


' eu 


a7 ’ 
by making large wicks of canvas, and 
| placing them in vessels that contained 
| oil; though it was very far from sufficing 
_ to keep life in the men during the hardest 
of the weather. The utmost economy in 
_ the use of the fuel that had been so dearly 
_ obtained was still deemed all-essential to 
_ eventual preservation. Happily the sea- 
‘son advanced all this time, and the month 
_ of October was reached. The intercourse 
_ between the crews had by no means been 
sreat during the two solemn and critical 
months that were just passed. A few 
_ yisits had been exchanged at noon-day, 
and when the thermometer was a little 
_ above zero; but the snow was filling the 
_ path, and as yet.there were no thaws to 
_ produce a crust on which the men might 
walk. 

_ About a month previously to the pre- 


_ cise time to which it is our intention now | 


to advance the more regular action of the 
_ legend, Macy had come over to the house, 
attended by one man, with a proposal on 
_ the part of Daggett for the two crews to 
- occupy his craft, as he still persisted in 
calling the wreck, and of using the house 
as fuel. This was previously to beginning 
- to break up either vessel. Gardiner had 
‘thought of this plan in connection with 
his own schooner, a scheme that would 
have been much more feasible than that 
“now proposed, on account of the difference 
in distance; but it had soon been aban- 
doned. All the material of the building 
was of pine, and that well seasoned; a 
wood that burns like tinder. No doubt 
there would have been a tolerably com- 
fortable fortnight or three weeks by mak- 
‘ing these sacrifices ; then would have 
come certain destruction. 
As to the proposal of Daggett, there 
were many objections to it. A want of 
room would be one; want of provisions 
another ; and there would be the neces- 
sity of transporting stores, bedding, and 
a hundred things that were almost as 
“necessary to the people as warmth; and 
“which indeed contributed largely to their 
warmth. In addition was the objection 
just mentioned, of the insufficiency of the 
materials of the building; an objection 
which was just as applicable to a residence 


ae 
an ¥ 
+ Sha “- 


THE SHA LIONS. 


189 


in one vessel as a residence in the other. 
Of course the proposition was declined. 

Macy remained a night with the Oyster 
Ponders, and left the house after break- 
fast next morning ; knowing that Daggett 
only waited for his return with a negative 
to commence breaking up the wreck. The 
mate was attended by the seaman, return- 
ing as he had arrived. Two days later, 
there having been a slight yielding of the 
snow under the warmth of the noonday 
sun, and a consequent hardening of its 
crust in the succeeding night, Roswell 
and Stimson undertook to return this 
visit, with a view to make a last effort to | 
persuade Daggett to quit the wreck and 
come over to the house altogether. When 
they had got about half-way between the 
two places, they found the body of the sea- 
man, stiff, frozen, hard, and dead. A 
quarter of a mile further on, the reckless 
Macy, who it was supposed greatly sus- 
tained Daggett in his obstinacy, was 
found in precisely the same state. Both 
had fallen in the path, and stiffened under 
the terrible power of the climate. It was 
not without difficulty that Roswell reached 
the wreck, and reported what he had 
seen. Even this terrible admonition did 
not change Daggett’s purpose. He had 
begun to burn his vessel, for there was now 
no alternative; but he was doing it ona 
system which, as he explained it to Ros- 
well, was not only to leave him materials 
with which to construct a smaller craft 
in the spring, but which would allow of 
his inhabiting the steerage and cabin as 
long as he pleased. 

In some respects the wreck certainly 
had its advantages overthe house. There 
was more room for exercise, the caverns 
of the ice being extensive, while they com- 
pletely excluded the wind, which was now 
the great danger of the season. It was 
doubtless owing to the wind that Macy 
and his companion had perished. As the 
spring approached, these winds increased 
in violence ; though there had been slight 
symptoms of their coming more blandly, 
even at the time when their colder cur- 
rents were really frightful. 

A whole month succeeded this visit of 
Roswell’s, during which there was no in- 


190 


tercourse, 
of the antarctic circle, and the weather had 
been terrific during most of the period. 
_It was during these terrible four weeks 
that Roswell completed his examination of 
the all-important subject Mary had marked 
out for him, and which Stimson had so 
earnestly and so often placed before his 
mind. ‘The sudden fate of Macy and his 
companion, the condition of his crew, and 
all the serious circumstances with which 
he was surrounded, conspired to predis- 
pose him to inquiry; and what was equally 
important in such an investigation, to 
humility. Man is a very different being 
in high prosperity from what he becomes 
when the blows of an evil fortune, or the 
visitations of Divine Providence alight 
upon him. The scepticism of Roswell was 
more the result of human pride, or confi- 
dence in himself, than of any precept de- 
rived from others, or of any deep reason- 
ing process whatever. 

He conceived that the theory of the in- 
carnation of the Son of God was opposed 
to philosophy and experience, it is true ; 
and, thus far, he may be said to have 
reasoned in the matter, though it was in 
his own way, and with a very contracted 
view of the subject ; but pride had much 
more to do with even this conclusion than 
a knowledge of physics or philosophy. It 
did not comport with the respect he enter- 
tained for his own powers, to lend his faith 
to an account that conflicted with so many 
of the opinions he had formed on evidence 
and practice. Credulous women might 
have their convictions on the truth of 
this history, but it was not necessary for 
men to be as easily duped. There was 
something even amiable and attractive in 
this weakness of the other sex, that would 
ill comport, however, with the greater 
sternness of masculine judgment. Ros- 
well, as he once told Stimson, hesitated to 
believe in anything that he could not com- 
prehend. His God must be worshiped 
for the obvious truth of his attributes and 
existence. He wished to speak with re- 
spect of things that so many worthy 
people reverenced; but he could not for- 
get that Providence had made him a 
reasoning creature; and his reason must 


WORKS OF FENIMORE 


It was September, the March 


COOPER. 


be convinced. 


demonstration of any of his problems than 
this simple, nay ignorant, man enjoyed 
in his religious faith, through the divine 


illumination it had received in the visit of 


the Holy Spirit. 


That gloomy month, however, had not — 
been thrown away. All the men were 


disposed to be serious; and the reading of 


the Bible, openly and aloud, soon became > 


a favorite occupation with every one of 
them. Although Roswell’s reading was 
directed by the marks of Mary, all of 
which had reference to ‘those pages 
that touched on the divinity of the 
Saviour, he made no comments that be- 
trayed his incredulity. There is a simple 


earnestness in the narrative portions of 
the Gospel that commends its truth to — 


every mind, and it had its effect on that 
of Roswell Gardiner; though it failed to 
remove doubts that had so long been 
cherished, and which had their existence 
in pride of reason, or what passes for 
such, with those who merely skim the 
surface of things, as they seem to exist 
around them. 

On the evening of that particular day 
in October, to which we desire now to ad- 
vance the time, and after the most pleas- 
ant and cheerful afternoon and sunset 
that any on the island had seen for many 
months, Roswell and Stimson ventured 
to continue their exercise on the terrace, 
then again clear of impediments, even 
after the day had closed. The night 
promised to be cold, but the weather 
was. not yet so keen as to drive them to 
a shelter. Both fancied there was a 
feeling of spring in the wind, which was 
from the northeast, a quarter that 
brought the blandest currents of air into 
those seas, if any air of that region de- 
served such a term at all. 

‘It is high time we had some communi- 


cations with the Vineyarders,”’ said Ros- — 


well, as they turned at the-end of the 
terrace which was nearest to the wreck. 
‘* A full month has passed since we have 


seen any of them, or have heard a syllable’ 


of their doings or welfare.’’ 


Stephen was no great . 
logician, as the reader will easily under-— 
stand ; but Newton possessed no clearer 


— 


— 


eS le to. 


Te ag RPS, 


| 


 *Jt’s a bad business this separation, 
Captain Gar’ner,’’ returned the boat- 
steerer; ‘‘and every hour makes it worse. 
“Think how much good might have been 
done them young men had they only been 
with us while we’ve been reading the book 
| of books, night and morning, sir!”’ 
“That good book seems to fill most of 
your thoughts, Stephen; I wish I could 
have your faith.” 

“‘It will come in time, sir, if you will 
only strive for it. I’msure no heart could 
have been harder than mine was, until 
within the last five years. I was far worse 
as a Christian, Captain Gar’ner, than I 
consider you to be; for while you have 
doubts consarning the divinity of our 
Blessed Lord, I had no thought of any one 
of the Trinity. My only God was the 
world; and sich a world, too, as a poor 
sailor knows. It was being but little 
_ better than the brutes.”’ 

‘©Of all the men with me, you seem to 
be the most contented and happy. I can- 
not say I have seen even a sign of fear 
about you, when things have been at the 
- worst.”’ 

“It. would be very ungrateful, sir, to 
mistrust a Providence that has done so 
~ much for me.”’ 

“7 devoutly wish I could believe with 
' you that Jesus was the Son of God! ”’ 

_ Excuse me, Captain Gar’ner ; it’s jist 
because you do not devoutly wish this 
that you do not believe. I think I under- 
stand the natur’ of your feelin’s, sir. I 
had some sich once, myself; though it 
- was only in a small way. I was too 
ignorant to feel much pride in my own 
_ judgment, and soon gave up every notion 
- that went ag’in Scriptur’. I own it is not 
~ accordin’ to natur’, as we know natur’, to 
believe in this doctrine; but we know too 
little of a thousand things to set up our 
weak judgments in the very face of reve- 
- lation.’’ 

IT am quite willing to believe all I can 
- understand, Stephen; but I find it diffi- 
- cult to credit accounts that are irreconcil- 
able with all that my experience has 
_ taught me to be true.”’ 

They who are of your way of thinkin’, 
sir, do not deny that Christ was a good 


THE. SHA LIONS. 


191 


man and a prophet; and that the apostles 
were good men and prophets; and that 
they all worked miracles.’’ 

‘*This much I am willing enough to be- | 
lieve; but the other doctrine seems con- 
trary to what is possible.”’ 

“Yet you have seen, sir, that these 
apostles believed what you refuse. One 
thing has crossed my mind, Captain Gar’- 
ner, which I wish to say to you. I know 
I’m but an ignorant man, and my idees 
may be hardly worth your notice; but 


‘sich as they be, | want to lay ’em afore 


you. We are told that these apostles 
were all men from a humble class in life, 
with little l’arnin’, chosen, as it might be, 
to show men that faith stood in need of 
no riches, or edication, or worldly great- 
ness of any sort. To me, sir, there is a 
wholesome idee in that one thing.’ 

*« It gives us all a useful lesson, Stephen, 
and has often been mentioned, I believe, 
in connection with the doctrines of 
Christianity.” 

“Yes, sir—so I should think; though 
I don’t remember ever to have heard it 
named from any pulp. Well, Captain 
Gar’ner, it does not agree with our no- 
tions to suppose that God Himself, a 
part of the Ruler and Master of the 
Universe, should be born of a woman, 
and come among sinners in order to save 
’em from His own just judgments.” 

‘That is just the difficulty that I have 
in believing what are called the dogmas 
of Christianity on that one point. To 
me it has ever seemed the most improb- 
able thing in the world.’’ 

<«‘ Just so, sir—I had some sort of feel- 
in’ of that natur’ myself once. When 
God, in his goodness, put it into my heart 
to believe, however, as he was pleased to 
do in a fit of sickness from which | never 
expected to rise, and in which I was led 
to pray to Him for assistance, I began 
to think over all these matters in my 
own foolish manner. Among other things, 
I said to myself, ‘Is it likely that any 
mortal man would dream of calling Christ 
the Son of God, unless it was put into his 
mind to say so?’ Then comes the char- 
acters of them men, who all admit were 
upright and religious. How can we sup- 


192 WORKS 


pose that they would agree in giving the | to execute some duty that fell to his share, 


same account of sich a thing unless what 
they said had been told to them by some 
tongue that they believed ? ”’ 


Roswell smiled at Stephen’s reasoning, 


which was not without a certain point, 
but which an ingenious man might find 
the means of answering in various ways. 

‘There is another thing, sir, that I’ve 
read ina book,’’ resumed the boat-steerer, 
‘“which goes a great way with me. Jesus 
allowed others to call him the Son of God, 
without rebuking them for doing so. It 
does really seem that they who believe He 
was a good man, aS I understand is the 
case with you, Captain Gar’ner, must con- 
sider this a strong fact. We are to re- 
member what a sin idolatry is ; how much 
all raal worshipers abhor it ; and then set 
that feelin’ side by side with the fact that 
the Son did not think it robbery to be 
called the equal of the Father. To me 
that looks like a proof that our belief has 
a solid foundation.’’ 

Roswell did not reply. He was aware 
that it would not be just to hold any 
creed responsible for the manner in which 
a person like Stimson defended it. Still, 
he was struck with both of this man’s 
facts. The last he had often met in 
books ; but the first was new to him. Of 
the two, this novel idea of the improba- 
bility of the apostles inventing that which 
would seem to be opposed to all men’s 
notions and prejudices, struck him more 
forcibly than the argument adduced 
from the acquiescence of the Redeemer in 
His own divinity. The last might be sub- 
ject to verbal criticism, and could possibly 
be explained away, as he imagined ; but 
the first appeared to be intimately incor- 
porated with the entire history of Christ’s 
ministrations on earth. These were the 
declarations of John the Baptist, the sim- 
ple and unpretending histories of the Gos- 
pels, the commentaries of St. Paul, and 
the venerable teachings of the Church 
through so many centuries of varying de- 
grees of faith and contention, each and 
all going to corroborate a doctrine that, 
in his eyes, appeared to be so repugnant 
to philosophy and reason. Wishing to be 
alone, Roswell gave an order to Stimson 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


and continued walking up and down the 
terrace alone for quite an hour longer. 

The night was coming in cold and still. 
It was one of those last efforts of winter 
in which all the terrible force of the sea- 
son was concentrated; and it really ap- 
peared, as if Nature, wearied with its 
struggle to return to. a more genial 
temperature, yielded in despair, and was 
literally returning backward through 
the coldest of her months. The moon 
was young, but the stars gave forth a 
brightness that is rarely seen, except in 
the clear cold nights of a high latitude. 
Hach and all of these sublime emblems 
of the power of God were twinkling like 
bright torches glowing in space; and 
the mind had only to endow each with 
its probable or known dimensions, its con- 
jectural and reasonable uses, to form a 
picture of the truest sublimity in which 
man is made to occupy his real position. 
In this world, where, in a certain sense, 
he is master; where all things are ap- 
parently under his influence, if not abso- 
lutely subject to his control ; where little 
that is distinctly visible is to be met with 
that does not seem to be created to meet 
his wants, or to be wholly at his disposal, 
one gets a mistaken and frequently a fatal 
notion of his true place in the scale of the 
beings who are intended to throng around 
the footstool of the Almighty. As the 
animalcule of the atmospheric air bear a 
proportion to things visible, so would this 
throng seem to bear a: proportion to our 
vague estimates of the spiritual hosts. All 
this Roswell was very capable of feeling, 
and in some measure of appreciating ; and 
never before had he been made so conscious 
of his own insignificance, as he became 
while looking on the firmament that night, 
glowing with its bright worlds and suns, 
doubtless the centers of other systems in 
which distance swallowed up the lesser 
orbs. 

Almost every one has heard or pant of 
that collection of stars which goes by the 
name of the Southern Cross. The resem- 
blance to the tree on which Christ suf- 
fered is not particularly striking, though 
all who navigate the southern hemisphere 


appellation. 


reading, 


_ cal sense, the Son of God. 


the facts of our history. 


_ son had left him. 
We suppose that a sense of humility is 
the first healthful symptom that shows 
_ itself in every man’s moral regeneration. 


and character disposes him to receive 
revelation with respect, and to have faith 
in things that are not seen. Perhaps no 
one over whom the sword of fate was not 
actually suspened by a hair, was ever 
better placed to admit the lessons of 
humility than was Roswell Gardiner at 
that very moment. Modest he always 
was, in the ordinary acceptation of the 
term, and this without professions or 
grimaces; but he had a high idea of the 
human understanding, and revolted at 
believing that which did violence to all 
his experience and preconceived opinions. 
This was the weak spot in his character, 
which time, with an increasing knowledge 
of men and things, or some merciful 
teaching of Divine Providence, could alone 
remove. 
Roswell certainly did not converse with 

IV.—7 


THE SEA LIONS. 


know it, and recognize it by its imputed 
It now attracted Roswell’s 
| gaze; and coming as it did after so much 
3 so many conversations with 
Stephen, and addressing itself to one 
_ whose heart was softened by the fearful 
- circumstances that had so long environed 
_ the sealers, it is not surprising that it 
_ brought our young master to meditate 
seriously on his true condition in connec- 
_ tion with the atonement that he was will- 
_ ing to admit had been made for him, in 
_ common with all of earth, at the very mo- 
' ment he hesitated to ‘believe that the suf- 
_ ferer was, in any other than a metaphori- 


It is not our intention to describe more 
of the religious feelings of Mary and her 
Suitor, or to enter farther into any dis- 
quisition on subjects of this nature, than 
may be absolutely necessary to elucidate 
In order te do 
_ the last distinctly, however, we shall en- 

deavor to make a very brief analysis of 
_ the process of reasoning, and we may add 

of feeling too, that was at work in Ros- 
well Gardiner’s mind and heart, as he 
paced the terrace that night, after Stim- 


_A meek appreciation of his own station 


' 


193 


Stimson in the expectation of being much 
instructed; but the humble and unedu- 
cated boat-steerer had been at a school 
that raises the dullest intellect far above 
all the inferences of philosophy. He had 
faith, without which no man is truly wise; 
no man learned, in the highest interest of 
his being. Under the guidance of this 
leader, Stephen occasionally threw out an 
idea that struck the mind of his officer by 
its simplicity and force, and helped to 
complete that change for which circum- 
stances, reading and reflection had now 
been many months preparing the way. 
The day preceding this walk on the ter- 
race, Roswell observed to Stimson that 
he had difficulty in believing in a Deity he 
could not comprehend ; meaning’ merely 
that his reason must be satisfied in a doc- 
trine like that of the incarnation. 

“Well, sir, that’s not my feelin’,’’ an- 
swered Stephen, earnestly. “A Deity I 
could understand would be no God for 
me. Where there is the same knowledge, 
there is too much companionship like, for 
worship and reverence.”’ 

‘‘But we are told that man was created 
after the image of God.’’ 

‘<TIn his likeness, Captain Gar’ner—with 
some of the Divine Spirit, but not with all. 
That makes him different from the brutes, 
and immortal. I have convarsed with a 
clergyman who thinks that the angels, 
and archangels, and other heavenly be- 
ings, are far even before the saints in 
heaven, such as have been only men on 
,arth.’’ 

The idea of not having a Deity that he 
could not comprehend, had long been one 
of Roswell Gardiner’s favorite rules of 
faith. He did not understand by this pre- 
tending dogma, that he was, in any re- 
spect, of capacity equal to comprehend 
with that of the Divine Being, but simply 
that he was not to be expected or re- 
quired to believe in any theory which 
manifestly conflicted with his knowledge 
and experience, as both were controlled 
by the powers of induction he had derived 
directly from his Creator. In a word, his 
exception was one of the most obvious of 


the suggestions of the pride of reason, and 
just so much in direct opposition to the 


194 WORKS 


great law of regeneration, which has its 
very gist in the converse of his feeling— 
Faith. 

As our young master paced the terrace 
alone, that idea of the necessity of the 
Creator’s being incomprehensible to the 
created, recurred to him. The hour that 
succeeded was probably the most impor- 
tant in Roswell Gardiner’s life. So in- 
tense were his feelings, so active the 
workings of his mind, that he was quite 
insensible to the intensity of the cold ; and 
his body keeping equal in motion with his 
thoughts, if one may so express it, his 
frame actually set at defiance a temper- 
ature that might otherwise have chilled 
it, warmly and carefully as it was clad. 

Truly there were many causes existing 
at that time and place to bring any man 
to a just sense of his real position in the 
scale of created beings. The vault above 
Roswell was sparkling with orbs floating 
in space, most of them far more vast than 
this earth, and each of them doubtless 
having its present or destined use. What 
was that light, so brilliant and pervading 
throughout space, that converted each of 
those masses of dark matter into globes 
clothed with a glorious brightness? Ros- 
well had seen chemical experiments that 
produced wonderful illuminations; but 
faint, indeed, were the most glowing of 
those artificial torches, to the floods of 
light that came streaming out of the void, 
on missions of millions and millions of 
miles. Who, and what was the Dread 
Being—dread in his Majesty and Justice, 
but inexhaustible in Love and Mercy 
who used these exceeding means as mere 
instruments of his pleasure? and what 
was he himself, that he should presume 
to set up his miserable pride of reason, in 
opposition to a revelation supported by 
miracles that must be admitted to come 
through men inspired by the Deity, or re- 
jected altogether ? 

In this frame of mind Roswell was made 
to see that Christianity admitted of no 
half-way belief ; it was all true, or it was 
wholly false. 

And why should not Christ be the Son 
of God, as the Fathers of the Church had 
perseveringly, but so simply proclaimed, 


OF FENIMORE 


COOPER. 


and as that Church had continued to 
teach for eighteen centuries? Roswell 
believed himself to have been created in 
the image of God; and his much-prized ‘ 
reason told him that he could perpetuate — 
himself in successors ; and that which the 4 | 
Creator had given him the power to 
achieve, could he not in his own person — 
perform? For the first time, an inference — 
to the contrary seemed to be illogical. 

Then the necessity for the great expia- — 
tion occurred to his mind. This had al- 
ways been a stumbling-block to Roswell’s — 
faith. He could not see it; and that 
which he could not see he was indisposed — 
to believe. Here was the besetting weak- — 
ness of his character ; a weakness which ~ 
did not suffer him to perceive that could | 
he comprehend so profound a mystery he — 
would be raised far above that very — 
Nature in which he took so much pride. 
As he reflected on this branch of the sub- 
ject, a thousand mysteries, physical and 
moral, floated before his mind; and he 
became aware of the little probability 
that he should have been endowed with 
the faculties to comprehend this, the 
greatest of them all. Had not science 
gradually discovered the chemical pro- 
cesses by which gases could be concen- 
trated and disengaged, the formation of | 
one of those glittering orbs above his 
head would have been quite as unintelli- — 
gible a mystery to him, as the incarna- 
tion of the Saviour. The fact was, that — 
phenomena that were just as mysterious — 
to the human mind as any that the dog- 
mas of Christianity required to be be-— 
lieved, exist hourly before our eyes 
without awaking scepticism, or exeiting 
discussion ; finding their impunity in their : 
familiarity. Many of these phenomena — 
were strictly incomprehensible to human 
understandings, which could reason up 
to a fountain-head in each case; and 
there it was obliged to abandon the in-— 
ductive process, purely for the want of 
power to grapple with the premises which 
control the whole demonstration. 

Could Mary Pratt have known what 
was going on in Roswell Gardiner’s soul 
that night, her happiness would have been 
as boundless as her gratitude to God. She 


I a ee ee 


——————— en 


a _ fit themselves for the presence of God. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 


“Let winter come ! let polar spirits sweep 
The darkening world, and tempest-troubled deep !”? 
oe —CAMPBELL. 


So | , 


warming with the new- born faith, of which 
_ the germ was just opening in his heart, 
_ Stimson came out upon the terrace to see 
what had become of his officer. It was 
_ much past the hour when the men got be- 
_ neath the coverings of their mattresses ; 
_ and the honest boat-steerer, who had per- 
_ formed the duty on which he had. been 
_ sent, was anxious about Roswell’s remain- 
_ ing so long in the open air, on this posi- 
tively the severest night of the whole 
_ season. 
“You stand the cold well, Captain Gar- 
ner,’’ said Stephen, as he joined his officer ; 
“but it might be prudent, now, to get 
under cover.”’ 
“TI do not feel it cold, Stephen,”’ re- 
turned Roswell—“ on the contrary, I’m in 
a pleasant glow. My mind has been busy 
while my frame has kept in motion. 
_ When such are the facts, the body seldom 
_ suffers. But, hearken—does it not seem 
_ that some one is calling to us from the 
_ direction of the wreck ? ’’ 
The great distance to which sounds are 
_ conveyed in intensely cold and clear 
_ weather is a fact known to most persons. 
Conversations in the ordinary tone had 
been heard by the sealers when the 
speakers were nearly a mile off; and, on 
: several occasions, attempts had been 
‘made to hold communications, by means 
of the voice, between the wreck and the 
but. Certain words had been understood ; 
_but it was found impossible to hold any- 
thing that could be termed conversation. 
‘Still, the voice had been often heard, and 
a fancy had come over the mind of Ros- 
a 


“a 
dia 


BY fee: 
a). eo 


THE SHA LIONS. 


would have seen the barrier that had so 
long interposed itself to her wishes broken 
| down ; not by any rude hand, but by the 
influence of those whisperings of the Di- 
vine Spirit, which open the way to men to 


WHILE the bosom of Roswell was thus 


195 


well that he heard a cry like a call for 
assistance, just as Stimson joined him. 

“It is so late, sir, that I should hardly » 
think any of the Vineyarders would be 
up,’’ observed the boat-steerer, after list- 
ening some little time in the desire to 
catch the sound mentioned. <‘‘ Then it is 
so cold, that most men would like to get 
beneath their blankets as soon as they 
could.’’ 

“‘T do not find it so very cold, Stephen. 
Have you looked at the thermometer 
lately ? ”’ 

““T gave it a look in coming out, sir; 
and it tells a terrible story to-night ! The 
mercury is all down in the ball, which is 
like givin’ the matter up, I do suppose, 
Captain Gar’ner.”’ 

“°Tis strange! I do not feel it so very 
cold! The wind seems to be getting 
round to the northeast too; give us 
enough of that, and we shall have a thaw. 
Hark ! there is the ery again.” 

This time there could be no mistake. A 
human voice had certainly been raised 
amid the stillness of that almost polar 
night, clearly appealing to human ears, 
for succor. The only word heard or com- 
prehended was that of “help; ’’ one well 
enough adapted to carry the sound far 
and distinctly. There was a strain of 
agony in the cry, as if he who made it 
uttered it in despair. Roswell’s blood 
seemed to flow back to his heart; never 
had he before felt so appalling a sense of 
the dependence of man on a Divine Provi- 
dence, as at that moment. 

“You heard it?’ he said, inquiringly, 
to Stephen, after an instant of silent at- 
tention, to make sure that no more was to 
reach his ears just then. 

‘‘Sartain, sir—no man could mistake 
that. It was the voice of the nigger, Joe; 
him that Captain Daggett has for a cook.” 

‘*Think you so, Stephen? The fellow 
has good lungs, and they may have set 
him to call upon us in. their distress. 
What can be the nature of the assistance 
they ask ?”’ 

““T’ve been thinking of that, Captain 
Gar’ner; and a difficult p’int it is to an- 
swer. Food they must have still; and 
was they in want of their rations, hands 


196 WORKS 


would have been sent across to get ’em. 
They may:have let their fire go out, and 
be without the means to relight it. I can 
think of nothing else that is likely to hap- 
pen to men so sarcumstanced.’’ 

The last suggestion struck Roswell as 
possible. From the instant he felt certain 
that he was called on for aid, he had deter- 
mined to proceed to the wreck, notwith- 
standing the lateness of the hour, and the 
intense severity of the weather. Ashe 
had intimated to Stephen, he was not at 
all conscious how very cold it was; exer- 
cise and the active workings of his mind 
having brought him to an excellent con- 
dition to resist the sternness of the season. 
The appeal had been so sudden and unex- 
pected, however, that he was at first 
somewhat at aloss how to proceed. The 
matter was now discussed between him 
and Stimson, when the following plan was 
adopted : 

The mates were to be called and made 
acquainted with what had occurred, and 
put on their guard as to what might pos- 
sibly be required of, them. It was not 
thought necessary to call any of the rest 
of the men. There was always one hand 
on the watch in the house, whose duty it 
was to look to the fires, for the double 
purpose of security against a confiagra- 
tion, and to prevent the warmth within 
from sinking too near to the cold without. 
It had often occurred to Roswell’s mind 
that a conflagration would prove quick 
destruction to his party. In the first 
place, most of the provisions would be 
lost; and it was certain that, without a 
covering and the means of keeping warm 
within it, the men could not resist the 
climate eight-and-forty hours. The burn- 
ing of the hut would be certain death. 

Roswell took no one with him but Stim- 
son. Two were as good asa hundred, if 
all that was asked were merely the means 
to relight the fire. These means were 
provided, and a loaded pistol was taken 
also, to enable a signal-shot to be fired, 


should circumstances seem to require: 


further aid. One or two modes of com- 
municating leading facts were concerted, 
when our hero and his companion set 
forth on their momentous journey. 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


Taking the hour, the weather, and the 
object before him into the account, Roswell 
Gardiner felt that he was now enlisted in 
the most important undertaking of his 
whole life, as he and Stephen shook hands 
with the two mates, and left the point. 
The drifts rendered a somewhat circuitous 
path necessary at first; but the moon and 
stars shed so much of their radiance on 
the frozen covering of the earth that the 
night was quite as light as many a London 
day. Excitement and motion kept the 
blood of our two adventurers in a brisk 
circulation, and prevented their becoming 
immediately conscious of the chill intensity 
of the cold to which they were exposed. 

“It is good to think of Almighty God, 
and of his many marcies,’’ said Stephen, 
when a short distance from the house, 


‘‘as a body goes forth on an expedition as ~ 


serious as this. We may not live to reach 
the wrack, for it seems to me to iL ti 
colder and colder !”’ 


‘“‘T— wonder we hear no more of the ~ 


cries,”’ 
ing of the distress he was bent on reliev- 
ing. 


remarked Roswell, who was think- _ 


“One would think that a man who - | 


could call so stoutly would give us another — 


ony 

«<A body can never calculate on a nig- 
ger,’’? answered Stephen, who had the 
popular American prejudice against the 


caste that had so long been held in servi- — 


tude in the land. ‘‘ They call out easily, 


and shut up uncommon quick, if there’s — 


nothin’ gained by yelling. Black blood 
won’t stand cold like white blood, Captain 
Gar’ner, any more than white blood will 
stand heat like black blood.”’ 

“T have heard this before, Stephen ; 


and it has surprised me that Captain — 


Daggett’s cook should be the only one of 
that party who seems to have had any 
voice to-night.”’ 


Stimson had a good deal to say now as | 
the two picked their way across the field — 
always walking on the crust, 
which in most places would have upheld — 


of snow, 


a loaded vehicle; the subject of his re- 


marks being the difference between the 


two races as respects their ability to en- 
dure hardships. 


The worthy boat-steerer — 
| had several tales to relate of cases in 


. beh Bae « 
int ata 
- oe > 
a A . 


THE 


SHA LIONS. 


197 


4 a which he had known negroes freeze when | easy to make any physical effort in an in- 


whites have escaped. As the fact is one tensely cold atmospliere, as he does when 


pretty well established, Roswell listened 
complacently enough, being much _ too 
earnest in pressing forward toward his 
object to debate any of his companion’s 
theories just then. It was while thus em- 
ployed that Roswell fancied he heard one 
more cry resembling those. which had 
brought him on this dangerous undertak- 
ing on a night so fearful. This time, 


_ however, the cry was quite faint; and 


what was not so easily explained, it did 
not appear to come from the precise direc- 
tion in which the wreck was known to lie, 
but from one that diverged considerably 
from that particular quarter. Of course, 
the officer mentioned this circumstance to 
the boat-steerer; and the extraordinary 
part of the information caused some par- 
ticular discussion between them. 

“To me that last call seemed to come 
from up yonder nearer to the cliffs than 
the place where we are, and not at all 
from down there, near to the sea, where 
the wrack is,’’ said Stimson, in the course 
of hisremarks. ‘‘Sosartain am I of this, 
that I feel anxious to change our course a 
little, to see if it be not possible that one 
of the Vineyarders has got into some diffi- 
culty in trying to come across to us.”’ 

Roswell had the same desire, for he had 


_ made the same conjecture ; though he did 


not believe the black would be the person 
chosen to be the messenger on such an 
occasion. 

“J think Captain Daggett would have 
come himself or have sent one of his best 


_ men,” he observed, ‘in preference to 


trusting a negro with a duty so impor- 


tant.” 


“We do not know, sir, that it was the 
nigger we heard. Misery makes much 
the same cries, whether it comes from the 
throat of white or black. Let us work 


_ upward, nearer to the cliffs, sir; I see 


something dark on the snow, hereaway, 
as it might be on our larboard bow.”’ 
Roswell caught a glimpse of the same 


object, and thither our adventurers now 


bent their steps, walking on the crust with- 
out any difficulty, so long as they kept 


the weather is more moderate. This pre- 
vented Roswell and his companion from 
moving as fast as they otherwise might 
have done; but they got along with suffi- 
cient rapidity to reach the dark spot on 
the snow in less than five minutes after 
they had changed their course. 

“You are right, Stephen,”’ said Gar- 
diner, as he came up to this speck, amid 
the immensity of the white mantle that 
covered both sea and land, far as the eye 
could reach; ‘itis the cook! The poor 
fellow has given out here, about half way 
between the two stations.”’ 

‘“There must be life in him yet, sir— 
nigger as he is. It’s not yet twenty min- 
utes since he gave that last cry. Help 
me to turn him over, Captain Gar’ner, 


|and we will rub him, and give him a 


swallow of brandy. <A little hot coffee, 
now, might bring the life back to his 
heart.”’ 

Roswell complied, first firing his pistol 
as a Signal to those left behind. The 
negro was not dead, but so near it that a 
very few more minutes would have sealed 
his fate. The applications and frictions 
used by Gardiner and the boat-steerer 
had an effect. A swallow of the brandy 
probably saved the poor fellow’s life. 
While working on his patient, Captain 
Gardiner found a piece of frozen pork, 
which, on examination, he ascertained 
had never been cooked. It at once ex- 
plained the nature of the calamity that 
had befallen the crew of the wreck. 

So intent were the two on their benevo- 
lent duty that a party arrived from the 
house, in obedience to the signal, in much 
less time than they could have hoped for. 
It was led by the mate, and came provided 
with a lamp burning beneath a tin vessel 
filled with sweetened coffee. This hot 
drink answered an excellent purpose with 
both well and sick. After a swallow or 
two, aided by a vigorous friction, .and 
closely surrounded by so many human 
bodies, the black began to revive; and the 
sort of drowsy stupor which is known to 
precede death in those who die by freezing 


aq out of the drifts. One does not find it so having been in a degree shaken off, he was 


198 WORKS 


enabled to stand alone, and by means of 
assistance to walk. ‘The hot coffee was of 
the greatest service, every swallow that 
he got down appearing to set the engine 
of life into new motion. The compelled ex- 
ercise contributed its part; and by the 
time the mate, to use his own expression, 
*‘had run ‘the nigger into dock,’’? which 
meant when he had got him safe within 
the hut, his senses and faculties had so far 
revived as to enable him to think and to 
speak. As Gardiner and Stimson re- 
turned with him, everybody was up and 
listening, when the black told his story. 

It would seem that during the terrible 
month which had just passed, Daggett had 
compelled his crew to use more exercise 
than had been their practice of iate. Some 
new apprehension had come over him on 
the subject of fuel, and his orders to be 
saving in that article were most stringent, 
and very rigidly enforced. The conse- 
quence was that the caboose was not as 
well attended to as it had been previously, 
and as circumstances required, indeed, 
that it should be. At night the men were 
told to keep themselves warm with bed- 
clothes, and by huddling together; and 
the cabin being small, so many persons 
crowded together in it did not fail to pro- 
duce an impression on its atmosphere. 

Such was the state of things, when, on 
going to his caboose, in order to cook the 
breakfast, this very black found the fire 
totally extinguished! Nota spark could 
he discover, even among the ashes; and, 
what was even worse, the tinder-box had 
disappeared. As respects the last, it 
may be well to state here, that it was 
afterward discovered carefully bestowed 
between two of the timbers of the wreck, 
with a view to particular safe keeping ; 
the person who had made this disposition 
of it forgetting what he had done. The 
loss of the tinder-box, under the circum- 
stances, was almost as great a calamity 
as could have befallen men in the situa- 
tion of the Vineyarders. As against the 
cold, by means of bedclothes, exercise and 
other precautions, it might have been possi- 
ble to exist for some time, provided warm 
food could be obtained ; but the frost pen- 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


ness, not to say danger, of their condi- 
tion. A whole day was passed in fruitless 
attempts to obtain fire by various pro- 
cesses. Friction did not succeed ; it prob- 
ably never does with the thermometer at 
zero. Sparks could be obtained, but by 
this time every thing was stiff with the 
frost. The food already cooked was soon 
as hard as bullets, and it was found that 
on the second night brandy that was ex- 
posed was converted into a lump of ice. 
Not only did the intensity of the cold 
increase, but everything, even to the 
human system, seemed to be gradually 
congealing and preparing to become con- 


verted into receptacles for frost. Several. 


of the men began to suffer in their ears, 
noses, feet, and other extremities, and the 
bunks were soon the only places in which 
it was found possible to exist in anything 
like comfort. 
been sent, at intervals of a few hours, 
across to the house, with a view to ob- 


tain fire, or the means of Tighting one, » 


along with other articles that were con- 
sidered necessary to the safety of the 
people. The cook had been the third and 
last of these messengers. He had passed 
his two shipmates, each lying dead on 
the snow—or, as he supposed, lifeless; for 
neither gave the smallest sign of vitality, 
on an examination. It was in the agony 
of alarm produced by these appalling 
spectacles, that the negro had cried aloud 
for help, sending the sounds far enough 
to reach the ears of Roswell. Still he had 
persevered ; until chilled, as much with 
terror as with the cold and the want of 
warm nourishment, the cook had sunk 
into what would have soon proved to be 
his last long sleep, when the timely suc- 
cor arrived. 

It was some two hours after the black 
had been got into the hut, and was 
strengthened with a good hot supper, 


ere he had communicated all the facts 
just related. Roswell succeeded, how- — 


ever, in getting a little at a time from 


him; and when no more remained to be — 


related, the plan was already arranged 
for future proceedings. 


became sensitively alive to the awkward- 


Noless than three men had — 


It was quite ‘ 
etrated the cabin, and every one soon'clear no unnecessary delay should be — 


| 
: 
5 


permitted to take place. The cold con- 
_ tinued to increase in intensity, notwith- 
standing it was the opinion of the most 
experienced among the men that a thaw, 
and a great spring thaw, was approach- 
ing. It often happens, in climates of an 
exaggerated character, that these ex- 
tremes almost touch each other, as they 
are said to meet in man. 

Roswell left the house for the second 
time that eventful night, just at the hour 
of twelve. He now went accompanied 
by the second mate and a foremast- 
hand, as well as by his old companion, 
the boat-steerer. Each individual drank 
a bowl of hot coffee before he set out, 
and a good warm supper had also been 
taken in the interval between the return 
and this new sortie. Experience shows 
that there is no such protector against 
the effect of cold as a full stomach, more 
_ especially if the food be warm and nourish- 
ing. This was understood by Roswell ; 
and not only did he cause the whole party 
that set forth with him at that late and 
- menacing hour to receive this suste- 
nance, but he ordered the kettle of boiling 
coffee to be carried with them, and kept 
two lamps burning for the double purpose 
of maintaining the heat, and of having 
a fire ready on reaching the wreck. The 
oil of the sea-elephant, together with 
pieces of canvas prepared for the pur- 
pose, supplied the necessary materials. 

So intensely severe was the weather 
that Roswell had serious thoughts of re- 
turning when he reached the spot where 
_ the black had been found. But the picture 
_ of Daggett’s situation that occurred to his 
- mind, urged him on, and he proceeded. 
Every precaution had been taken to ex- 
clude the-cold, as it is usually termed, 
which, as it respects the body, means lit- 
_ tle less than keeping the vital heat in, and 
very useful were these provisions found 
_ to be. Skins formed the principal defense, 
_ though the men had long adopted the very 
_ simple but excellent expedient of wearing 
two shirts. Owing to this, and to the 
_ other measures taken, neither of the four 
_ was struck with a chill, and they all con- 
tinued on. 

At the place mentioned by the black, 


THE SHA LIONS. 


199 


the body of one of Daggett’s best men, a 
boat-steerer was found. The man was 
dead, of course, and the corpse was as 
rigid as a billet of wood. Every particle 
of moisture in it had congealed, until the 
whole of what had been a very fine and 
manly frame lay little more than a sense- 
less lump of ice. A few degrees to the 
southward of the spot where it was now 
seen, it is probable that this relic of hu- 
manity would have retained its form and 
impression, until the trump sounded to 
summon it to meet its former tenant, the 
Spirit, in judgment. 

No time was lost in useless lamentations 
over the body of this man, who was much 
of a favorite among the Oyster Ponders. 
Twenty minutes later the second corpse 
was found ; both the bodies lying in what 
was the customary track between the 
house and the wreck. It was the last that 
had died; but, like that of the unfortunate 
man just described, it was in a state to be 
preserved ten thousand years without the 
occurrence of a thaw. Merely glancing 
at the rigid features of the face, in order 
to identify the person, Roswell passed on, 
the chill feelings of every individual of his 
party now admonishing them all of the 
necessity of getting as soon as possible to 
some place where they could feel the influ- 
ence of a fire. In ten minutes more, the 
whole were in the caverns of the ice, and 
presently, the cabin of the wreck was 
entered. Without turning to the right 
hand or to the left, without looking for 
one of the inmates of the place, every man 
among the new-comers turned his atten- 
tion instantly to getting the fire lighted. 
The caboose had been filled with wood, 
and it was evident that many efforts had 
been made to produce a blaze, by those 
who had put it there. Splinters of pine 
had been inserted among the oak of the 
vessel, and nothing was wanting but the 
means of kindling. These, most fortu- 
nately for themselves, the party of Roswell 
had, and eagerly did they now have re- 
course to their use. 

There was not a man among the Oyster 
Ponders who did not, just at that mo- 
ment, feel his whole being concentrated in 
that one desire to obtain warmth. The 


200 


cold had slowly, but surely, insinuated 
itself among their garments, and slight 
chills were now felt even by Roswell, whose 
frame had been most wonderfully sus- 
tained that night, through the force of 
moralfeeling. Stimson was the individual 
who was put forward at the caboose, 
others holding the lamps, canvas satu- 
rated with oil, and some prepared paper. 
It was found to be perceptibly warmer 
within the cabin, with its doors closed, and 
the external coverings of sails, etc., that 
had been made to exclude the air, than 
without ; nevertheless, when Roswell 
glanced at a thermometer that was hang- 
ing against the bulk-head, he saw that all 
the mercury was still in the ball ! 

The interest with which our party now 
watched the proceedings of Stephen had 
much of that intensity that is known to 
attend any exhibition of vital importance. 
Life and death were, however, to be de- 
pendent on the issue; and the manner in 
which every eye was turned on the wood, 
and Stephen’s mode of dealing with it, de- 
noted how completely the dread of freez- 
ing had got possession of the minds of 
even these robust and generous men. 
Roswell alone ventured, for a single mo- 
ment, to look around the cabin. Three of 
the Vineyarders only were visible in it; 
though it struck him that others lay in 
the berths, under piles of clothes. Of the 
three who were up, one was so near the 
lamp he held in his hand, that its light 
illumined his face, and all that could be 
seen of a form enveloped in skins. This 
man sat leaning against a transom. His 
eyes were open, and glared on the party 
around the caboose; the lips were slightly 
parted, and, at first, Roswell expected to 
hear him speak. The immovable features, 
rigid muscles, and wild expression of the 
eyeballs, however, soon told him the mel- 
ancholy truth. The man was dead. The 
current of life had actually frozen at his 
heart. Shuddering, as much with horror 
as with asharp chill that just then passed 
through his own stout frame, our young 
master turned anxiously to notes the suc- 
cess of Stimson, in getting the wood of 
the caboose in a blaze. 

Every one, in the least accustomed to a 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


very severe climate, must have had fre- 
quent occasions to observe the reluctance 
with which all sorts of fuel burn, in ex- 
ceedingly cold weather. The billet of 
wood that shall blaze merrily, on a mild 
day, molders and simmers, and seems in- 
disposed to give out any heat at all, with 
the thermometer at zero. In a word, all 
inanimate substances that contain the 
elements of caloric appear to sympathize 
with the prevailing state of the atmos- 
phere, and to contribute to render that 
which is already too cold for comfort, even 
colder. So it was now, notwithstanding 
the preparations that had been made. 
Baffled twice in his expectations of pro- 
curing a blaze, Stephen stopped and took 
a drink of the hot coffee. As he swallowed 
the beverage, it struck him that it was 
fast losing its warmth. . 
A considerable coliection of canvas, 


saturated with oil, was now put beneath | 


the pile, in the midst of splinters of pine, 
and one of the lamps was forced into the 
center of the combustibles. This expedi- 
ent succeeded; the frosts were slowly 
chased out of the kindling materials; a 
sickly but gradually increasing flame 
strove through the kindling stuff and 
soon began to play among the billets of 
the oak, the only fuel that could be relied 
on for available heat. - Still there was 
great danger that the lighter wood would 
all be consumed ere this main dependence 
could be aroused from its dull inactivity. 
Frost appeared to be in possession of the 
whole pile; and it was expelled so slowly, 
clung to its dominion with so much power, 
as really to render the result doubtful, for 
amomentortwo. Fortunately, there was 
found a pair of bellows; and by means of 
a judicious use of this very useful imple- 
ment, the oak wood was got into a bright 
blaze, and warmth began to be given out 
from the fire. 
and chills, with which intense cold con- 
sents even to abandon the human frame ; 
and, by their number and force, Roswell 
was made to understand how near he and 
his companions had been to death. 

As the young man saw the fire slowly 
kindle to a cheerful blaze, a glow of grati- 
tude flowed toward his heart, and mental- 


Then came the shiverings — 


. 
a 


es 
ae) » 
x : 


SS. Fl a ot 


of that coffee ! 


THH SHA LIONS. 


ie ly he returned thanks to God. The cabin 


was so small, had been made so tight by 
artificial means, and the caboose was so 
large, that a sensible influence was pro- 
duced on the temperature, as soon as the 
wood began to burn a little freely. As 
none of the heat was lost, the effect was 


not only apparent, but most grateful. 


Roswell had looked into the vessels of the 
caboose, while the fire was gathering 
head. One, the largest, was filled, or 
nearly so, with coffee frozen to a solid 
mass! In the other, beef and pork had 
been set over to boil, and there the pieces 
now were, embedded in ice, and frozen to 
blocks. It was when these two distinct 
masses of ice began to melt, that it was 
known the fire was beginning to prevail, 
and hope revived in the bosoms of the 
Oyster Ponders. On taking another look 
at the thermometer, it was found that the 
mercury had so far expanded as to be 
leaving the ball. It soon after ascended 
so high as to denote only forty degrees 
below zero. 

Kverything, even to life, depending on 
maintaining and increasing the power of 
the fire, the men now looked about them 
for more fuel. There was an ample stock 
in the cabin, however, the fire having be- 
come extinguished, not for want of wood, 
but in the usual way. It were needless to 
describe the manner in which those who 
stood around the stove watched the 


flames, or how profound was their satis- 


faction when they saw that Stimson had 
finally succeeded. 

** God be praised for this and for all his 
marcies!’’ exclaimed Stephen, laying 
aside the bellows at last. <‘‘I can feel 


warmth from the fire, and that will save 
such of us as have not been taken away.’ 
He then lifted the lids, and looked into 


the different vessels that were on. The 
ice was melting fast, and the steams of 
coffee became apparent to the senses. It 


was at this instant that a feeble voice 


was heard issuing from beneath the cover- 
ings of a biog 

“Garner,” it said, imploringly, “if you 
have any feelin’ for a fellow-creatur’ in 
distress, warm me up with one swallow 


Oh! how pleasantly it 


201 


smells, and how good it must be for the 
stomach! For three Baye have I tasted 
nothing—not even water.’ 

This was Daggett, the long-tried sealer ; 
the man of iron nerves and golden long- 
ings: he who had so lately concentrated 
within himself all that was necessary to 
form a pertinacious, resolute, and grasping 
seekerafter gain. How changed, now, in 
all this! He asked for the means of pre- 
serving life, and thought no more of skins, 
and oils, and treasures on desert keys. 

Roswell was no sooner apprised of the 
situation of his brother-master, than he 
bestowed the necessary care on hie wants. 
Fortunately, the coffee brought by the 
Oyster Ponders, and which retained some 
of its original warmth, had been set. be- 
fore the fire, and was now as hot as the 
human stomach could bear it. Two or 
three swallows of this grateful fluid were 
given to Daggett, and his voice almost 
instantaneously showed the effect they 
produced. 

‘‘T’m in a bad way, Gar’ner,’’ resumed 
the Vineyard-master. ‘I fear we’re all 
in a bad way, that are here. I held out 
ag’in the cold as long as human natur’ 
could bear it, but was forced to give in at 
last.”’ 

‘“ How many of your people still remain, 
Daggett? tell us that we may look for 
them, and attend to their wants.’’ 

“Tm afraid, Gar’ner, they’ll never 
want anything more in this life! The 
second mate and two of the hands were 
sitting in the cabin when I got into this 
berth, and I fear ’twill be found that 
they’re dead. I urged them to turn in, 
too, as the berths were the only place 
where anything like warmth was to be 
found ; but drowsiness had come on ’em, 
and, when that is the case, freezin’ soon 
follows.’’ 

“The three men in the cabin are past 
our assistance, being actually frozen into 
logs ; but there must be several more of 
you. Isee the signs of two others in the 
berths—ah ! what do you say to that 
poor fellow, Stephen ? ”’ 

‘The spirit is still in the body, sir, 
but about to depart. If we can get 
him to swallow a little of the coffee, the 


202 


angel of death may yet loosen his hold on 
him.’’ 

The coffee was got down this man’s 
throat, and he instantly revived. Hewas 
a young man named Lee, and was one of 
the finest physical specimens of strength 
and youth in the whole crew. On exam- 
ining his limbs, none were found absolute- 
ly frozen, though the circulation of the 
blood was so near being checked that 
another hour of the great cold which had 
reigned in the cabin, and which was 
slowly increasing in intensity, must have 
destroyed him. On applying a similar 
process to Daggett, Roswell was startled 
at the discovery he made. The feet, legs, 
and forearms of the unfortunate Vine- 
yarder were all as stiff and rigid as icicles. 
In these particulars there could be no 
mistake, and the men were immediately 
sent for snow, in order to extract the frost 
by the only safe process known to the 
sealers. The dead bodies were carried 
from the cabin, and laid decently on the 
ice, outside, the increasing warmth within 
rendering the removal advisable. On 
glancing again at the thermometer, now 
suspended in a remote part of the cabin, 
the mercury was found risen to two above 
zero. This was a very tolerable degree 
of cold, and the men began to lay aside 
some of their extra defenses against the 
weather, which would otherwise be of no 
service to them when exposed outside. 

The crew of the Vineyard Lion had 
consisted of fifteen souls, one less than 
that of her consort. Of these men, four 
had lost their lives between the wreck and 
the house; two on a former, and two on 
the present occasion. Three bodies were 
found sitting in the cabin, and two more 
were taken out of the berths, dead: The 
captain, the cook, and Lee, added to these, 
made a dozen, leaving but three of the 
crew to be accounted for. When ques- 
tioned on the subject, Lee said that one 
of those three had frozen to death in 
the caverns several days before and the 
other two had set out for the hut in the 
last snow-storm, unable to endure the 
cold at the wreck any longer. As these 
two men had not arrived at the house 
when Gardiner and his companions left it, 


7 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


they had perished, out of alldoubt. Thus, 
of the fifteen human beings who had sailed 


together from Martha’s Vineyard, ready © 


to encounter every hazard in order to 
secure wealth, or what in their estimation 
was wealth, but three remained ; and of 
these, two might be considered in a criti- 
cal condition. Lee was the only man of 
the entire crew who was sound and fit for 
service. 


———— 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 


“Bid him bow down to that which is above him,— 
The overruling Infinite,—the Maker,— 
Who made him not for worship,—let him kneel, 
And we will kneel together.’”’—BYRON. 


WHEN the bodies had been removed 
from the cabin, and the limbs of Daggett 
were covered with snow, Roswell Gardi- 
ner took another look at the thermometer. 
It had risen already to twenty degrees 
above zero. 
compared with the temperature from 
which the men had just escaped, and it 
was felt to be so, in their person. The 
fire, however, was not the only cause of 
this most acceptable change. One of the 
men who had been outside soon came back 
and reported a decided improvement in 
the weather. The wind, which had been 
coquetting with the northeast point of the 


compass for several hours, now blew. 
An hour | 


steadily from that quarter. 
later it was found, on examination, that a 
second thermometer, which was outside, 
actually indicated ten above zero! This 
sudden and great change came altogether 
from the wind, which was now in the 
warm quarter. The men stripped them- 
selves of most of their skins, and the fire 


was suffered to go down, though care was — 
taken that it should not again be totally — 


extinguished. 

We have little pleasure in exhibiting 
pictures of human suffering; and shall 
say but little of the groans and pains that 
Daggett uttered and endured, while un- 
dergoing that most agonizing process of 
having the frost taken out of his system 
by cold applications. It was the only safe 
way of treating his case, however, and as 
he knew it, he bore his sufferings as well 


This was absolutely warmth | 


oe 


luxury of sheets, 


a i ata a ie a te a 
, 


aS man could bear them. Long ere the 


return of day he was released from his 
agony, and was put back into his berth, 
which had been comfortably arranged 
for him, having the almost unheard-of 
with an additional 
mattress. 

Stephen remarked, when the men were 
told to try and get a little sleep, “‘ There’s 
plenty of berths empty, and each on us 


can have as many clothes and as warm a 


bed as he can ask for, now that so many 
have hastened away to their great account, 
as it might be, in the pride of their youth 


and strength.’’ 


Activity, the responsibility of command, 
and the great necessity there had been for 
exertion, prevented Roswell from reflect- 
ing much on what had happened, until he 
lay down to catch a little sleep. Then, 
indeed, the whole of the past came over 
him in one somber, terrible picture, and 
he had the most lively perception of the 
dangers from which he had escaped, as 
well as of the mercy of God’s providence. 
Surrounded by the dead, as it might be, 
and still uncertain of the fate of the living, 
his views of the past and future became 
much lessened in confidence and hope. 
The majesty and judgment of God as- 
sumed a higher place than. common in his 
thoughts, while his estimate of himself 
was fast getting to be humbled and 
searching. In the midst of all these 
changes of views and feelings, however, 
there was one image unaltered in the 
young man’simagination. Mary occupied 
the background of every picture, with her 
meek, gentle, but blooming countenance. 
If he thought of God, her eyes were ele- 
vated in prayer ; if the voyage home was 
in his mind, and the chances of success 
were calculated, her smiles and anxious 
watchfulness stimulated him to adven- 
ture; if arrived and safe, her downcast 
but joyful looks betrayed the modest hap- 
piness of her inmost heart. It was in the 
midst of some such pictures that Roswell 
now fell asleep. 

When the party turned out in the 


- morning, a still more decided change had 


occurred in the weather. The wind had in- 
creased to a gale, bringing with it torrents 


THE SHA LIONS. 


203 


of rain. Coming from the warm quarter, 
a thaw had set in with a character quite 
as decided as the previous frost. In that 
region the weather is usually exaggerated 
in its features, and the change from win- 
ter to spring is quite as sudden as that 
from autumn to winter. We use the 
terms “‘spring’’ and “‘autumn”’ out of 
complaisance to the usages of men; but 
in fact these two seasons have scarcely 
any existence at all in the antarctic seas. 
The change commonly is from winter to 
summer, such as summer is, and from 
summer back to winter. 

Notwithstanding the favorable appear- 
ances of things when Roswell walked out 
into ‘the open air next morning, he well 
knew that summer had not yet come. 
Many weeks must go by ere the ice could 
quit the bay, and even a boat could put to 
sea. There were considerations of pru- 
dence, therefore, that should not be neg- 
lected, connected with the continuance 
of the supplies and the means of subsist- 
ence. In one respect, the party now on 
the island had been gainers by the terrible 
losses it had sustained in Daggett’s crew. 
The provisions of the two vessels might 
now virtually be appropriated to the crew 
of one; and Roswell, when he came to 
reflect on the circumstances, saw that a 
Providential interference had probably 
saved the survivors from great priva- 
tions, if not from absolute want. 

Still there was a thaw, and one of that 
decided character which marks a climate . 
of great extremes. The snows on the 
mountain soon began to descend upon the 
plain in foaming torrents, and increased 
by the tribute received from the last, the 
whole came tumbling over the cliffs in 
various places in rich waterfalls. There 
was about a mile of rock that was one 
continuous cataract, the sheet being near- 
ly unbroken for the whole distance. The 
effect of this deluge from the plain above 
was as startling as it was grand. Ail the 
snow along the rocky shore soon disap- 
peared, and the fragments of ice began 
rapidly to diminish in size, and to crumbie. 
At first Roswell felt much concern on ac- 
count of the security of the wreck; his 
original apprehension being that it would 


ir 


204 


be washed away. This ground of fear 
was soon succeeded by another of scarce- 
ly less serious import—that of its being 
crushed by the enormous cakes of ice that 
made the caverns in which it lay, and 
which now began to settle and change 
their positions, as the water washed away 
their bases. At one time Roswell thought 
of setting the storm at defiance, and of 
carrying Daggett across to the house by 
means of the hand-barrow ; but when he 
came to look at the torrents of water that 
were crossing the rocks, so many raging 
rivulets, the idea was abandoned as im- 
practicable. Another night was _ there- 
fore passed in the midst of the tempest. 
The northeast wind, the rain, and: the 
thaw were allat work in concert when our 
adventurers came aboard to look upon the 
second day of their sojourn in the wreck. 
By this time the caverns were dripping 
with a thousand little streams, and every 
sign denoted a most rapid melting of the 
ice. On carrying the thermometer into 
the open air it stood at sixty-two, and the 
men found it necessary to lay aside their 
second shirt, and al the extraordinary 
defenses of their attire. Nor was this 
all; the wind that crosses the salt water 
is known to have more than the usual 
influence on the snows and ice; and such 
was the efiect now produced by it on 
Sealer’s Land. The snow, indeed, had 
mostly disappeared from all places but 
the drifts, while the ice was much dimin- 
ished in its size and outlines. So grate- 
ful was the change from the extreme cold 
that they had so lately endured, that the 
men thought nothing of the rain at all; 
they went about in it just as if it did not 
stream down upon them in little torrents. 
Some of them clambered up the clifts and 
reached a point whence it was known that 
they could command a view of the house. 
The return of this party, which Roswell 
did not accompany, was waited for witha 
good deal of interest. Whenit got back 
it brought a report that was deemed im- 
portant in several particulars. The snow 
had gone from the plain, and from the 
mountain, with the exception of a few 
spots where there had been unusual accu- 
mulations of it. As respected the house, 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


it was standing, and the snow had entirely 
disappeared from its vicinity. The men 
could be seen walking about on the bare 
rocks, and every symptom was that of 
settled spring. 

This was cheering news; and the tor- 
rents having much diminished in size, 
some having disappeared altogether, Ros- 
well set out for the cape, leaving the sec- 
ond mate in charge of the wreck. Lee, 
the young Vineyarder who had been res- 
cued from freezing by the timely arrival 
of our hero, accompanied the latter, hay- 
ing joined his fortunes to those of the Oys- 
ter Ponders. The two reached the house 
before dark, where they found Hazard and 
his companions in a good deal of concern 
touching the fate of the party that was 
out. A deep impression was made by the 
report of what had befallen the other crew ; 
and that night Roswell read prayers to as 
attentive a congregation as was ever as- 
sembled around a domestic hearth. As 
for fire, none was now needed, except for 
culinary purposes, though all the prepa- 
rations to meet cold weather were main- 
tained, it being well known that a shift of 
wind might bring back the fury of the 
winter. 

The following morning it was clear, 
though the wind continued warm and 
balmy from the north. No such weather, 
indeed, had been felt by the.sealers since 
they reached the group; and the effect on 
them was highly cheering and enlivening. 
Before he had breakfasted, Roswell was 
down in the cove, examining into the con- 
dition of the vessel, or what remained of 
her. A good deal of frozen snow still lay 
heaped on the mass, and he set the hands 
at work to shovel it off. Before noon the 
craft was clear, and most of the snow was 
melted, it requiring little more than ex- 
posure to the air in order to get rid of it. 

As soon as the hulk was clear, Roswell 
directed his men to take everything out of 
it; the remains of cargo, water - casks, 
and some frozen provisions, in order that 
it might float as light as possible. The 
ice was frozen close to every part of the 
vessel’s bottom to a depth of several feet, © 
folowing her mold, a circumstance that 


would necessarily prevent her settling in 


THE SEA LIONS. 


205 


4 the water below her timbers ; but, as there | high seas and in the open boats; and this 


was no telling when this ice might begin 


a to recede by melting, it was deemed pru- 
| dent to use this precaution. 


| It was found 
_ that the experiment succeeded, the hulk 
actually rising, when relieved from the 


5 _ weight in it, not less than four inches. 


A consultation was held that night, 


between Gardiner, his officers, and the 


oldest of the seamen. The question pre- 
sented was whether the party should at- 
tempt to quit the group in the boats, or 
whether they should build a little on the 
hulk, deck her over, and make use of this 
altered craft to return to the northward. 
There was a good deal to be said on both 
sides. If the boats were used, the party 
might leave as soon as the weather be- 
came settled, and the season a little more 
advanced, by dragging the boats on 
sledges across the ice to the open water, 
which was supposed to be some ten or 
twenty miles to the northward, and a 
large amount of provisions might thus be 
saved. On the other hand, however, as it 
regarded the provisions, the boats would 
hold so little, that no great gain would be 
made by going early in them, and leaving 
a sufficient supply behind to keep all hands 
two or three months. This was a con- 
sideration that presented itself, and it 
had its weight in the decision. Then 
there was the chance of the winter’s re- 
turning, bringing with it the absolute 
necessity of using a great deal more fuel. 
This was a matter of life and death. 
Comparatively pleasant as the weather 
had become, there was no security for its 
so continuing. One entire spring month 
was before the sealers, and a shift of wind 
might convert the weather into a wintry 
temperature. Should such be the case, it 
might become indispensable to burn the 
very materials that would be required to 
build up and deck over the hulk. There 
were, therefore, many things to be taken 
into the account ; nor was the question set- 
tled without a great deal of debate and 
refiection. 

After discussing all these points, the 
decision was as follows: It was at least 
a month too soon to think of trusting 
themselves in that stormy ocean, on the 


so much the more because Nature, as if 
expressly to send back a reasonable 
amount of warm air into the polar re- 
gions, with a view to preserve the dis- 
tinction of the seasons, caused the wind 
to blow most of the time from the north- 
ward. As this month, in all prudence, 
must be passed on the island, it might as 
well be occupied with building upon the 
hulk, as in any other occupation. Should 
the cold weather return, the materials 
would still be there, and might be burned, 
in the last extremity, just as well, or even 
with greater facility, after being brought 
over to the cove, as if left where they then 
were, or at the wreck. Should the winter 
not return, the work done on the vessel 
would be so much gained, and they would 
be ready for an earlier start, when the ice 
should move. 

On this last plan the duty was com- 
menced, very little interrupted by the 
weather. For quite three weeks the wind 
held from points favorable to the progress 
of spring, veering from east to west, but 
not once getting any southing init. Oc- 
casionally it blew in gales, sending down 
upon the group a swell that made great 
havoe with the outer edges of the field-ice. 
Every day or two a couple of hands were 
sent up the mountain to take a lookout, 
and to report the state of matters in the 
adjacent seas. The fleet of bergs had not 
yet come out of port, though it was in 
motion to the southward, like three-deck- 
ers dropping down to outer anchorages, 
in roadsteads and bays. As Rosweli in- 
tended to be off before these formidable 
cruisers put to sea, their smallest move- 
ment or change was watched and noted. 
As for the field-ice, it was broken up, 
miles at a time, until there remained very 
little of it, with the exception of the por- 
tion that was wedged in and jammed 
among the islands of the group. From 
some cause that could not be ascertained, 
the waves of the ocean, which came tum- 
bling in before the northern gales, failed 
to roll home upon this ice, which lost its 
margin, now it was reduced to the limits 
of the group, slowly and with great resist- 
ance. Some of the sealers ascribed this 


206 


obstinacy in the bay-ice to its greater 
thickness ; believing that the shallowness 
of the water had favored a frozen forma- 
tion below, that did not so much prevail 
This theory may have 
been true, though there was quite as 
much against it as in its favor, for 
polar ice usually increases above and not 
The sea is much warmer 


off soundings. 


from below. 
than the atmosphere, in the cold months, 
and the ice is made by deposits of snow, 
moisture, and sleet, on the surfaces of the 
fields and bergs. 

In those three weeks, which carried for- 
ward the season to within ten days of 
summer, a great deal of useful work was 
done. Daggett was brought over to the 
house, on a handbarrow, for the second 
time, and made as comfortable as circum- 
stances would allow. From the first, Ros- 
well saw that his state was very preca- 


rious, the frozen legs, in particular, being 


threatened with mortification. All the 
expedients known to the sealer’s materia 
medica were resorted to, in order to avert 
consequences so serious, but without suc- 
cess. The circulation could not be re- 
stored, as Nature required it to be done, 
and failing of the support derived from a 
healthful condition of the vital current, 
the fatal symptoms slowly supervened. 
This change, however, was so gradual, 
that it scarce affected the regular course 
of the duty. 

It was a work of great labor to trans- 
port the remaining timbers and plank of 
the wreck to the cove. Without the 
Wheels, indeed, it may be questioned 
whether it could have been done at all, in 
a reasonable time. The breaking up of 
the schooner was, in itself, no trifling job, 
for fully one half of the frame remained 
to be pulled to pieces. In preparing the 
materials for use, again, a good deal of 
embarrassment was experienced in conse- 
quence of the portions of the two vessels 
that were left being respectively their 
lower bodies, all the upper works of each 
having been burned, with the exception of 
the after part of Daggett’s craft, which 
had been preserved on account of the 
cabin. 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


This occasioned a good deal of 
trouble in molding and fitting the new 


upper works on the hulk in the cove. 
Roswell had no idea of rebuilding his 


schooner strictly in her old form and pro-. 


portions ; he did not, indeed, possess the 
materials for such a reconstruction. His 
plan was, simply, to raise on the hulk as 
much as was necessary to render her safe 
and convenient, and then to get as good 
and ‘secure a deck over all as circum- 
stances would allow. 

Fortunately for the progress of the 
work, Lee, the Vineyard man, was a ship- 
carpenter, and his skill essentially sur- 
passed that of Smith, who filled the same 
station on board the Oyster Pond craft. 
These two men were now of the greatest 
service ; for, though neither understood 
drafting, each was skilled in the use of 


tools, and a certain readiness that enabled 


him to do a hundred things that he had 
never found it necessary to attempt on 
any former occasion. If the upper frame 
that was now got on the Sea Lion was not 
of a faultless mold, it was securely fast- 


ened, and rendered the craft even stronger — 


than it had been originally. Some regard 
was had to resisting the pressure of ice, 
and experience had taught all the sealers 
where the principal defenses against the 
effects of a “nip”? ought to be placed. 
The lines were not perfect, it is true; but 
this was of less moment, as the bottom of 
the craft, which alone had any material 
influence on her sailing, was just as ithad 
come from the hands of the artisan who 
had originally molded her. 

By the end of a fortnight the new top- 
timbers were all in their places and 
secured, while a complete set of bends 
were brought to them, and were well 
bolted. The caulking-irons were put in 
requisition as soon as a streak was on, 
the whole work advancing, as it might 
be, part passu. Planks for the decks 
were much wanted, for, in the terrible 
strait for fuel which had caused the origi- 
nal assault on the schooner, this portion 
of the vessel had been the first burned, as 
of the most combustible materials. The 
quarter-deck of the Vineyard craft, luckily, 
was entire, and its planks so far answered 
an excellent purpose. They served to 
make a new quarter-deck for the repairs, 


| 


1 but the whole of the main-deck and fore- 
castle remained to be provided for. 


| Mate- 
rials were gleaned from different parts of 


' the two vessels, until a reasonably con- 


in those parts. 


venient, and a perfectly safe deck was laid 


over the whole craft, the coamings for 


the hatches being taken from Daggetit’s 


schooner, which had not been broken up 
It is scarcely necessary 


_ to say that the ice had early melted from 


the rocks of the coast. 


The caverns all 
disappeared within the first week of the 


thaw, the attitudes into which. the cakes 


had been thrown greatly favoring the 


- melting process, by exposing so much 
surface to the joint action of wind, rain, 


and sun. 


What was viewed as a favor- 


| able augury, the seals began to reappear. 


There was a remote portion of the coast, 
from which the ice had been driven by 
the winds around the northwest cape, 


that was already alive with them. Alas! 


these animals no longer awakened cupid- 
ity in the breasts of the sealers. The last 
no longer thought of gain, but simply of 
saving their lives, and of restoring them- 
selves to the humble places they had held 
in the world previously to having come on 
this ill-fated voyage. 

This reappearance of the seals produced 
a deep impression on Roswell Gardiner. 
His mind had been much inclined of late to 
dwell more and more on religious subjects, 
and his conversations with Stephen were 
still more frequent than formerly. Not 
that the boat-steerer could enlighten him 
on the great subject, by any learned lore, 
for in this Stimson was quite deficient ; 
but his officer found encouragement in the 
depth and heartiness of his companion’s 
faith, which seemed to be raised above all 
doubts and misgivings whatever. During 
the gloomiest moments of that fearful 
winter, Stephen had been uniformly con- 
fiding and cheerful. Not once had he been 


geen to waver, though all around him were 
_ desponding and anticipating the worst. 


His heart was light exactly in proportion 
as his faith was strong. 

«‘We shall neither freeze nor starve,”’ 
he used to say, “unless it be God’s will ; 
and, when it is his pleasure, depend on it, 


friends, it will be for our good.’ As for 


THE SHA LIONS. 


R07 


Daggett, he had finally given up his hold 
on the wreck, and it seemed no longer to 
fill his thoughts. When he was told that 
the seals had come back, his eyes bright- 
ened, and his nature betrayed some of its 
ardent longings. Butit was no more than 
a gleaming ofthe former spirit of the man, 
now becoming dim under the darkness 
that was fast encircling all his views of 
the world. 

“It’s a pity, Gar’ner, that we have no 
craft ready for the work,’’ he said, under 
the first impulse of the intelligence. ‘‘ At 
this early time in the season, a large ship 
might be filled ! 

“We have other matters on our hands, 
Captain Daggett,’? was the answer; 
‘‘they must be looked to first. If we 
can get off the island at all, and return 
safe to those who, I much fear, are now 
mourning us as dead, we shall have great 
reason to thank God.”’ 

‘¢ A few skins would do no great harm, 
Gar’ner, evento a craft cut down and re- 
duced.”’ 

‘We have more cargo now than we 
shall be able to take with us. Quite one- 
half of all our skins must be left behind us, 
and all of the oil. The hold of the 
schooner is too shallow to carry enough 
of anything to make out a voyage. I 
shall ballast with water and provisions, 
and fill up all the spare room with the 
best of ourskins. The rest of the property 
must be abandoned.’’ 

‘“Why abandoned? Leave a hand or 
two to take care of it, and send a craft out 
to look for it aS soon as you get home. 
Leave me, Gar’ner, [am willing to stay.”’ 

Roswell thought that the poor man 
would be left, whether he wished to re- 
main or not, for the symptoms that are 
known to be so fatal in cases like that of 
Daggett’s were making themselves so 
apparent as to leave little doubt of the 
result. What rendered this display of the 
master-passion somewhat remarkable was 
the fact that our hero had on several 
occasions conversed with the invalid, con- 
cealing no material feature of his case,, 
and the latter had expressed his expecta-- 
tion of a fatal termination, if not an ab- 
solute willingness to die. Stimson had 


208 


frequently prayed with Daggett, and Ros- 
well had often read particular chapters of 
the Bible to him, at his own request, 
creating an impression that the Vine- 
yarder was thinking more of his end than 
of any interest connected with this life. 
Such might have been, probably was the 
case, until the seeming return of what had 
once been deemed good luck awakened old 
desires, and brought out traits of char- 
acter that were about to be lost in the 
near views of a future world. All this 
Roswell saw and noted, and the refiection 
produced by his own perilous condition, 
the certain loss of so many companions, 
the probable death of Daggett, and the 
humble but impressive example and sym- 
pathy of Stimson, were such as would 
have delighted the tender spirit of Mary 
Pratt, could she have known of their 
existence. 

But the great consideration of the mo- 
ment, the center of all the hopes and fears 
of our sealers, was the rebuilding of the 
mutilated Sea Lion. Although the long 
thaw did so much for them, the reader is 
not to regard it as such a spell of warm 
weather as one enjoys in May within the 
temperate zone. There were no flowers, 
no signs of vegetation, and whenever the 
wind ceased to blow smartly from the 
northward, there was frost. At two or 
three intervals cold snaps set in that 
looked seriously like a return to winter, 
and at the end of the third week of pleas- 
ant weather mentioned, it began to blow 
a gale from the southward, to snow, and 
to freeze. The storm commenced about 
ten in the forenoon; ere the sun went 
down, the days then being of great 
length, every passage around the dwell- 
ing was already blocked up with banks 
of snow. Several times had the men 
asked permission to remove the sails 
from the house, to admit air and light; 
but it was now found’ that the tent-like 
veranda they formed was of as much use 
as it had been at any time during the 
season. Without it, indeed, it would not 
have been possible for the people to quit 
their dwelling during three entire days. 
_ Everything like work was, of course, sus- 


WORKSOF FENIMORE OOOPER. 


1 


ously menaced the unfortunate sealers 


with the necessity of again breaking up 
their schooner, now nearly completed, 
with a view again to keep themselves 
from freezing. The weather was not so 
intensely cold as it had been, continuously, 
for months during the past winter ; but, 
coming as it did, after so long a spell of 
what might be considered as a balmy at- 
mosphere in that region, it found the peo- 
ple unbraced, and little prepared for it. 

At no time was the thermometer lower 
than twenty degrees below zero; this 
was near morning, after a sharp and 
stinging night ; nor was it for any suc- 
cession of hours much below zero. But 
zero was now hard to bear, and fires, and 
good fires too, were absolutely necessary 
to keep the men from suffering, as well 
as from despondency. Perhaps the spec- 
tacle of Daggett, dying from the effects 
of frost, before their eyes, served to in- 
crease the uneasiness of the people, and 
to cause them to be less sparing of the 
fuel than persons in their situations ought. 
to have been. It is certain that a report 
was brought to Roswell, in the height of 
the tempest, and when the thermometer 
was at the lowest, that there was not 
wood enough left from the plunder of the 
two vessels, exclusively of that which had 
been worked up in the repairs, to keep 
the fires going eight-and-forty hours long-. 
er! It was true, a little wood, intended 
to be used in the homeward passage, 
enough to last as far as Rio possibly, 
had been used in stowing the hold; and 
that might be got at first, if it ever 
ceased to snow. Without that addition 
to the stock in the house, it would not be 
within the limits of probability to suppose 
the people could hold out against the 
severity of such weather a great while 
longer. had 

Every expedient that could be devised 
to save wood, and to obtain warmth from 
other sources, was resorted to, of course, 
by Roswell’s orders. Lamps were burned 
with great freedom; not little vessels in- 
vented to give light, but such torches as 
one sees at the lighting up of a princely 
courtyard on the occasion of a féte, in 


pended during this tempest, which seri-| which wicks are made by the pound, and 


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“There must be life in him 
minutes since he gave that last 


yet, sir, niggey as he his. 
cry.”’—The Sea Lions. 


It’s not yet twenty 


“unetuous matter is used by the gallon. 
‘Old canvas and elephants’ oil supplied the 
“materials ; and the spare caboose, which 
‘had been brought over to the house to be 
get up there, while the other galley was 
being placed on board, very well answered 
‘the purpose of a lamp. Some warmth 
was obtained by these means, but much 
‘more of a glaring and unpleasant light. 
It was during the height of this tempest 
that the soul of Daggett took its flight 
toward the place of departed spirits, in 
preparation for the hour when it was to 
be summoned before the judgment-seat of 
God. Previously to his death, the un- 
fortunate Vineyarder held a frank and 
‘confidential discourse with Roswell. As 
his last hour approached, his errors and 
“mistakes became more distinctly appar- 
ent, as is usual with men, while his sins of 
pomission seemed to crowd the vista of by- 
gone days. Then it was that the whole 
earth did not contain that which, in his 
“dying eyes, would prove an equivalent for 
one hour passed in a sincere, devout, and 
humble service of the Deity ! 
_ “Ym afraid that I’ve loved money most 
too well,’’ he said to Roswell, not an hour 
before he drew his last breath; ‘‘but I 
: hope it was not so much for myself as for 
others. A wife and children, Gar’ner, tie 
a man to ’arth in a most unaccountable 
“manner. Sealers’ companions are used to 
hearing of misfortunes, and the Vineyard 
women know that few on ’em live to see a 
husband at their side in old age. Still, it 
bis hard on a mother and wife to l’arn that 
her chosen friend has been cut off in the 
“pride of his days, and in a distant land. 
Poor Betsy! It would have been better 
for us both had we. been satisfied with the 
little we had; for now the good woman 
will have to look to all matters for her- 
) self.”’ 
: Daggett now remained silent for some 
’ time, though his lips moved, most prob- 
ably in prayer. It wasa melancholy sight 
to see a man in the vigor of his manhood, 
whose voice was strong, and whose heart 
was still beating with vigor and vitality, 
standing, as it were, on the brink of a 
precipice, down which all knew he was to 
be so speedily hurled. But the decree had 


THE SHA LIONS. 


209 


gone forth, and no human skill could ar- 
rest it. Shortly after the confession and 
lamentation we have recorded, the decay 
reached the vitals, and the machine of clay 
stopped. To avoid the unpleasant conse- 
quences of keeping the body in so warm a 
place, it was buried in the snow a short 
distance from the house, within an hour 
after it had ceased to breathe. 

When Roswell Gardiner saw this man, 
who had so long adhered to him like a 
leech, in the pursuit of gold, laid a sense- 
less corpse among the frozen flakes of the 
antarctic seas, he felt that a lively ad- 
monition of the vanity of the world was 
administered to himself. How little had 
he been able to foresee all that had hap- 
pened, and how mistaken had been his 
own calculations and hopes! What, then, 
was that intellect of which he had been so 
proud, and what reason had he to rely on 
himself in those matters that lay equally 
beyond the cradle and the grave—that in- — 
comprehensible past, and the unforeseen 
future toward which all those in existence. 
were hastening! Roswell had received 
many lessons if humility, the most useful 
of all the lessons that man can receive in 
connection with the relation that really 
exists between the Deity and _ himself. 
Often had he wondered, while reading the 
Bible Mary Pratt had put into his hand, 
at the stubborn manner in which the 
chosen people of God had returned to 
their ‘‘idols,’? and their ‘‘ groves,’’ and 
their “high places;’’ but he was now 
made to understand that others still erred 
in this great particular, and that of all 
the idols men worship, that of self was 
perhaps the most objectionable. 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 


‘‘ Long swoln in drenching rains, seeds, germs, ‘and ° 
buds, 
Start at the touch of vivifying beams. 
Moved by their secret voice, the vital lymph 
Diffusive runs, and spreads o’er wood and field 
A flood of verdure.’’— WILCOX. 


At length it came to be rumored among 
the sealers that the fires must be per- 
mitted to go out, or that the materials 


210 


used for making the berths, and various 
other fixtures of the house, must be taken 
to supply the stove. It was when it got 
to be known that the party was reduced 
to this sad dilemma that Roswell broke 
through the bank of snow that almost 
covered the house, and got so far into the 
open air as to be able to form some esti- 
mate of the probable continuance of the 
present cold weather. The thermometer, 
within the bank of snow, but outside of the 
building, then stood at twenty below zero; 
but it was much colder in the unobstructed 
currents of as keen and biting a south 
wind as ever came howling across the vast 
fields of ice that covered the polar basin. 
The snow had long ceased, but not until 
an immense quantity had fallen; nearly 
twice as much, Roswell and Hazard 
thought, as they had seen on the rocks at 
any time that winter. 

“‘T see no signs of a change, Mr. Haz- 
ard,’’ Roswell remarked, shivering with 
the intensity of the cold. ‘‘Wehad better 
go back into the house before we get 
chilled, for we have no fire now to go to, 
to warm ourselves. It is much warmer 
within doors than it is in the open air, fire 
or no fire.”’ 

‘“There are many reasons for that, 
Captain Gar’ner,’’ answered the mate. 
““So many bodies in so small a space, the 
shelter from the outer wind and outer air, 
and the snow-banks, all help us. I think 
we Shall find the thermometer in-doors at 
a pretty comfortable figure this morning.’’ 

On examining it, it was found to stand 
at only fifteen below zero, making a differ- 
ence of five degrees in favor of the house, 
as compared with the sort of covered gal- 
lery under the tent, and probably of five 
more, aS compared with the open air. 

On a consultation, it was decided that 
all hands should eat a hearty meal, remove 
most of their clothes, and get within the 
coverings of their berths, to see if it would 
not be possible to wear out the cold spell, 
in some tolerable comfort, beneath rugs 
and blankets. On the whole it was thought 
that the berths might be made more ser- 
viceable by this expedient, than by putting 
their materials into the stoves. Accord- 
ingly, within an hour after Roswell and 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


his mate had returned from their brief 
out-door excursion, the whole party was 
snugly bestowed under piles of rugs, 
clothes, sails, and whatever else might 
be used to retain the animal heat near the 


body, and exclude cold. In this manner 
six-and-thirty hours were passed, not a 
man of them all having the courage to 
rise from his lair, and encounter the 
severity of the climate, now unrelieved 
by anything like a fire. 


Roswell had slept most of the time dur- 


ing the last ten hours, and in this he was 
much like all around him. A general feel- 
ing of drowsiness had come over the men, 
and the legs and feet of many among 
them, notwithstanding the quantity of 
bedclothes that were, in particular, piled 
on that part of their person, were sensi- 
tively alive to the cold. No one ever knew 
how low the thermometer went that fear- 


ful night ; but a sort of common conscious- 


ness prevailed, that nothing the men had 
yet seen, or felt, equaled its chill horrors. 


The cold had got into the house, convert- 
ing every article it contained into a mass 
of frost. The berths ceased to be warm, 
and the smallest exposure of a shoulder, 
hand, or ears, soon produced pain. The 
heads of very many of the party were 
affected, and breathing became difficult 
and troubled. A numbness began to steal 
over the lower limbs; and this was the 
last unpleasant sensation remembered by 
Roswell, when he fell into another short 
and.disturbed slumber. The propensity 
to sleep was very general now, though — 
many struggled against it, knowing it 
was the usual precursor of death by 
freezing. 

Our hero never knew how long he slept 
in the last nap he took on that memorable — 
occasion. When he awoke, he found a 
bright light blazing in the hut, and heard — 
some one moving about the caboose. Then — 
his thoughts reverted to himself, and to 
the condition of his limbs.. On trying to 
rub his feet together, he found them so 
nearly without sensation as to make the — 
consciousness of their touching each other 
almost out of the question. Taking the | 
alarm at once, he commenced a violent 
friction, until by slow degrees he could — 


getting again into motion. So great had 
‘been Roswell’s alarm, and so intent his 
‘occupation, that he took no heed of the 
| ‘person who was busy at the caboose, until 
the man appeared at the side of his berth, 
holding a tin pot in his hand. It was 
Stimson, up and dressed, without his 
skins, and seemingly in perfect preserva- 
tion. 

_ * Here’s some hot coffee, Captain Gar’- 
ner,’ said the provident boat-steerer, 
“and then turn out. The wind has 
shifted, by the marcy of God, and it has 
begun to rain. Now, I think we may 
have summer in ’arnest, as summer comes 
among these sealin’ islands.’’ 

5 Roswell took six or eight swallows of 
the coffee, which was smoking hot, and 
instantly felt the genial influence diffused 
over his whole frame. Sending Stephen 
to the other berths with this timely bev- 
erage, he now sat up in his berth, and 
rubbed his feet and legs with his hands. 
lhe exercise, friction, and hot coffee, soon 
rought him round; and he sprang out 
si his berth, and was quickly dressed. 


Stimson had lighted a fire in the caboose, 
sing the very last of the wood, and the 
Bermth was beginning to diffuse itself 
through the building. But the change in 
he wind, and the consequent melioration 
of the temperature, probably alone saved 
the whole of the Oyster Pond crew from 
xperiencing the dire fate of that of the 
Vineyard craft. 
_ Stephen got man after man out of his 
perth, by doses of the steaming coffee ; 
and the blood being thus stimulated, by 
the aid of friction, everybody was soon up 
and stirrmg. It was found, on inquiry, 
that all three of the blacks had toes or 
pars frozen, and with them the usual ap- 
plication of snow became necessary ; but 
a temperature of the house soon got to 
be so high as to render the place quite 
comfortable. Wari food being deemed 
very essential, Stephen put a supply of 
oe and pork into his hopper; and the 
frost having been extracted from a quan- 
tity of the bread by soaking it in cold 
water, a hearty meal of good, hot, and 
most nourishing food, was made by all 


| i 
a 


a 


THH SEA LIONS. 


feel that the nearly stagnant blood was | hands. 


211 


This set our sealers up, no more 
complaints of the frost being heard. 

It was, indeed, no longer very cold. 
The thermometer was up to twenty-six 
above zero in the house when Roswell 
turned out; and the cooking process, to- 
gether with Stephen’s fires and the shift 
of wind, soon brought the mercury up to 
forty. This wasa cheering temperature 
for those who had been breathing the 
polar air; and the influence of the north- 
east gale continued to increase. The rain 
and thaw produced another deluge; and 
the cliffs presented, for several hours, a 
sight that might have caused Niagara to 
hide her head in mortification. These 
sublime scenes are of frequent occurrence 
amid the solitudes of the earth; the occa- 
sional phenomena of Nature often surpass- 
ing in sublimity and beauty her rarest 
continued efforts. 

The succeeding day the rain ceased, and 
summer appeared to have come in reality. 
It is true that at midday the thermometer 
in the shade stood at only forty-eight ; 
but in the sun it actually rose to seventy. 
Let those who have ever experienced the 
extremes of heat and cold imagine the 
delight with which our sealers moved 
about under such a sun! All excess of 
clothing was thrown aside; and many of 
the men actually pursued their work in 
their shirt-sleeves. 

As the snow had vanished quite as sud- 
denly as it came, everything and every- 
body was now in active motion. Not a 
man of the crew was disposed to run the 
risk of encountering any more cold on 
Sealer’s Land. Roswell himself was of 
opinion that the late severe weather was 
the dying effort of the winter, and that no 
more cold was to be expected ; and Stim- 
son agreed with him in this notion. The 
sails were taken down from around the 
house, and those articles it was intended 
to carry away were transferred to the 
schooner as fast as the difficulties of the 
road would allow. While his mates were 
carrying on this duty, our young master 
took an early occasion to examine the 
state of matters generally on the isl- 
and. With this view he ascended to the 
plain, and went half-way up the moun- 


212 


tain, desiring to get a good look into the 
offing. 

It was soon ascertained that the recent 
deluge had swept all the ice and every 
trace of the dead into the sea. The body 
of Daggett had disappeared with the 
snow-bank in which it had been buried ; 
and all the carcasses of the seals had been 
washed away. Ina word, the rocks were 
as naked and as clean as if man’s foot had 
never passed over them. From the facts 
that skeletons of seals had been found 
strewed along the north shore, and the 
present void, Roswell was led to infer that 
the late storm had been one of unusual in- 
tensity, and most probably of a character 
to occur only at long intervals. 

But the state of the ice was the point of 
greatest interest. The schooner could 
now be got ready for sea in a week, and 
that easily; but there she lay, tmbedded 
in a field of ice that still covered nearly 
the whole of the waters within the group. 
As Roswell stood on the cliffs which over- 
looked the cove, he calculated the dis- 
tance it would be necessary to take the 
schooner through the ice by sawing and 
cutting, and that through a field known 
to be some four feet thick, and five good 
miles at least. So Herculean did this task 
appear to be, that he even thought of 
abandoning his vessel altogether, and of 
setting out in the boats, as soon as the 
summer was fairly commenced. On reflec- 
tion, however, this last plan was reserved 
as a dernier ressort, the danger of en- 
countering the tempests of those seas 
in a whale - boat, without covering or 
‘fire, being much too great to be thought 
of, so long as any reasonable alternative 
offered. 

The bergs to the southward were in 
motion, and a large fleet of them was 
putting to sea,as it might be, coming in 
from those remote and then unknown re- 
gions in which they were formed. From 
the mountain our hero counted at least a 
hundred, all regular shaped, with tops 
like that of table-land, and with even, 
regular sides, and upright attitudes. It 
was very desirable to get ahead of these 
new maritime Alps, for the ocean to the 
northward was unusually clear of ice of 


reasons: No field-ice had ever blocked up — 


wa 
™ 


all kinds, that lodged between the islands 
excepted. | 

So long as it was safe to calculate on 
the regular changes of the seasons, Ros- 
well knew that patience and vigilance 
would serve his turn, by bringing every-_ 
thing round in its proper time and place. — 
But it was by no means certain that it 
was. a usual occurrence for the Great 
Bay to be crammed with field-ice, as had 
happened the past winter; if the actual 
state of the surrounding waters were an 
exception instead of the rule. On examin- — 
ing the shores, however, it was found 
that the rain and melted snow had 
created a sort of margin, and that the 
strong winds which had been blowing, 
and which in fact were still blowing, 
had produced a gradually increasing at- 
trition, until a space existed between the © 
weather-side of the field and the rocks 
that was some thirty fathoms wide. This 
was an important discovery, and brought 
up a most grave question for decision. 

Owing to the shape of the surrounding 
land, it would not be possible for the ice 
to float out in a body for two or three 
months to come; or until so much had 
melted as to leave room for the field to 
pass the capes and headlands. It never 
could have entered the bay for the same 
reason, but for the resistless power of a 
field that extended leagues out into the — 
ocean, where, acted on jointly by wind 
and tide, it came down with a momentum ~ 
that was resistless, ripping and tearing 
the edges of the field as if they had been 
so much freshly turned-up mould. It — 
was, then, a question how to get the 
schooner out of her present bed, and into 
clear water. 

The reader will probably remember 
that, on her first arrival at the group, the — 
Sea Lion had entered the Great Bay 
from the southward; while, in her subse- — 
quent effort to get north, she had gone — 
out by the opposite passage. Now, it oc- 
curred to Roswell that he might escape 
by the former of these routes more readily 
than by the latter, and for the following 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


se 


a ——— 


SS ——— ae 


the southern passage, which was now — 
quite clear, though the approach to it just — 


he northeast gale, that was still blowing, 
| pressed home against the rocks the field 


wind, however, must soon come; and, 
- when that change occurred, it was certain 
that this field would move in an opposite 
‘direction, leaving the margin of open 
water, that has already been mentioned, 
all along the rocks. The distance was 
considerable, it is true—not less than 
fifteen miles—and the whole of it was to 
be made quite close to sharp angular 
rocks that would penetrate the schooner’s 
side almost as readily as an axe, in the 
event of a nip; but this danger might be 
_ avoided by foresight, and a timely atten- 
bion to the necessities of the case. Seeing 
no more available plan to get the vessel 
out of her present duress, the mates came 
readily into this scheme, and preparations 
were made to carry it out. As the cove 
was so near the northeast end of Sealer’s 
Land, it may be well to explain that the 
‘eason this same mode of proceeding could 
not be carried out in a northern direction, 
was the breadth of the field seaward, and 
the danger of following the north shore 
when the solid ice did leave it, on account 
of the quantities of broken fragments that 
were tossing and churning in its front, 
far as the eye could reach from the cliffs 
themselves. 
The third day after the commencement 
of the thaw, the wind came around again 
from the southwest, blowing heavily. As 
was expected, this soon began to set the 
field in motion, driving it over toward the 
volcano, and at the same time northerly. 
About six inthe morning, Hazard brought 
a report to Roswell that a margin of open 
water was beginning to form all along 
under the cliffs, while there was great 
danger that the channel which had been 
cut from the schooner to the nearest point 
beneath the rocks, in readiness for this 
very contingency, might be closed by the 
pressure of the ice without on that within 
the cove. No time was to be lost, there- 
fore, if it was intended to move the craft 
on this shift of wind. The distance that 
had been sawed through to make the chan- 
nel just named did not exceed a hundred 


THE SHA LIONS. 


| 


213 


: shen was choked by the manner in which | yards. The passage was not much wider 


than the schooner’s breadth; and it will 
be easily understood that it was to the last 


"that so nearly filled the bay. <A shift of | degree important to carry her through 


this strait as soon as possible. 

Although many useful articles were 
scattered about on the ice, and several 
remained to be brought over the rocks 
from the house, the order was given to 
get out lines, and to move the vessel at 
once: the men set to work with hearty 
good-will, another glimpse of home rising 
before their imaginations; and, in five 
minutes after Hazard had made his com- 
munication, the Sea Lion had gone six or 
eight times her length toward the cliffs. 
Then came the pinch! Had not the ice 
been solid between the cape and the berth 
just before occupied by the schooner, she 
would have been hopelessly nipped by the 
closing of the artificial channel. As it 
was, she was caught, and her progress 
was arrested, but the field took a cant, in 
consequence of the resistance of the solid 


ice that filled the whole cove to the east- . 


ward of the channel; and, before any 
damage was done, the latter began to 
open even faster than it had come to- 
gether. The instant the craft was re- 
leased, the sealers manned their hauling 
lines again, and ran her up to the rocks 
with a hurrah! The margin of water 
was just opening, but so prompt had been 
the movement of the men that it was not 
yet wide enough to permit the vessel to 
go any further; and it was found neces- 
sary to wait until the passage was suffi- 
ciently wide to enable her to move ahead. 
The intervening time was occupied in 
bringing to the craft the articles left 
behind. 

By nine o’clock everything was on 
board; the winding channel that followed 
the sinuosities of the coast could be traced 
far as the eye could see; the lines were 
manned; and the word was again given 
to move. Roswell now felt that he was 
engaged in much the most delicate of all 
his duties. The desperate run through 
the fleet of bergs, and the second attempt 
to get to sea, were not in certain particu- 
lars as hazardous as this. The field had 
been setting back and forth now for 


214 


several weeks; the margin of clear water 
increasing by the attrition at each return 
to the rocks ; and it was known by obser- 
vation that these changes often occurred 
at very short notices. Should the wind 
haul round with the sun, or one of the 
unaccountable currents of those seas in- 
tervene before the southeast cape was 
reached, the schooner would probably be 
broken into splinters, or ground into pow- 
der, in the course of some two or three 
hours. It was all-important, therefore, 
to lose not a moment. 

Several times in the course of the first 
hour the movement of the schooner was 
arrested by the want of sufficient room to 
pass between projecting points in the cliffs 
and the edge of the ice. On two of these 
occasions passages were cut with the saw, 
the movement of the field not answering 
to the impatience of the sealers. At the end 
of that most momentous hour, however, 
the craft had been hauled ahead a mile and 
a half, and had reached a curvature in the 
- coast where the margin of open water was 
more than fifty fathoms wide, and the 
tracking of the vessel became easy and 
rapid. By two o’clock the Sea Lion was 
at what might be called the bottom of the 
Great Bay, some three or four leagues 
from the cove, and at the place where the 
long low cape began to run out in asouth- 
easterly direction. As the wind could now 
be felt over the rocks, the foretopsail was 
set, as well as the lower sails, the latter 
being mainly becalmed, however, by the 
land, when the people were all taken on 
board, the craft moving faster under her 
canvas than by means of the hauling lines. 
The wind was very fresh, and in half an 
hour more the southeast cape came in 
sight, close as were the navigators to the 
rocks. Ten minutes later the Sea Lion 
was under reefed sails, stretching off to 
the southward and eastward, in perfectly 
clear water ! 

At first Roswell Gardiner was disposed 
to rejoice, under the impression that his 
greatest labor had been achieved. <A bet- 
ter look at the state of things around him, 
however, taught the disheartening lesson 
of humility, by demonstrating that they 
had in truth but just commenced. 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. } i 


Although there was scarcely any field- 
ice to the southward of the group, and in 
its immediate neighborhood, there was a 
countless number of bergs. It is true, 
these floating mountains did not come 
near the passage, for the depth of water 


just there usually brought them up ere 


they could get into it; nevertheless, a 
large fleet of them was blockading the 
entire group, as far as the eye could reach, 
looking east, west, and south, or along 
the whole line of the southern coast. It 
was at first questionable whether, and 
soon after it became certain, that the 
schooner could never beat through such 
dangers. Had the wind been fair, the 
difficulty would have been insurmountable; 
but ahead, and blowing a little gale, the 
matter was out of the question. Some 
other course must be adopted. 

There was a choice of alternatives. One 
was to go entirely round the whole group, 
passing to the eastward of the volcano, 
where no one of the party had ever been ; 
and the other was to follow the eastern 
margin of the bay, keeping inside of it, 
and trusting to find some opening by 
which the schooner could force her way 
into clear water to the northward. After 
a very brief consultation with his mates, 
Roswell decided on attempting the last. 

As the course now to be steered was 
almost dead before the wind, the little 
craft, lightened of so much of her upper 
works, almost flew through the water. 
The great source of apprehension felt by 
our young men in attempting this new 
expedient was in the probability that the 
field would drift home to the rocks in the 
northeast quarter of the bay, which, with 
a southwest wind, was necessarily a 
quarter to leeward. Should this oro 
to be the case, it might be found impos-— 
sible to pass ahead, and the schooner | 
would be caught in a cul de sac; since it 
would not be in the power of her people to 
track her back again in the teeth of so 
strong a wind. Notwithstanding these 
probabilities, on Roswell went ; for he saw — 
plain enough that at such a moment almost 
anything was better than indecision. | 

The rate at which the little craft was 
flying before a fresh gale, in perfectly 


smooth water, soon put our sealers in a 
better condition to form closer estimates 
of their chances. The lookouts aloft, one 
of whom was Hazard, the first officer, 
sent down on deck constant reports of 
what they could see. 

_ “How does it look ahead now, Mr. 
Hazard ?’’ demanded Roswell, about five 
in the afternoon, just as his schooner was 
coming close under the smoking sides of 
the volcano, which had always been an 
object of interest to him, though he had 
never found time to visit it before. ‘Is 
there no danger of our touching the 
ground, close in as we are to this island? ”’ 
«1 think not, sir; when I landed here, 
we kept the lead going the whole time, 
and we got two fathoms quite up to the 
shore. In my judgment, Captain Gayr’- 
ner, we may run down along this land as 
bold as lions.’’ 

_ * And how does it look ahead? I’veno 
wish to get jammed here, close aboard of 
a volcano, which may be choking us all 
with its smoke before we know where we 
are.”’ ) 

“Not much danger of that, sir, with 

this wind. These volcanoes are nothin’ 
but playthings, a’ter all. The vapor is 
driving off toward the northeast—That 
was a crack, with a vengeance ! ”’ 
Just as Hazard was boasting of the in- 
nocuous character of a volcano, that near 
them fired a gun, as the men afterward 
called it, casting into the air a large 
flight of cinders and stones, accompanied 
by a sharp flash of flame. All the lighter 
‘materials drove away to leeward, but the 
heavier followed the laws of projectiles, 
and scattered in all directions. Several 
stones of some size fell quite close to the 
schooner, and a few smaller actually came 
down on her decks. 

“Tt will never do to stop here to boil 
our pot,’’ cried Roswell to the mate. 
“We must get away from this, Mr. 
Hazard, as fast as the good craft can 
travel !”’ : 

— Get away itis, sir. There is nothing 
very near ahead to stop us; though it 
does look more toward the east cape as if 
the field was jammed in that quarter.”’ 

“Keep ajl your eyes about you, sir; 


THE SEA LIONS. 


215 


and look out especially for any opening 
among the smaller islands ahead. I am 
not without hope that the currents which 
run among them may give us a clear pas- 
sage in that quarter.”’ 

These words explain precisely that 
which did actually occur. On went the 
schooner, almost brushing the base of the 
volcano, causing Roswell many a bound of 
the heart, when he fancied she must 
strike ; but she went clear. All this time 
it was crack, crack, crack, from the 
crater, rumbling sounds and heavy explo- 
sions; the last attended by flames, and 
smoke of a\pitchy darkness. <A dozen 
times the Sea Lion had very narrow es- 
capes when nearer to the danger, stones 
of a weight to pass through her decks and 
bottom falling even on the ice outside of 
her ; but that Hand which had so benevo- 
lently stayed various other evils, was 
stretched forth to save, and nothing 
touched the schooner of a size to do any 
injury. These escapes made a deep im- — 
pression on Roswell. Until the past win- 
ter he had been accustomed to look upon 
things and events as matters of course. 
This vacant indifference, so common to 
men in prosperity, was extended even to 
the sublimest exhibition of the Almighty 
power; our hero seeing nothing in the 
firmament of heaven, of a clear night, but 
the twinkling lights that seemed to him 
to be placed there merely to garnish and 
illumine the darkness of this globe. Now, 
how differently did he look upon natural 
objects, and their origin! If it were only 
an insect, his mind presented its wonder- 
ful mechanism, its beauty, its uses. No 
star seemed less than what science has 
taught us that it is; and the power of the 
Dread Being who had created all, who 
governed all, and who was judge of all, 
became an inseparable subject of contem- 
plation, as he looked upon the least of his 
works. Feelings thus softened and tem- 
pered by humility, easily led their sub- 
ject to the reception of those leading arti- 
cles of the Christian faith which have been 
consecrated by the belief of the Church 
catholic since the ages of miraculous guid- 
ance, and which are now venerable by 
time. Bold and presuming is he who fan- 


216 


cies that his intellect can rectify errors of 
this magnitude and antiquity, and that 
the Church of God has been permitted to 
wallow on in a most fatal idolatry for cen- 
turies, to be extricated by the pretending 
Syllogisms of his one-sided and narrow 
philosophy ! 

The people of the Sea Lion were less 
affected by what they saw than their 
young commander. Their hearts were 
light with the prospect of a speedy re- 
lease from the hardships and dangers they 
had undergone; and, at each explosion of 
the volcano, as soon as out of reach of the 
falling stones, they laughed, and asserted 
that the mountain was firing a salute in 
honor of their departure. Such is the 
difference between men whose hearts and 
Spirits have submitted to the law of faith, 
and those who live on in the recklessness 
of the passing events of life. 

The schooner was racing past a rocky 
islet, beginning to haul more ona wind, as 
She made the circuit of the bay, just as 
Hazard came to the conclusion that the 
field had drifted home on the outer island 
of the group, and that it would be impos- 
sible to pass into clear water by going on. 
Turning his head in quest of some bay, or 
other secure place in which the craft 
might wait for a favorable change, he saw 
a narrow opening to leeward of the islet 
he had passed but a minute before, and, 
so far as he could perceive, one that led 
directly out to sea. 

It was too late to keep away for the en- 
trance of the passage, the ice being’ too 
close at hand to leeward ; but, most fort- 
unately, there was room to tack. A call 
to Roswell soon caused the schooner to be 
close on a wind ; down went her helm, and 
round she came likeatop. Sail was short- 
ened in stays, and by the time the little 
craft was ready to fall off for the passage, 
she had nothing on her but a fore-topsail, 
jib, and a close-reefed mainsail. Under 
this canvas she glided along, almost 
brushing the rocks of the islet, but with- 
out touching. In twenty minutes more 
she was clear of the group altogether, 
and in open water. 

That night some embarrassment was 
encountered from brokén field -ice, of 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. : 


which the ocean was pretty full; but by 
exercising great vigilance, no serious 
thump occurred. Fortunately the period 
of darkness was quite short, the twilight 
being of great length, both mornings and 
evenings; and the reappearence of the 
sun cast a cheerful glow on the face of 
the troubled waters. | 
The wind held at southwest for three 
days, blowing heavily the whole time. 
By the second night-fall the sea was clear 
of ice, and everything was carried on the 
Schooner that she could bear. About 
nine o’clock on the morning of the fourth 
day out, a speck was seen rising above 
the ragged outline of the rolling waves ; 
and each minute it became higher and 
more distinct. An hour or two later, the 
Sea Lion was staggering along before a 
westerly gale, with the Hermit of Cape 
Horn on her larboard beam, distant three 
leagues. How many trying scenes and 
bitter moments crowded on the mind of 
young Roswell Gardiner as he recalled all 
that had passed in the ten months which 
intervened since he had come out from 
behind the shelter of those wild rocks! _ 
Stormy as was that sea, and terrible as_ 
was its name among mariners, coming, as 
he did, from one still more stormy and 
terrible, he now regarded it as a sort of . 
place of refuge. A winter there he well | 
knew would be no trifling undertaking ; — 
but he had just passed a winter in a re- — 
sion where even fuel was not to be found, — 
unless carried there. 4 
Twenty days later the Sea Lion sailed ; 
again from Rio, having sold all the sea- _ 
elephant oil that remained, and bought ; 
stores; of which, by this time, the vessel ' 
was much in want. Most of the portions — 
of the provisions that were left had been 
damaged by the thawing process; and 
food was getting to be absolutely neces- — 
sary to her people, when the schooner 
went again into the noble harbor of the 
capital of Brazil. Then succeeded the las- _ 
situde and calms that reign about the 
imaginary line that marks the circuit of 
the earth, at that point which is ever cen-_ 
tral as regards the sun, and where the 
days and nights are always equal. No 
inclination of the earth’s axis to the plane 


Py) 
ne THE 


é 


of its orbit affected the climate there, 
which knew not the distinctions of sum- 
mer and winter; or which, if they exist 
at all, were so faintly marked as to be 
nearly imperceptible. 
Twenty days later the schooner was 
standing among some low sandy keys 
under short canvas, and in the southeast 
trades. By her movements, an anchorage 
was sought; and one was found at last, 
where the craft was brought up, boats 
were hoisted out, and Roswell Gardiner 
landed. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 


“Tf every ducat in six thousand ducats 

_ Were in six parts, and every part a ducat, 

_ I would not draw them; I would have my bond.” 
—-SHAKESPEARE. 


THE earth had not stopped in its swift 
race around the sun at Oyster Pond, 
while all these events were in the course 
of occurrence in the antarctic seas. The 
summer had passed, that summer which 
was to have brought back the sealers; 
and autumn had come to chill the hopes 
as well as the body. Winter did not bring 
any change. Nothing was heard of Ros- 
well and his companions, nor could any- 
thing have been heard of them short of 
the intervention of a miracle. 

Mary Pratt no longer mentioned Ros- 
well in her prayers. She fully believed 
him to be dead; and her puritanical 
creed taught her that this, the sweetest 
and most endearing of all the rites of 
Christianity, was allied to a belief that 
it was sacrilege to entertain. We pre- 
tend not to any distinct impressions on 
this subject ourseives, beyond a sturdy 
Protestant disinclination to put any faith 
in the abuses of purgatory at least ; but 
most devoutly do we wish that such 
petitions could have the efficacy that so 
large a portion of the Christian world 
impute to them. But Mary Pratt, so 
‘much better than we can lay any claim 
to be in all essentials, was less liberal 
than ourselves on this great point of 
doctrine. Roswell Gardiner’s name now 
never passed her lips in prayer, there- 
fore, though scarce a minute went by 


SHA LIONS. 


R217 


without his manly person being present 
to her imagination. He still lived in her 
heart, a shrine from which she made no 
effort to expel him. 

As for the deacon, age, disease, and 
distress of mind had brought him to his 
last hours. The passions which had so 
engrossed him when in health, now turn- 
ed upon his nature, and preyed upon his 
vitals, like an ill-omened bird. Itis more 
than probable that he would have lived 
some months, possibly some years longer, 
had not the evil spirit of covetousness con- 
spired to heighten the malady that wasted 
his physical frame. As it was, the sands 
of life were running low; and the skillful 
Doctor Sage, himself, had admitted to 
Mary the improbability that her uncle 
and protector could long survive. 

It is wonderful how the interest in a 
rich man suddenly revives among his 
relatives and possibly heirs, as his last 
hour draws near. Deacon Pratt was 
known to be wealthy in a small way ; 
was thought to possess his thirty or forty 
thousand dollars, which was regarded as 
wealth among the East-enders thirty years 
since ; and every human being in Old Suf- 
folk, whether of its overwhelming major- 
ity or of its more select and wiser minor- 
ity, who could by legal possibility claim 
any right to be remembered by the dying 
man, crowded around his bedside. At 
that moment Mary Pratt, who had so 
long nursed his diseases and mitigated 
his sufferings, was compelled to appear 
as a very insignificant and secondary per- 
son. Others who stood in the same de- 
gree of consanguinity to the dying man, 
and two, a brother and sister, who were 
even one degree closer, had their claims, 
and were by no means disposed to suffer 
them to be forgotten. 

Gladly would poor Mary have prayed 
by her uncle’s bedside ; but Parson Whit- 
tle had assumed this solemn duty, it being 
deemed proper that one who had so long 
filled the office of deacon should depart 
with a proper attention to the usages of 
his meeting. Some of the relatives who 
had lately appeared, and who were not 
so conversant with the state of things 
between the deacon and his divine, com- 


218 


plained among themselves that the latter 
made too many ill-timed allusions to the 
pecuniary wants of the congregation ; and 
that he had, in particular, almost as much 
as asked the deacon to make a legacy 
that would enable those who were to stay 
behind to paint the meeting-house, erect 
a new horse-shed, purchase some improved 
stoves, and reseat the body of the build- 
ing. These modest requests, it was whis- 
pered—for all passed in whispers then— 
would consume not less than a thousand 
dollars of the deacon’s hard earnings ; 
and the thing was mentioned as a wrong 
done him who was about to descend into 
the grave, where naught of earth could 
avail him in any way. 

Close was the siege that was laid to 
Deacon Pratt during the last week of his 
life. Many were the hints given of the 
necessity of his making a will, though the 
brother and sister, estimating their rights 
as the law established them, said but little 
on the subject, and that little was rather 
against the propriety of annoying a man, 
in their brother’s condition, with business 
of so perplexing a nature. The fact that 
these important personages set their faces 
against the scheme had due weight, and 
most of the relatives began to calculate 
the probable amount of their respective 
shares under the law of distribution as it 
stood in that day. This excellent and sur- 
passingly wise community of New York 
had not then reached the pass of exceed- 
ing liberality toward which it is now so 
rapidly tending. In that day, the debtor 
was not yet thought of as the creditor’s 
next heir, and that plausible and impracti- 
cable desire of a false philanthropy, which 
is termed the Homestead Exemption Law 
—impracticable as to anything like a just 
and equitable exemption of equal amount 
in all cases of indebtedness—was not yet 
dreamed of. New York was then a sound 
and healthful community; making its 
mistakes, doubtless, as men ever will err ; 
but the control of things had not yet 
passed into the hands of sheer political 
empirics, whose ignorance and quackery 
were stimulated by the lowest passion for 
majorities. Among other things that 
were then respected were wills ; but it was 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


not known toa single individualamong all 
those who thronged the dwelling of Dea-— 
con Pratt, that the dying man had ever 
mustered the self-command necessary to 
make such aninstrument. He was free to 
act, but did not choose to avail himself 
of his freedom. Had he survived a few 
years, he would have found himself in the 
enjoyment of a liberty so sublimated, that 
he could not lease, or rent a farm, or 
collect a common debt, without coming 
under the harrow of the tiller of the po- 
litical soil. 

The season had advanced to the early 
part of April, and that is usually a soft 
and balmy month on the seashore, though 
liable to considerable and sudden changes — 
of temperature. On the day on which we 
now desire to transfer the scene, the win- 
dows of the deacon’s bedroom were open, — 
and the soft south wind fanned his hollow — 
and pallid cheek. Death was near, though — 
the principle of life struggled hard with © 
the King of Terrors. It was now that 
that bewildered and Pharisaical faith 
which had so long held this professor of — 
religion in a bondage even more oppressive — 
than open and announced sins, most felt i 
the insufficiency of the creed in which he — 
had rather been speculating than trusting — 
all his life, to render the passing hour j 
composed and secure. There had always 
been too much of self in Deacon Pratt’s 
moral temperament to render his belief as — 
humble and devout as it should be. It 
availed him not a hair, now that he was a 
deacon, or that he had made long prayers 
in the market-places, where men could see 
him, or that he had done so much, as he 
was wont to proclaim, for example’s sake. — 
All had not sufficed to cleanse his heart of 
worldly-mindedness, and he now groped 
about him, in the darkness of a faith ob- 
scured, for the true light that was to 
illumine his path to another world. 

The doctor had ordered the room cleared 
of all but two or three of the dying man’s” 
nearest relatives. Among these last, 
however, was the gentle and tender- 
hearted Mary, who loved to be near her 
uncle in this his greatest need. She no 
longer thought of his covetousness, of his 
sriping usury, of his living so much for 


 — 
ye 
<< 


wk 
eb” 


self and so little for God. While hover- 
ing about the bed, a message reached her 
that Baiting Joe wished to see her in the 
passage that led to the bedroom. She 
went to this old fisherman and found him 
standing near a window that looked tow- 
ard the east, and which consequently 
faced the waters of Gardiner’s Bay. 

_ **There she is, Miss Mary,’’ said Joe, 
pointing out of the window, his whole face 
in a glow between joy and whisky. “It 
should be told to the deacon at once, that 
his last hours might be happier than some 
that he has passed lately. That’s she— 
though at first I did not know her.”’ 

_ Mary saw a vessel standing in toward 
Oyster Pond, and her familiarity with 
objects of that nature was such as to tell 
her at once that it was a schooner: but 
so completely had she given up the Sea 
Tion that it did not occur to her that this 
could be the long-missing craft. 

© At what are you pointing, Joe?’’ the 
wondering girl asked, with perfect inno- 
cence. 

' * At that craft—at the Sea Lion of 
Sterling, which has been so long set down 
AS missing, but which has turned up just 
as her owner is about to cast off from this 
“arth altogether.’’ 

_ Joe might have talked for an hour: he 
did chatter away for two or three min- 
utes, with his head and half his body out 


who sank into a chair to prevent falling 
‘on the floor. At length the dear girl 
commanded herself, and spoke. 

**You cannot possibly be certain, Joe,”’ 
she said; ‘‘that schooner does not look, 
to me, like the Sea Lion.”’ 

“Nor to me, in some things, while in 
other some she does. Her upper works 
‘seem strangely out of shape, and there’s 
precious little on em. But no other fore- 
taw-sail schooner ever comes in this-a- 
way, and | know of none likely to do it. 
Ay, by Jupiter, there goes the very blue 
peter I helped to make with my own 
hands, and it was agreed to set it as the 
deacon’s signal. There’s no mistake 
now !”’ 

Joe might have talked half an hour 
longer without any fear of interruption, 


| THE SEA LIONS. 


of the window, uninterrupted by Mary, - 


219 


for Mary had vanished to her own room, 
leaving him with his body and head still 
out of the window, making his strictures 
and conjectures for some time longer; 
while the person to whom he fancied he 
was speaking, was, in truth, on her knees, 
rendering thanks to God! An hour later 
all doubts were removed, the schooner 
coming in between Oyster Pond and 
Shelter Island, and making the best of 
her way to the well-known wharf. 

‘‘Isn’t it wonderful, Mary,’’ exclaimed 
the deacon in a hollow voice, it is true, 
but with an animation and force that did 
not appear to have any immediate con- 
nection with death—‘‘isn’t it wonderful 
that Gar’ner should come back, a’ter all! 
If he has only done his duty by me, this 
will’be the greatest ventur’ of my whole 
life; it will make the evening of my days 
comfortable. I hope I’ve always been 
grateful for blessings, and I’m sure I’m 
grateful, from the bottom of my heart, 
for this. Give me prosperity and I’m not 
apt to forgetit. They’ve been asking me 
to make a will, but I told ’em I was too 
poor to think of any such thing ; and, now 
my schooner has got back, I s’pose I shall 
get more hints of the samesort. Should 
anything happen to me, Mary, you can 
bring out the sealed paper I gave you 
to keep, and that must satisfy ’em all. 
You’ll remember it is addressed to Gar’- 
ner. There isn’t much in it, and it won’t 
be much thought of, I fancy ; but, such as 
itis, ’tis the last instrument I sign, unless 
I get better. To think of Gar’ner’s com- 
ing back, a’ter all! It has put new life 
in me, and I shall be about ag’in in a 
week if he has only not forgotten the key 
and the hidden treasure ! ”’ 

Mary Pratt’s heart had not been so 
light for many a*weary day, but it grieved 
her to be a witness of this lingering long- 
ing after the things of the world. She 
knew that not only her uncle’s days, but 
his very hours, were numbered ; and that 
notwithstanding this momentary flicker- 
ing of the lamp, in consequence of fresh 
oil being poured into it, the wick was 
nearly consumed, and that it must shortly 
go out, let Roswell’s success be what it 
might. The news of the sudden and un- 


220 WORKS 


looked-for return of a vessel so long be- 
ileved to be lost spread like wildfire over 
the whole Point, and greatly did it in- 
crease the interest of the relatives in the 
condition of the dying man. If he was a 
subject of great concern before, doubly 
did he become so now. A vessel freighted 
with furs would have caused much excite- 
ment of itself; but, by some means or 
other, the deacon’s great secret of the 
buried treasure had leaked out, most 
probably by means of some of his lamen- 
tations during his illness, and, though but 
imperfectly known, it added largely to the 
expectations connected with the unlooked- 
for return of the schooner. In short, it 
would not have been easy to devise a cir- 
cumstance that should serve to increase 
the liveliness of feeling that just then ‘pre- 
vailed on the subject of Deacon Pratt and 
his assets, than the arrival of the Sea 
Inon at that precise moment. 

And arrive she did, that tempest-tossed, 
crippled, ice-bound, and half-burned little 
craft, after roaming over an extent of 
ocean that would have made up half-a- 
dozen ordinary sea voyages. In was, in 
truth, the schooner so well known to the 
reader, that was now settling away her 
mainsail and jib, as she kept off, under 
her fore-topsail alone, toward the wharf, 
on which every human being who could, 
with any show of propriety, be there at 
such a moment, was now collected, in a 
curious and excited crowd. Altogether, 
including boys and females, there must 
have been not less than a hundred per- 


sons on that wharf; and among them: 


were most of the anxious relatives who 
were in attendance on the vessel’s owner, 
in his last hours. By a transition that 
was natural enough, perhaps, under the 
circumstances, they had “transferred their 
interest in the deacon to this schooner, 
which they looked upon as an inanimate 
portion of an investment that would soon 
have little that was animate about it. 
Baiting Joe was a sort of oracle, in 
such circumstances. He had passed his 
youth at sea, having often doubled the 
Horn, and was known to possess a very 
respectable amount of knowledge on the 
subject of vessels of all sorts and sizes, 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


rig and qualities. He was now consulted 
by all who could get near him, as a mat- 
ter of course, and his opinions were re- 
ceived as res adjudicata, as the lawyers 
have it. 

“That’s the boat,’’ said Joe, affecting 
to call the Sea Lion by a diminutive, as a 
proof of regard; ‘‘yes, that’s the craft, 
herself ; but she is wonderfully deep in 
the water! I never seed a schooner of 
her tonnage, come in from a v’y’ge, with 
her scuppers so near a-wash. Don’t you 
think, Jim, there must be suthin’ heavier 
than skins in her hold, to bring her down 
so low in the water ? ”’ 

Jim was another loafer, who lived by 
taking clams, oysters, fish, and the other 
treasures of the surrounding bays. He 
was by no means as high authority as 
Baiting Joe ; still he was always authority 
on a wharf. 

‘IT never seed the like on’t,’’ answered 
Jim. ‘‘That schooner must ha’ made 
most of her passage under water. She’s 
as deep as one of our coasters comin’ in 
with a load of brick ! ’’ 

‘‘She’s deep; but not as deep as a 
craft I once made a cruise in. I was 
aboard of the first of Uncle Sam’s gun- 
boats that crossed the pond to Gibraltar. 
When we got in, it made the Mediter- 
ranean stare, I can tell you! We had 
furrin officers aboard us, the whull time, 
lookin’ about, and wonderin’, as they 
called it, if we wasn’t amphibbies.”’ | 

‘“What’s that ?’’ demanded Jim, rather 
hastily. ‘*There’s no sich rope in the. 
ship.’’ 4 

“T know that well enough; but an 
amphibby, as I understand it, is a new 
sort of whale, that comes up to breathe, 
like all of that family, as old Dr. Mitchell, 
of Cow Neck, calls the critturs. So the 
furrin officers thought we must be of the 
amphibby family, to live so much under 
water, as it seemed to them. It was wet 
work, I can tell you, boys; I don’t think 
I got a good breath more than once an 
hour, the whull of the first day we was 
out. One of the furrin officers asked our 
captain how the gunboat steered. H 
wasn’t a captain at all—only a master, 
you see, and we all called him Jumpin’ 


_ furs enough to bring a craft so low! 


Billy. So Jumpin’ Billy says, ‘Don’t 
_ know, sir.’ 
in her, and don’t know how your craft 
steers !’ says the furrin officer, says he— 
and well he might, Jim, since nothin’ that 
ever lived could go from Norfolk to Gib- 
‘ralter without some attention to the helm 
_--but Jumpin’ Billy had another story to 

tell. 
 *You see, sir, a nor-wester took us right 
aft, as we cleared the capes, and down she 


‘What! crossed the Atlantic 


‘No, sir ; don’t know,’ he answered. 


dove, with her nose under and her starn 


out, and she came across without having 
a chance to try the rudder. 
- This story, which Joe had told at least 
-a hundred times before, and which, by 
the way, is said to be true, produced the 
usual admiration, especially among the 


222 


crowd of legatees-expectant, to most of 
whom it was quite new. When the laugh 


went out, which it soon did of itself, Joe 
pursued a subject that was of more 
interest to most of his auditors, 
rather to the principal personages among 
them. 


or 


‘Skins never brought a craft so low, 


that you may be sartin of !’’ he resumed. 


‘‘T’ve seed all sorts of vessels stowed, but 
a hundred press-screws couldn’t cram in 
To 


my eye, Jim, there’s suthin’ unnat’ral 


about that schooner, a’ter all.’ 

The study is scarce worthy ofa diploma, 
but we will take this occasion to say, for 
the benefit of certain foreign writers, 
principally of the female sex, who fancy 


they represent Americanisms, that the 


Se i — ai a 


gar, according to the laws of Cockayne, 


the Sea Lion, a’ ter all. 
look about all the craft some men build, 


. 
; 
: 


vulgar of the great republic, and it is ad- 
mitted there are enough of the class, 
never say “‘summat” or ‘‘ somethink,”’ 
which are low English, but not low 
American, dialect. The in-and-in Yan- 
kee says “‘suth-in.’”’ In a hundred other 
words have these ambitious ladies done 
injustice to our vulgar, who are not vul- 


in the smallest degree. ‘“‘ The Broad- 
way,’ for instance, is no more used by an 
American than “‘ the Congress,” or “‘ the 


— United States of North America.”’ 


answered Jim, “ ’tisn’t 
There’s a family 


««Perhaps,”’ 


THE SHA LIONS. 


221 


and this may be a sort of relation of our 
missin’ schooner.’ 

‘‘T’ll not answer for the craft, though 
that’s her blue peter and them’s her mast- 
heads, and I turned in that taw-sail hal- 
yard-block with my own hands. [ll tell 
you what, Jim, there’s been a wrack, ora 
nip, up yonder, among the ice, and this 
schooner has been built anew out of that 
there schooner. You see if itdon’t turn 
out as I tell you. Ay, and there’s Cap- 
tain Gar’ner himself, alive and well, just 
comin’ forrard.’’ 

A little girl started with this news, and 
was soon pouring it into the willing ears 
and open heart of the weeping and grate- 
ful Mary. Anhour later, Roswell held the 
latter in his arms; for at such a moment 
it was not possible for the most scrupulous 
of the sex to affect coldness and reserve, 
where there was so much real tenderness 
and love. While folding Mary to his 
heart, Roswell whispered in her ears the 
blessed words that announced his own 
humble submission to the faith which 
accepted Christ as the Son of God. Too 
well did the gentle and ingenuous girl 
understand the sincerity and frankness of 
her lover’s nature to doubt what he said, 
or in any manner to distrust the motive. 
That moment was the happiest of her 
short and innocent life ! 

But the welcome tidings had reached 
the deacon, and ere Roswell had an oppor- 
tunity of making any other explanations 
but those which assured Mary that he had 
come back all that she wished him to be, 
both of them were summoned to the bed- 
side of the dying man. The effect of the 
excitement on the deacon was so very 
great as almost to persuade the expectant 
legatees that their visit was premature, 
and that they might return home, to re- 
new it at some future day. It is painful 
to find it our duty to draw sketches that 
shall contain such pictures of human 
nature; but with what justice could we 
represent the loathsome likeness of covet- 
ousness, hovering over a grave, and omit 
the resemblances of those who surrounded 
it? Mary Pratt, alone, of all that exten- 
sive family connection, felt and thought 
as Christianity, and womanly affection, 


R22 


and reason, dictated. All the rest saw 
nothing but the possessor of a considerable 
property, who was about to depart for 
that unknown world, into which nothing 
could be taken from this, but the divine 
and abused spirit which had been fashioned 
in the likeness of God. 

“Welcome, Gar’ner—welcome home, 
ag’in !’’ exclaimed the deacon, so heartily 
as quite to deceive the young man as to 
the real condition of his owner; a mistake 
that was, perhaps, a little unfortunate, as 
it induced him to be more frank than might 
otherwise have been the case. ‘I couldn’t 
find it in my heart to give you up, and 
have all along believed that we should 
yet have good news from you. The Gar’- 
ners are a reliable family, and that was 
one reason why I chose you to command 
my schooner. Them Daggetts are a tor- 
ment, but we never should have known 
anything about the islands, or the key, 
hadn’t it been for one on ’em.”’ 

As the deacon stopped for breath, Mary 
turned away from the bed, grieved at 
heart to see the longings of the world thus 
clinging to the spirit of one who probably 
had not another hour to live. The glazed 
but animated eye, a cheek which resembled 
a faded leaf of the maple laid on a cold and 
whitish stone, and lips that had already 
begun to recede from the teeth, made 
asad, sad picture, truly, to look upon at 
such a moment; yet, of all present, Mary 
Pratt alone felt the fullness of the incon- 
gruity, and alone bethought her of the un- 
reasonableness of encouraging feelings like 
those which were now uppermost in the 
deacon’s breast. Even Minister Whittle 
had a curiosity to know how much was 
added to the sum total of Deacon Pratt’s 
assets by the return of a craft that had so 
long been set down among the missing. 
When all eyes, therefore, were turned in 
curiosity on the handsome face of the 
fine manly youth who now stood at the 
bedside of the deacon, including those of 
brother and sister, of nephews and nieces, 
of cousins and friends, those of this ser- 
vant of the most high God were of the 
number, and not the least expressive of so- 
licitude and expectation.» As soon as the 
deacon had caught a little breath, and had 


WORKS OF FENIMORE OOOPER. 


swallowed a restorative that the hired | . 
nurse had handed to .him, his eager 
thoughts reverted to the one tancinandiine 
theme of his whole life. 

“These are all friends, Gar’ner,”’ he © 
said ; ‘‘ come to visit me in a little sickness — 
that I’ve been somewhat subject to of late, — 
and who willall be glad to hear of our good — 
fortune. So you’ve brought the schooner — 
back, a’ter all, Gar’ner, and will disap-_ 
pint the Sag Harbor shipowners, who — 
have been all along foretelling that we 
Should never see her ag’in :—brought her 
back—ha! Gar’ner?”’ | 

‘Only in part, Deacon Pratt. We have 
had good luck.and bad luck since we left 


‘you, and have only brought home the best — 


part of the craft.’’ 

‘“‘The best part!’’ said the (psiay 
gulping his words in a way that compelled — 
him to pause; ‘‘ the best part! What, in — 
the name of property, has become of the 
rest ?”’ | 

‘The rest was burned, sir, to keep us — 
from freezing to death.’? Roswell then — 
gave a brief but very clear and intelligible — 
account of what had happened, and of the | 
manner in which he had caused the hulk — 
of the deacon’s Sea Lion to be raised upon 
by the materials furnished by the Sea Lion — 
of the Vineyard. The narrative brought — 
Mary Pratt back to the side of the bed, 
and caused her calm eyes to become rivet- — 
ed intently on the speaker’s face. As for 
the deacon, he might have said, with | 
Shakespeare’s Wolsey : : 

‘““Had I but served my God with half the zeal 


I served my king, he would not, in mine age, 
Have left me naked to mine enemies.” 


His fall was not that of a loss of power, 
it is true, but it was that of a still more — 
ignoble passion—covetousness. As Ros- — 
well proceeded, his mind represented one 
source of wealth after another released 
from his clutch, until it was with a tremu- 
lous voice, and a countenance from which | 
all traces of animation had fled, that he 
ventured again to speak. } 

“Then I may look upon my ventur’ as_ 
worse than nothing?’ he said. <“‘ The 
insurers will raise a question about paying 
for a craft that has been rebuilt in this’ 
way, and the Vineyard folks will be sar- 


tain to put ina claim of salvage, both on 
account of two of their hands helping you 
with the work, and on account of the 
materials—and we with no cargo, as an 
offset to it all!” 
 **No, deacon, ‘it is not quite so bad 
‘as that,’? resumed Roswell. ‘‘ We have 
brought home a good lot of skins; enough 
to pay the people full wages, and to return 
you every cent of outfit, with a handsome 
advance on the venture. A sealer usually 
makes a good business of it, if she falls in 
with seals. Our cargo in skins can’t be 
worth less than $20,000; besides half a 
freight left on the island, for which an- 
other craft may be sent.”’ 
«That is suthin’, the Lord be praised ! ”’ 
ejaculated the deacon. ‘‘Though the 
schooner is as bad as gone, and the out- 
lays have been awfully heavy ; ’malmost 
afraid to go any further. Gar’ner—did 
you—l grow weak very fast—did you stop 
—Mary, I wish you would put the ques- 
tion.”’ 
Jam afraid that my uncle means to 
ask if you stopped at the key, in the West 
Indies, according to your instructions, 
Roswell? ’’ the niece said, and most re- 
luctantly ; for she plainly saw it was fully 
time her uncle ceased to think of the 
things of this life, and to begin to turn 
all his thoughts on the blessed mediation, 
and another state of being. 
“‘T forgot no part of your orders, sir,”’ 
rejoined Roswell. “It was my duty to 
obey them, and I believe I have done so 
to the letter 27 
Stop, Gar’ner,’’ interrupted the dying 
man—‘“‘ one question, while I think of it. 
Will the Vineyard men have any claim of 
salvage on account of them skins? ”’ 
<“*Certainly not, sir. These skins are 
all our own—were taken, cured, stowed, 
and brought home altogether by ourselves. 
There is a lot of skins belonging to the 
Vineyarders stowed away in the house, 
which is yours, deacon, and which it would 
well pay any small craft to go and bring 
away. If anybody is to claim salvage, it 
will be ourselves. No salvage was de- 
-manded for the loss off Cape Henlopen, I 
trust?’ 
‘No, none—Daggett behaved what I 


THE SHA LIONS. . 


eee 


223 


call liberal in that affair,’’—half the 
critics of the day would use the adjective 
instead of the adverb here, and why should 
Deacon Pratt’s English be any better than 
his neighbors ?—‘‘ and so I have admitted 
to his friends over on the Vineyard. But, 
Gar’ner, our great affair still remains to 
be accounted for. Do you wish to have © 
the room cleared before you speak of 
that—shall we turn the key on all these 
folks, and then settle accounts ?—he !-he! 
he !’’ 

The deacon’s facetiousness sounded 
strangely out of place to Roswell; still, 
he did not exactly know how to gainsay 
his wishes. There might be an indiscre- 
tion in pursuing his narrative before so 
many witnesses, and the young man 
paused until the room was cleared, leav- 
ing no one in it but the sick man, Mary, 
himself, and the nurse. The last could 
not well be gotten rid of on Oyster Pond, 
where her office gave her an assumed 
right to know all family secrets; or, what 
was the same thing to her, to fancy that 
she knew them. Among all the sayings 
which the experience of mankind has re- 
duced to axioms, there is not one more 
just than that which says, ‘‘ There are 
secrets in all families.”? These secrets 
the world commonly affects to know all 
about; but we think few will have reached 
the age of threescore without becoming 
convinced of how much pretending igno- 
rance there is in this assumption of the 
world. ‘Tot ou tard tout se scat,’’ is 
a significant saying of our old friends, the 
French, who know as much of things in 
practice as any other people on the face 
of the earth; ‘‘tot ow tard tout ne se 
scatt pas.”’ 

‘“‘Ts the door shut ?’”’ asked the deacon, 
tremulously, for eagerness united to de- 
bility was sadly skaking his whole frame. 
‘‘See that the door is shut tight, Mary ; 
this is our own secret, and nurse must re- 
member that.”’ 

Mary assured him that they were alone, 
and turned away in sorrow from the bed. 

‘‘Now, Gar’ner,’’ resumed the deacon, 
‘* open your whole heart, and let us know 
all about it.”’ 

Roswell hesitated to reply ; for he, too, 


224 WORKS 


was shocked at witnessing this instance of 


OF FENIMORE 


COOPER. 3 


‘ 


doubloons, it is true, and I dare say well - 


a soul’s clinging to mammon when on the ] worth their sixteen dollars each. Sf 


very eve of departing for the unknown 
world. There was a look in the glazed 
and sunken eyes of the old man that re- 
minded him unpleasantly of that snapping 
of the eyes which he had so often seen in 
Daggett. 

*“You didn’t forget the key, surely, 
Gar’ner ?’’ asked the deacon, anxiously. 

‘“No, sir; we did our whole duty sth 
that part of the voyage.”’ 

‘‘Did you find it—was the place accu- 
rately described ? ”’ 

‘No chart could have made it better. 
We lost a month in looking for the 'princi- 
pal landmark, which had been altered by 
the weather; but that once found, the 
rest was easy. The difficulty we met with 
in starting has brought us home so late in 
the spring.’’ 

‘* Never mind the spring, Gar’ner; the 
part that is past is sartin to come 
round ag’in, in due time. And so you 
found the very key that was described 
by Daggett? ”’ 

“We did, sir; and just where he de- 
scribed it to be.’’ 

‘‘And how about the tree, and the little 
hillock of sand at its foot ? ”’ 

‘* Both were there, deacon. The hillock 
must have grown a good deal, by reason 
of the shifting sand; but, all things con- 
sidered, the place was well enough de- 
scribed. 

«© Well well—well—you opened the hil- 
lock, of course ? ”’ 

‘* We did, sir; and found the box men- 
tioned by the pirate.’’ 

“A good large box, T’ll warrant ye! 
Them pirates seldom do things by halves 
—he! he! he! ”’ 

‘“T can’t say much for the size of the 
box, deacon—it looked to me as if it had 
once held window-glass, and that of rather 
small dimensions.”’ 

‘* But, the contents—you do not men- 
tion the contents.’’ 

“They are here, sir,’”? taking a small 
bag from his pocket, and laying it on the 
bed, by the deacon’s side. ‘The pieces 
are all of gold, and there are just one hun- 
dred and forty-three of them.—Heavy 


| cipitancy that is usually practiced. 


The deacon gave a gulp, as if gasping 
for breath, at the same time that he 
clutched the bag. The next instant he 
was dead; and there is much reason to 
believe that the demons who had watched 
him, and encouraged him in his besetting 
sin, laughed at the consummation of their 
malignant arts! If angels in heaven did 
not mourn at this characteristic depart- 
ure of a frail spirit from its earthly tene- 
ment, one who had many of their quali- 
ties did. Heavy had been the load on 
Mary Pratt’s heart, at the previous dis- 
play of her uncle’s weakness, and profound 
was now her grief at his having made such 
an end. | 


—— ee 


CHAPTER XXX. 


‘4th Cit.—We’ll hear the will: Read it, Mark 


Antony. . 
Cit.—The will, the will; we will hear Cesar’s 
will. 
Ant.—Have patience, gentle friends, I must not 
read it; 


It is not meet you know how César loved you.” 
—JULIUS C_ASAR. 


THERE is usually great haste, in this — 
country, in getting rid of the dead. In 
no other part of the world, with which we | 
are acquainted, are funerals so simple, or 
so touching; placing the judgment and — 
sins which lead to it, in a far more con- — 
spicuous light than rank, or riches, or 
personal merits. Scarfs and gloves are 
given in town, and gloves in the country, 
though scarfs are rare; but, beyond these, 
and the pall, and the hearse, and the 
weeping friends, an American funeral is a _ 
very unpretending procession of persons — 
in their best attire; on foot when the © 
distance is short; in carriages, in wag- — 
ons, and on horseback, when the grave — 
is far from the dwelling. There is, how- — 
ever, one feature connected with a death — 
in this country, that we could gladly see — 
altered. It is the almost indecent haste, — 
which so generally prevails, to get rid of © 
the dead. Doubtless the climate has had 
an effect in establishing this custom ; but 
the climate, in no means, exacts the pre-— 


See 
m 2 . 


THE SEA LIONS. 


As there were so many friends from a_ 


distance present, some of whom took the 
control of affairs, Mary shrinking back 
into herself, with a timidity natural to 
her sex and years, the moment her care 
could no longer serve her uncle, the 
funeral of the deacon took place the day 
after that of his death. It was the 


_. solemn and simple ceremony of the coun- 


try. The Rev. Mr. Whittle conceived 
that he ought to preach a sermon on the 
occasion of the extinguishment of this 
“bright and shining light,’’ and the body 
was carried to the meeting-house, where 
the whole congregation assembled, it be- 
ing the Sabbath. We cannot say much 
for the discourse, which had already 
served as eulogiums on two or three 
other deacons, with a simple substitution 
of names. In few things are the credu- 
lous more imposed on than in this article 
of sermons. A clergyman shall preach 
the workings of other men’s brains for 
years, and not one of his hearers detect 
the imposition, purely on account of the 
confiding credit it is customary to yield to 
the pulpit. In this respect, preaching: is 
very much like reviewing—the listener, or 
the reader, being too complaisant too see 
through the great standing mystifications 
of either. Yet preaching is a work of 
high importance to men, and one that 
doubtless accomplishes great good, more 
especially when the life of the preacher 
corresponds with his doctrine; and even 
reviewing, though infinitely of less mo- 
ment, might be made a very useful art, in 
the hands of upright, independent, intelli- 
gent, and learned men. But nothing in 
this world is as it should be, and cen- 
turies will probably roll over it.ere the 
** good time ’’ shall really come ! 

The day of the funeral being the Sab- 
bath, nothing that touched on business 
was referred to. On the following morn- 
ing, however, “the friends’’ assembled 
early in the parlor, and an excuse for 
being a little pressing was made, on the 
ground that so many present had so far 
to go. The deacon had probably made a 
remove much more distant than any that 
awaited his relatives. 

“It is right to look a little into the 

IV.—8s 


225 


deacon’s matters before we separate,”’ 
said Mr. Job Pratt, who, if he had the 
name, had not the patience of him of old, 
‘‘in order to save trouble and hard feel- 
ings. Among relatives and friends there 
should be nothing but confidence and 
affection, and Iam sure I have no other 
sentiments toward any here. I suppose’’ 
—all Mr. Job Pratt knew, was ever ona 
supposition—‘‘ I suppose Iam the proper 
person to administer to the deacon’s prop- 
erty, though I don’t wish to do it, if there’s 
the least objection.”’ 

Every one assented that he was the 
most proper person, for all knew he was 
the individual the surrogate would be the 
most likely to appoint. 

‘*T have never set down the deacon’s 
property as anything like what common 
report makes it,’”? resumed Mr. Job Pratt ; 
‘‘though 1 do suppose it will fully reach 
ten thousand dollars.’’ 

‘La!’ exclaimed a female cousin, and 
a widow, who had expectations of her 
own, ‘‘I’d always thought Deacon Pratt 
worth forty or fifty thousand dollars! 
Ten thousand dollars won’t make much 
for each for us, divided up among so 
many folks! ”’ 

‘* The division will not be so very great, 
Mrs. Martin,’’ returned Mr. Job, “as it 
will be confined to the next of kin and 
their representatives. Unless a_ will 
should be found—and, by all I can learn, 
there is none’’—emphasizing the last 
word with point—‘“‘ unless a will be found, 
the whole estate, real and personal, must 
be divided into just five shares, which, © 
accordin’ to my calculation, would make 
about two thousand dollars a share. No 
great fortin’, to be sure, though a com- 
fortable addition to small means. The 
deacon was cluss (Anglicé, close); yes, he 
was cluss—all the Pratts are a little given 
to be cluss; but I don’t know that they 
are any the worse for it. It is well to be 
curful (careful) of one’s means, which are 
a trust given to us by Divine Providence.’’ 

In this manner did Mr. Job Pratt often 
quiet his conscience for being as “ curful ”’ 
of his own as of other person’s assets. 
Divine Providence, according to his mor- 
ality, made it as much a duty to transfer 


226 WORKS OF 
the dollar that was in his neighbor’s 
pocket to his own, as to watch it vigi- 
lantly after the transposition had been 
effected. 

‘A body should be curful, as you say, 
sir,’’ returned the Widow Martin; ‘‘and 
for that reason I should like to know if 
there isn’t a will. I know the deacon set 
store by me, and I can hardly think he 
has departed for another world without 
bethinking him of his cousin Jenny, and 
of her widowhood.”’ 

“*1’m afraid he has, Mrs. Martin—real- 
ly afraid he has. I can hear of no will. 
The doctor says he doubts if the deacon 
could ever muster courage to write any- 
thing about his own death, and that he 
has never heard of any will. ITunderstand 
Mary that she has no knowledge of any 
will, and I do not know where else to turn 
in order to inquire. Rev. Mr. Whittle 
thinks there zs a will, | ought to say.”’ 

“There must be a will,’’ returned the 
parson, who was on the ground again 
early, ahd on this very errand; ‘‘I feel 
certain of that from the many conversa- 
tions I have held with the deceased. It is 
not a month since I spoke to him of divers 
repairs that were necessary to each and 
all of the parish buildings, including the 
parsonage. He agreed to every word I 
said—admitted that we could not get on 
another winter without a new horse-shed ; 
and that the east end of the parsonage 
ought to be shingled this coming sum- 
mer.”’ 

*‘ All of which may be very true, par- 
son, without the deacon’s making a will,”’ 
quietly, and we may now add patiently, 
observed Mr. Job. 

“‘] don’t think so,’’ returned the minis- 
ter, with a warmth that might have been 
deemed indiscreet, did it not relate to the 
horse-shed, the parsonage, and the meet- 
ing-house, all of which were public proper- 
ty, rather than to anything in which he 
hac a more direct legal interest. “A 
pious member of the church would hardly 
hold out the hopes that Deacon Pratt has 
held out to me for more than two years, 
without meaning to make his words good 
in the end. I think all will agree with me 
in that opinion.”’ 


FENIMORE COOPER. 


‘* Did the deacon, then, go so far as to 
promise to do anything ? ’’ asked Mr. Job, 
a little timidly, for he was by no means 
sure the answer might not be in the affirm- 
ative, in which case he anticipated the 
worst. 

‘“Perhaps not,’’ answered Minister 
Whittle, too conscientious to tell a down- 
right lie, though sorely tempted so to do. 
‘‘But a man may promise indirectly as 
well as directly. When I have a thing 
much at heart, and converse often about 
it with a person who can grant all I wish, 
and that person listens as attentively as I 
could wish him to do, I regard that as a 
promise, and, in church matters, one of 
a very solemn nature.’’ 

All the Jesuits in the world do not get 
their educations at Rome, or acknowledge — 
Ignatius Loyola as the great founder of 
their order. Some are to be found who 
have never made a public profession of 
their faith and zeal, have never assumed 
the tonsure, or taken the vows. 

“'That’s as folks think,’’ quietly re- 
turned Mr. Job Pratt, though he smiled 
in a manner so significant as to cause Mrs. 
Martin a new qualm, as she grew more 
and more apprehensive that the property 
was, after all, to go by the distribution 
law. ‘‘Some folks think a promise ought 
to be expressed, while others think it 
may be understood. The law, I believe, 
commonly looks for the direct expression 
of any binding promise; and, in matters 
of this sort, one made in writing, too, 
and that under a seal, and before three 
responsible witnesses.’’ 

‘*] wish a full inquiry might be made, 
to ascertain if there be no will,” put in 
the minister, anxiously. 

“V’m quite willing so to do,” returned 
Mr. Job, whose confidence and moral 
courage increased each instant. ‘‘ Quite 
willing ; and am rather anxious for it, if 
I could only see where to go to inquire.”’ 

** Does no one present know of any will 
made by the deceased ?’’? demanded Minis- 
ter Whittle, authoritatively. 

A dead silence succeeded to the question. 
Kye met eye, and there was great dis- 
appointment among the numerous collat- 
erals present, including all those who did — 


ae 4 


_ ing, to give it to him.” 


relative directly,’? he added. 


THE SEA LIONS. 227 


not come in as next of kin, or as their di- 


rect representatives. But the Rev. Mr. 
Whittle had been too long and too keenly 
on the scent of a legacy, to be thrown out 
of the hunt, just as he believed the game 
was coming in sight. 

“It might be well to question each near 
“Mr. . Job 
Pratt, do you know nothing of any will ? ”’ 

** Nothing whatever. At one time I did 
think the deacon meant to make his testa- 
ment; but I conclude that he must have 
changed his mind.”’ 

*“And you, Mrs. Thomas,’’ turning to 
the sister—‘‘as next of kin, I make the 
same inquiry of you? ’”’ 

**T once talked with brother about it,’’ 
answered this relative, who was wor'’ting 
away in a rocking-chair as if she thought 


the earth might stop in its orbit, if she her- 


self ceased to keep in motion; “* but he 
gave me no Satisfactory answer—that is, 
nothin’ that I call satisfactory. Had he 
told me he had made a will, and given me 
a full shear (share), I should have been 
content; or had he told me that he had 
not made a will, and that the law would 
give me a*full shear, I should have been 
content. I look upon myself as a person 
easily satisfied.’’ 

This was being explicit, and left little 
more to be obtained from the deacon’s be- 
loved and only surviving sister. 

‘‘“And you, Mary; do you know any- 
thing of a will made by your uncle ? ”’ 

Mary shook her head ; but there was no 
smile on her features, for the scene was 
‘unpleasant to her. 

‘Then no one present knows of any 
paper that the deacon left specially to be 
opened after his death ?’’ demanded Rev. 
Mr. Whittle, putting the general question 


pretty much at random. 


‘““A paper!’ cried Mary, hastily. 
“Yes, I know something of a paper—I 
thought you spoke of a will.”’ 

A willis commonly written on paper, 
nowadays, Miss Mary—but, you have a 
paper ?”’ 

“Uncle gave mea paper, and told me 


_ to keep it till Roswell Gardiner came back ; 


and, if he himself should not then be liv- 
The color now 


mounted to the very temples of the pretty 
girl, and she seemed to speak with greater 
deliberation and care. ‘‘ As I was to give 
the paper to Roswell, I have always 
thought it related to him. My uncle 
spoke of it to me as lately as the day of 
his death.”’ 

‘*That’s the will, beyond a doubt!’ 
cried Rev. Mr. Whittle, with more exulta- 
tion than became his profession and pro- 
fessions. ‘* Do you not think this may be 
Deacon Pratt’s will, Miss Mary? ”’ 

Now Mary had never thought any such 
thing. She knew that her uncle much 
wished her to marry Roswell, and had all 
along fancied that che paper she held, 
which indeed was contained in an envelope 
addressed to her lover, contained some 
expression of his wishes on this to her the 
most interesting of all subjects, and noth- 
ing else. Mary Pratt thought very little 
of her uncle’s property, and still less of 
its future disposition, while she thought a 
great deal of Roswell Gardiner and' of his 
suit. It was, consequently, the. most 
natural thing in the world that she should 
have fallen into some such error as this. 
But, now that the subject was brought to 
her mind in this new light, she arose, went 
to her own room, and soon reappeared 
with the paper in her hand. Both Mr. 
Job Pratt and Rev. Mr. Whittle offered 
to relieve her of the burden; and the 
former, by a pretty decided movement, 
did actually succeed in getting possession 
of the documents. The papers were done 
up in the form of a large business letter, 
which was duly sealed with wax, and ad-’ 
dressed to ‘‘ Mr. Roswell Gardiner, Master 
of the Schooner Sea Lion, now absent on 
a voyage.” The superscription was read 
aloud, a little under the influence of sur- 
prise; notwithstanding which, Mr. Job 
Pratt was very coolly proceeding to open 
the packet, precisely as if it had been 
addressed to himself. In this decided step, 
Mrs. Martin, and Mrs. Thomas, and Rev. 
Mr. Whittle, might be set down as acces- 
sories before the act ; for each approached ; 
and so eager were the two women that 
they actually assisted in breaking the seal. 

‘“‘If that letter is addressed to me,”’ 
said Roswell Gardiner, with firmness and 


228 WORKS 
authority, ‘‘ I claim the right to open it 
myself. It is unusual for those to whom 
a letter is not addressed to assume this 
office.’’ 

‘But, it comes from Deacon Pratt,”’ 
cried the Widow Martin, ‘“‘and may con- 
tain his will.’’ 

“In which case, a body would think I 
have some rights concerned,’’ said Mr. 
Job Pratt, a little more coolly, but with 
manifest doubts. 

‘‘Sartain !’’? putin Mrs. Thomas. ‘‘ Bro- 
thers and sisters, and even cousins, come 
before strangers, any day. Here we are, 
a brother and sister of the deacon, and we 
ought to havea right to read his letters.’’ 

All this time Roswell had stood with 
an extended arm, and an eye that caused 
Mr. Job Pratt to control his impatience. 
Mary advanced close to his side, as if to 
sustain him, but she said nothing. 

‘‘There is a law, with severe penalties, 
against knowingly opening a letter ad- 
dressed to another,’’ resumed Roswell 
steadily ; ‘‘and it shall be enforced against 
any one who shall presume to open one of 
mine. If that letter has my address, sir, 
Tdemand it; and I will have it, at every 
hazard.”’ 

Roswell advanced a step nearer Mr. 
Job Pratt, and the letter was reluctantly 
yielded; though not until the Widow 
Martin had made a nervous but abortive 
snatch at it. 

“‘ At any rate, it ought to be opened in 
our presence,’’ put in this woman, “ that 
we may see what is in it.”’ 

“¢ And by what right, ma’am? Have I 
not the privilege of others, to read my 
own letters when and where I please? If 
the contents of this, however, do really 
relate to the late Deacon Pratt’s property, 
I am quite willing they should be made 
known. There is nothing on this super- 
scription to tell me to open the packet in 
the presence of witnesses ; but, under all 
the circumstances, I prefer it should be 
done.”’ 

Hereupon Roswell proceeded deliberate- 
ly to look into the package. The seal was 
already broken, and he exhibited it in that 
state to all in the room, with a meaning 
smile, after which he brought to light and 


OF FHNIMORE COOPER. 


opened some written instrument, that was 
engrossed on a single sheet of foolscap, 
and had the names of several witnesses at 
its bottom. 

‘‘ Ay, ay, that’s it,’’ said Baiting Joe, 
for the room was crowded with all sorts 
of people; ‘‘that’s the dockerment. I 
know’d it as soon as I laid eyes on it!” 

“And what do you know about it, 
Josy?’’ demanded the widow, eagely. 
‘“Cousin Job, this man may turn out a 
most important and considerable wit- 
ness !°’ 

“What do I know, Mrs. Martin ? Why, 
I seed the deacon sign for the seals, and 
execute. As soon as I heard Squire Craft, 
who was down here from Riverhead on 
that ’ere very business, talk so much . 
abou’ seals, | know’d Captain Gar’ner 
must have suthin’ to do with the matter. 
The deacon’s very heart was in the 
schooner and her v’y’ge, and I think it 
was the craft that finished him, in the 
end.’’ 

‘“Won’t that set aside a codicil, cousin 
Job, if so be the deacon has r’ally codi- 
ciled off Captain Gar’ner and Mary ?”’ 

*«“We shall see, we shall see. So you 
was present, Josy, at the making of a 
will ? ”’ 

‘‘Sartin—and was a witness to the in- 
sterment, as the squire called it. I s’pose 
he sent for me to be a witness as I am 
some acquainted with the sealin’ business, 
having made two v’y’ges out of Stunnin’- 
tun, many years since. Ay, ay; that’s 
the insterment, and pretty well frightened 
was the deacon when he put his name to 
it, I can tell you !”’ 

‘Frightened !’’? echoed the brother— 
‘‘that’s ag’in law, at any rate. The in- 
strument that a man signs because he’s 
frightened is no instrument at all, in law, 
As respects a will, it is what we justices 
of the peace call ‘dies non,’ or don’t die: 
that is, in law.’’ 

‘Can that be so, Squire Job?’’ asked 
the sister, who had said but little hitherto, 
but had thought all the more. 

“Yes, that’s Latin, I s’pose, and good — 
Latin, too, they tell me. A man may be — 
dead in the flesh, but living in law.”’ | 

‘“La! how cur’ous.} Law is a wonder- 


| ful thing, to them that understands 
e it.? 
The worthy Mrs. Thomas expressed a 
- much more profound sentiment than that 
; of which she was probably aware herself. 
Law és a wonderful thing, and most won- 
 derful is he who can tell what it is to-day, 
or is likely to be to-morrow. The law of 
- testamentary devises, in particular, has 
more than the usual uncertainty, the great 
. interest that is taken by the community 
in the large estates of certain individuals 
- who are placed without the ordinary social 
categories by the magnitude of their fort- 
- unes, preventing anything from becoming 
_ absolutely settled, as respects them. In 
r Turkey, and in America, the possession 
of great wealth is very apt to ruin their 
; possessors ; proscription, in some form or 
. other, being pretty certain to be the con- 
sequences. In Turkey, such has long and 
| openly been the fact, the bow-string usu- 
_ ally lying at the side of the strong box; 
but, in this country, the system is in its 
} infancy, though advancing toward matur- 
ity with giant strides. Twenty years 
more, resembling the twenty that are just 
past, in which the seed recently sown 
_ broadcast shall have time to reach ma- 
- turity, and, in our poor opinion, the great 
_ work of demoralization, in this important 
particular, will be achieved. We are 
much afraid that the boasted progress, of 
_ which we hear so much, will resemble the 
act of the man who fancied he could teach 
_ his horse to live without food—just as he 
believed the poor beast was perfect, it 
died of inanition ! 
Roswell read Baiting Joe’s ‘“‘inster- 
ment” twice, and then he placed it, with 
_ manly tenderness, in the hands of Mary. 

The girl read the document, too, tears 
starting to her eyes; but a bright flush 
suffused her face, as she returned the will 
- to her lover. 

** Ah! do not read it now, Roswell,’’ she 
said, in anundcertone ; but the stillness and 
expectation were so profound, that every 
syllable she uttered was heard by allin the 
_ room. 

‘And why not read it now, Miss Mary !”’ 
cried the Widow Martin. ‘‘ Methinks now 
is the proper time to-read it. If ’mto be 


. eee 


Sie ees See, 


Pa >, 
Ce 9 
y (eg as 


THE SEA LIONS. 229 


codiciled out of that will, I want to know 
it.”’ | 

“It is better, in every respect, that the 
company present should know all that is 
to be known, at once,’’ observed Mr. Job 
Pratt. ‘‘ Before the will is read, if that be 
the will, Captain Gar’ner——’’ 

‘‘ Jt is the will of the late Deacon Pratt, 
duly signed, sealed, and witnessed, I be- 
lieve, sir.’’ 

‘¢One word more, then, before it is read. 
I think you said, Josy, that the deceased 
was frightened when he signed that. will ? 
I do not express any opinions until I hear 
the will; perhaps a’ter it is read, I shall 
think or say nothin’ about this fright; 
though the instrument that a man signs 
because he is frightened, if the fright be 
what I call a legal fright, is no instru- 
ment at all.”’ 

‘*But such was not the deacon’s case, 
Squire Job,’”’ put in Baiting Joe, at once. 
‘He did not sign the insterment because 
he was frightened, but was frightened be- 
cause he signed the insterment. Let the 
boat go right end foremost, squire.’’ 

‘‘Read the will, Captain Gar’ner, if 
you have it,’’ said Mr. Job Pratt, with 
decision. ‘‘It is proper that we should — 
know who is executor. Friends, will you 
be silent for a moment ? ”’ 

Amid a death-like stillness, Roswell 
Gardiner now read as follows: 

‘*In the name of God, amen. I, Icha- 
bod Pratt, of the town of Southold, and 
county of Suffolk, and State of New 
York, being of failing bodily health, but 
of sound mind, do make and declare this 
to be my last will and testament. 

‘‘T bequeath to my niece, Mary Pratt, 
only child of my late brother, Israel 
Pratt, all my real estate, whatsoever it 
may be and wheresoever situate, to be 
held by her, her heirs, and assigns, for- 
ever, in fee. 

«‘T bequeath to my brother, Job Pratt, 
any horse of which I shall die possessed, 
to be chosen by himself, as a compensa- 
tion for the injury inflicted on a horse of 
his, while in my use. 

‘<T bequeath to my sister, Jane Thomas, 
the large looking-glass that is hanging 
up in the east bedroom of my house, and 


230 WORKS 


which was once the property of our be- 
loved mother. 

‘“*T bequeath to the widow Catherine 
Martin, my cousin, the big pincushion in 
the said east chamber, which she used so 
much to praise and admire. 

“‘T bequeath to my said niece, Mary 
Pratt, the only child of my late brother, 
Irsael Pratt, aforesaid, all of my personal 
estate, whether in possession or existing 
in equity, including money at use, vessels, 
stock on farm, all other sorts of stock, 
furniture, wearing apparel, book-debts, 
money in hand, and all sorts of personal 
property whatever. 

‘‘T nominate and appoint Roswell Gar- 
diner, now absent on a sealing voyage, in 
my employment, as the sole executor of 
this my last will, provided he return home 
within six months of my decease; and 
should he not return home within the said 


six months, then I appoint my above- 


mentioned niece and heiress, Mary Pratt, 
the sole executrix of this my will. 

“‘T earnestly advise my said niece, 
Mary Pratt, to marry the said Reswell 
Gardiner; but I annex no conditions 
whatever to this advice, wishing to leave 
my adopted daughter free to do as she 
may think best.”’ 

The instrument was, in all respects, 
duly executed, and there could not be 
a doubt of its entire validity. Mary felt 
a little bewildered, as well as greatly em- 
barrassed. So perfectly disinterested had 
been all her care of her uncle, and so 
humble her wishes, that she did not for 
some time regard herself as the owner of 
a property that she had all her life been 
accustomed to consider as a part of her 
late uncle. The heirs expectant, “ a’ter 
reading the insterment,’’ as Baiting Joe 
told his cronies, when he related the cir- 
cumstances over a mug of cider that 
evening, ‘‘fore and aft, and overhauling 
it from truck to keelson, give the matter 
up, aS a bad job. They couldn’t make 
nawthin’ out of oppersition,’’ continued 
Joe, “‘and so they took the horse, and 
the looking-glass, and the pincushion, 
and cleared out with their cargo. You 
couldn’t get one of that breed to leave as 
much as a pin behind, to which he thought 


OF FENIMORE 


COOPER. 


the law would give him a right. Squire — 


Job went off very unwillingly; for so 
strong was his belief in his claim, that 
he made up his mind, as he told me him- 
self, to break up the north meadow, and 
put it in corn this coming season.”’ 
«They say that Minister Whittle took 
it very hard that nawthin’ was said about 
him, or about meetin’, in the deacon’s 
will,’’ observed Jake Davis, one of Bait- 
ing Joe’s cronies. 
~©That he did; and he tuck it so hard 
that everybody allows that the two ser- 


mons he preached the next Sabba’ day to © 


be the very two worst he ever did preach.”’ 
“They must have been pretty bad, 


then,’’ quaintly observed Davis; ‘I’ve 


long set down Minister Whittle’s dis- 
courses as being a leetle the worst going, 
when you give him a chance.”’ 

It is unnecessary to relate any more of 
this dialogue, nor should we have given 
the little we have, did it not virtually ex- 
plain what actually occurred on the publi- 
cation of the contents of the will. Ros- 
well met with no opposition in proving 
the instrument ; and the day after he was 
admitted to act as executor he was mar- 
ried to Mary Pratt, and became tenant, 


by the courtesy, to all her real estate; — 


such being the law then, though itis no 
longer. Now, aman and wife may have 


a very pretty family quarrel about the — 
ownership of a dozen teaspoons, and the — 


last. so far aS we can see, may order the 


¢ 
1 


first out of one of her rocking-chairs, if — 


she sees fit ! 
so trifling a matter that the law should 


seek to add new subjects of strife to the © 


Surely domestic peace is not — 


t 


} 


many that seem to be nearly inseparable — 


from the married state. 


Let this be as it may, no such law ex- 


isted when Roswell Gardiner and Mary 
Pratt became man and wife. One of the 
first acts of the happy young couple, after 
they were united, was to make a suitable 
disposition of the money found buried at 
the foot of the tree, on the so-much-talked- 
of key. Its amount was a little more 
than two thousand dollars; the pirate 
who made the revelation to Daggett hav- 
ing, in all probabilty, been ignorant him- 
self of the real sum that had been thus 


| 
| 
| 
| 


' 


secreted. By a specific bargain with the 
crew, all this money belonged to the dea- 
con; and, consequently, it had descended 
to his niece, and through her was now 
legally the property of Roswell. The 
young man was not altogether free from 
scruples about using money that had been 
_ originally taken as booty by pirates, and 
his conscientious wife had still greater 
objections. After conferring together on 
_ the subject, however, and seeing the im- 
_ possibility of restoring the gold to those 
from whom it had been forced in the first 
place, the doubloons were distributed 
among the families of those who had lost 
their lives at Sealers’ Land. The shares 
did not amount to much, it is true, but 
they did good, and cheered the hearts of 
two or three widows and dependent sisters. 
Nor did Roswell Gardiner’s care for 
their welfare stop here. 
tion put in good order, removed her 
_ decks, raised upon her, and put her in-her 
original condition, and sent her to Sealer’s 
_ Land again, under the orders of Hazard, 
who was instructed to take in all the oil 
and skins that had been left behind, and 
to fill up, if he could, without risking too 
much by delay. All this was successfully 
done, the schooner coming back after a 
‘very short voyage, and quite full. The 
money made by this highly successful 
adventure had the effect to console several 
of those who had great cause to regret 
_ their previous losses. 
As to Roswelland Mary, they had much 
_ reason to be contented with their lot. The 
_ deacon’s means were found to be much 
more considerable than had been supposed. 
ij 


_ When all was brought into a snug state, 
_ Roswell found that his wife was worth 
more than thirty thousand dollars, a sum 
_ which constituted wealth on Oyster Pond 
-inthat day. We have, however, already 
hinted that the simplicity, and we fear 
with it the happiness, of the place has de- 
‘parted. A railroad terminates within a 
‘short distance of the deacon’s old resi- 
dence, bringing with it the clatter, ambi- 
tion, and rivalry of such a mode of travel- 
ing. What is even worse, the venerable 
and expressive name of “‘ Oyster Pond,”’ 
one that conveys in its very sound the 


THE SHA LIONS. 


He had the Sea. 


231 


ideas of savory dishes, and an abundance 
of a certain and a very agreeable sort, has 
been changed to ‘‘ Orient.’? Heaven save 
the mark! Long Island has hitherto been 
famous, in the history of New York, for 
the homely piquancy of its names, which 
usually conveyed a graphic idea of the 
place indicated. It is true, “‘ Jerusalem ’”’ 
cannot boast of its Solomon’s Temple, nor 
‘“‘ Babylon ”’ of its Hanging Gardens ; but, 
by common consent, it is understood that 
these two names, and some half-a-dozen 
more of the same quality, are to be taken 
by their opposites. 

Roswell Gardiner did not let Stimson 
pass out of his sight, as is customary with 
seamen when they quit a vessel. He made 
him master of a sloop that plied between 
New York and Southold, in which employ- 
ment the good old man fulfilled his time, 
leaving to a widowed sister who dwelt 


‘with him the means of a comfortable 


livelihood for life. 

The only bit of management of which 
Mary could be accused, was practiced by 
her shortly after Stimson’s death, and 
some six or eight years after her own mar- 
riage. One of her school friends, and a 
relative, had married a person who dwelt 
‘‘ west of the bridge,’’ as it is the custom 
to say of all the counties that lie west of 
Cayuga Lake. This person, whose name 
was Hight, had mills, and made large 
quantities of that excellent flour that is 
getting to enjoy its merited reputation 
even in the Old World. He was disposed 
to form a partnership with Roswell, who 
sold his property and migrated to the 
great West, as the country ‘‘ west of the 
bridge’? was then termed, though it is 
necessary now to go a thousand miles far- 
ther in order to reach what is termed ‘‘ the 
western country.’’ Mary had an impor- 
tant agency in bringing about this mi- 
gration. She had seen certain longings 
after the ocean, and seals, and whales, in 
her husband; and did not consider him 
safe so long as he could scent the odors of 
a salt marsh. There is delight in this 
fragrance that none can appreciate so 
thoroughly as those who have enjoyed it 
in youth: it remains as long as human 
senses retain their faculties. An increas- 


WORKS 


Pa 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


ing family, however, and el dorado of the | own insignificance, as compared to the 


West, which, in that day, produced wheat, 
were inducements for a removal there, 
and, aided by Mary’s gentle management, 
produced the desired effect; and for more 
than twenty years Roswell Gardiner has 
been a very successful miller, on a large 
scale, in one of the western counties of 
what is called ‘‘ the Empire State.’? We 
do not think the sobriquets of this country 
very hapvy, in general, but shall quarrel 
less with this than with the phrase of 
“commercial emporium,’’? which is much 
as if one should say, ‘‘a townish town.”’ 
Roswell Gardiner has never wavered in 
his faith, from the time when his feelings 
were awakened by the just view of his 


power of God. He then learned the first 
great lesson in religious belief, that of 
humility ; without which no man can be 
truly penitent, or truly a Christian. He 
no longer thought of measuring the Deity 
with his narrow faculties, or of setting up 
his blind conclusions, in the face of posi- 
tive revelations. He saw that all must 
be accepted, or none; and there was too 
much evidence, too much inherent truth, 
a morality too divine, to allow a mind like 
his to reject the gospel altogether. With 
Mary at his side, he has continued to wor- 
ship the Trinity, accepting its mysteries 
in an humble reliance on the words of in- 
spired men. 


THE END OF “‘ THE SEA LIONS.’’ 


_ the subject. 


Age RS Sy ON. SEF a a es 


—— 


oe 


_ 
~ 


oe ed ae ee 


- 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


PREFACE. 


THE writer has published so much truth 
which the world has insisted was fiction, 
and’ so much fiction which has been re- 
ceived as truth, that, in the present 
instance, he is resolved to say nothing on 
Each of his readers is at 
liberty to believe just as much, or as little, 
of the matter here laid before him, or her, 
as may suit his or her notions, prejudices, 
knowledge of the world, or ignorance. If 
anybody is disposed to swear he knows 
precisely where Clawbonny is, that he 
was well acquainted with old Mr. Har- 
dinge, nay, has often heard him preach— 
let him make his affidavit in welcome. 
Should he get a little wide of the mark, it 
will not be the first document of that nat- 


ure which has possessed the same weak- 


ness. 

It is possible that certain captious per- 
sons may be disposed to inquire into the 
cut bono ? of such a book. The answer is 
this. Hverything which can convey to the 
human mind distinct and acgurate impres- 
sions of events, social facts, professional 
peculiarities, or past history, whether of 
the higher or more familiar character, is 
of use. All that is necessary is, that the 
pictures should be true to nature, if not 
absolutely drawn from living sitters. The 
_ knowledge we gain by our looser reading 
often becomes serviceable in modes and 
manners little anticipated in the moments 
when it is acquired. 

Perhaps the greater portion of our pe- 
_culiar opinions have their foundations in 
prejudices. These prejudices are pro- 
duced in consequence of its being out of 
the power of any man to see, or know, 
everything. The most favored mortal 


must receive far more than half of all that 
he learns on his faith in others ; and it may 
aid those who can never be placed in 
positions to judge for themselves of certain 
phases of men and things, to get pictures 
of the same, drawn in a way to give them 
nearer views than they might otherwise 
obtain. This is the greatest benefit of all 
light literature in general, it being pos- 
sible to render that which is purely ficti- 
tious even more useful than that which is 
strictly true, by avoiding extravagances, 
by portraying with fidelity, and, as our 
friend Marble might say, by “ generaliz- 
ing’’ with discretion. 

This country has undergone many im- 
portant changes since the commencement 
of the present century. Some of these 
changes have been for the better; others, 
we think out of all question, for the 
worse. The last is a fact that can be 
known tothe generation which is coming 
into life by report only, and these pages 
may possibly throw some little light on 
both points, in representing things as they 
were. The population of the republic is 
probably something more than eighteen 
millions and a half to-day ; in the year of 
our Lord one thousand eight hundred it 
was but a little more than five millions. 
In 1800, the population of New York was 
somewhat less than six hundred thousand 
souls; to-day it is probably a little less 
than two millions seven hundred thousand 
souls. In 1800, the town of New York 
had sixty thousand inhabitants; whereas, 
including Brooklyn and Williamsburg, 
which then virtually had no existence, it 
must have at this moment quite four 
hundred thousand. These are prodigious 
numerical changes, that have produced 
changes of another sort. Although an in- 

(233) 


234 WORKS 
crease of numbers does not necessarily 
infer an increase of high civilization, it 
reasonably leads to the expectation of 
great melioration in the commoner com- 
forts. Such has been the result, and to 
those familiar with facts as they now 
exist, the difference will probably be ap- 
parent in these pages. 

Although the moral changes in Ameri- 
can society have not kept pace with those 
that are purely physical, many that are 
essential have nevertheless occurred. Of 
all the British possessions on this conti- 
nent, New York, after its conquest from 
- the Dutch, received most of the social or- 
ganization of the mother country. Under 
the Dutch even, it had some of these char- 
acteristic peculiarities in its patrons; the 
lords of the manor of the New Nether- 
lands. Some of the southern colonies, it 
is true, had their caciques and other semi- 
feudal and semi-savage noblesse, but the 
system was of short continuance ; the pe- 
culiarities of that section of the country 
arising principally from the existence of 
domestic slavery on an extended scale. 
With New York it was different. A con- 
quered colony, the mother country left the 
impression of its own institutions more 
deeply engraved than on any of the set- 
tlements that were commenced by grants 
to proprietors, or under charters from the 
erown. It was strictly a royal colony, 
and so continued to be, down to the hour 
of separation. The social consequences of 
this state of things were to be traced in 
her habits until the current of immigra- 
tion became so strong as to bring with it 
those that were conflicting, if not abso- 
lutely antagonist. The influence of these 
two sources of thought is still obvious to 
the reflecting, giving rise to a double set 
of social opinions; one of which bears all 
the characteristics of its New England 
and puritanical origin, while the other 
may be said to come of the usages and 
notions of the Middle States proper. 

This is said in anticipation of certain 
strictures that will be likely to follow 
some of the incidents of our story, it not 
being always deemed an essential in an 
American critic that he should understand 
his subject. Too many of them, indeed, 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


justify the retort of the man who derided 
the claims to knowledge of life set up by a 
neighbor, that ‘‘had been to meetin’ and 
had been to mill.’”’ We can all obtain 


‘some notions of the portion of a subject 


that is placed immediately before our 
eyes; the difficulty is to understand that 
which we have no means of studying. 

On the subject of the nautical incidents 
of this book, we have endeavored to be 
as exact as our authorities will allow. 
We are fully aware of the importance 
of writing what the world thinks, rather 
than what is true, and are not conscious 
of any very palpable errors of this nature. 

The author—perhaps editor would be 
the better word—does not feel himself re- 
sponsible for all the notions advanced 
by the hero of this tale, and it may be © 
as well to say as much. That one bornin 
the Revolution should think differently 
from the men of the present day, in a 
hundred things, is to be expected. It 
is in just this difference of opinion that 
the lessons of the book are to be found. 


ee 


CHAPTER I. 


‘¢ And I—my joy of life is fled, 

My spirit’s power, my bosom’s glow; 

The raven locks that grac’d my head, 

Wave in a wreath of snow! 

And where the star of youth arose 

I deem’d life’s lingering ray should close; 

And those lov’d trees my tomb o’ershade, 
Beneath whose arching bowers my childhood 

/ *playd.” —MRrs. HEMANS. 


I wAs born in a valley not very remote 
from the sea. My father had been a sailor 
in youth, and some of my earliest recollec- 
tions are connected with the history of 
his adventures and the recollections they 
excited. He had been a boy in the war of _ 
the Revolution, and had seen some service 
in the shipping of that period. Among 
other scenes he witnessed, he had been on 
board the Trumbull in her action with the 
Watt—the hardest-fought naval combat 
of that war—and he particularly delighted 
in relating its incidents. He had been 
wounded in the battle, and bore the marks 
of the injury in a scar that slightly dis- 
figured a face that, without this blemish, 


would have been singularly handsome. 
My mother, after my poor father’s death, 
_ always spoke of even this scar asa beauty- 
spot. Agreeably to my own recollections 
the mark scarcely deserved that commen- 
dation, as it gave one side of the face a 
grim and fierce appearance, particularly 
when its owner was displeased. 

_ My father died on the farm on which he 
| was born, and which descended to him 
from his great-grandfather, an English 
_ emigrant that had purchased it of the 
_ Dutch colonist who had originally cleared 
it from the woods. The place was called 
_ Clawbonny, which some said was good 
_ Dutch, others bad Dutch; and now and 
then a person ventured a conjecture that 


it might be Indian. Bonny it was, in one 
sense at least, for a lovelier farm there is 
not on the whole of the wide surface of 
the Empire State. What does not always 
| happen in this wicked world, it was as 
good as it was handsome. It consisted of 
three hundred and seventy-two acres of 
first-rate land, either arable or rich river 
bottom in meadows, and of more than a 
hundred of rocky mountain side, that was 
very tolerably covered with wood. The 
first of our family who owned the place 
had built a substantial one-story stone 
_ house, that bears the date of 1707 on one 
of its gables; and to which each of his 
j 
: 


= SE | ee ae 


suecessors had added a little, until the 
whole structure got to resemble a cluster 
of cottages thrown together without the 
least attention to order or regularity. 
There were a porch, a front door, and a 
lawn, however; the latter containing half 
- adozen acres of a soil as black as one’s 
hat, and nourishing eight or ten elms that 


_ were scattered about as if their seeds had | 


_ been sown broadcast. In addition to the 
_ trees and a suitable garniture of shrub- 
_ bery, this lawn was coated with a sward 
_ that, in the proper seasons, rivaled all I 
have read or imagined of the emerald and 
_ shorn slopes of the Swiss valleys. 
~ Clawbonny, while it had all the appear- 
ance of being the residence of an affluent 
agriculturist, had none of the pretension 
of these latter times. The house had an 
air of substantial comfort without, an ap- 
pearance that its interior in no manner 


AFLOAT AND 


ASHORE. 235 


contradicted. The ceilings were low, it 
is true, nor were the rooms particularly 
large; but the latter were wairfq) In) win- 
ter, cool in summer, and) tidy, ; neat 


a ’ ee 
respectable all the year round. Both th HOLS 


parlors had carpets, as had the passages 
and all the better bedrooms; and there 
were an old-fashioned chintz settee, well 
stuffed and cushioned, and curtains in the 
“‘bige parlor,’’ as we called the best apart- 
ment—the pretending name of drawing- 
room not having reached our valley as far 
back as the year 1796, or that in which 
my recollections of the place, as it then 
existed, are the most vivid and distinct. 
We had orchards, meadows, and 
plowed fields all around us; while ‘the 
barns, granaries, styes, and other build- 
ings of the farm, were of solid stone, like 
the dwelling, and all in capital condition. 
In addition to the place, which he in- 
herited from my grandfather quite with- 
out any encumbrance, well stocked and 
supplied with utensils of all sorts, my 
father had managed to bring with him 
from sea some fourteen or fifteen thousand 
dollars, which he carefully invested in 
mortgages in the county. He got twenty- 
seven hundred pounds currency with my 
mother, similarly bestowed ; and, two or 
three great landed proprietors and as 
many retired merchants from York ex- 


-cepted, Captain Wallingford was gener- 


ally supposed to be one of the stiffest men 
in Ulster County. Ido not know exactly 
how true was this report; though I never 
saw anything but the abundance of a 
better sort of American farm under the 
paternal roof, and I know that the poor 
were never sent away empty-handed. 

It is true that our wine was made of 
currents; but it was delicious, and there 
was always a sufficient stock in the cellar 
to enable us to drink it three or four years 
old. My father, however, had a small 
private collection of his own, out of which 
he would occasionally produce a bottle ; 
and I remember to have heard Governor 
George Clinton, afterward Vice-President, 
who was an Ulster County man, and who 
sometimes stopped at Clawbonny in pass- 
ing, say that it was excellent Kast India 
madeira. As forclarets, burgundy, hock, 


iif} 


236 


and champagne, they were wines then 
unknown in America, except on the tables 
of Some! of! the principal merchants, and 
here andythere\ on| that of some traveled 
‘gentleman of an estate larger than com- 
mon.’ When I say that Governor George 
Clinton used to stop occasionally and 
taste my father’s madeira, I do not wish 
to boast of being classed with those who 
then composed the gentry of the State. 
To this, in that day, we could hardly 
aspire, though the substantial hereditary 
property of my family gave us a local 
consideration that placed us a good deal 
above the station of ordinary yeomen. 
Had we lived in one of the large towns, 
our association would unquestionably have 
been with those who are usually consid- 
ered to be one or two degrees beneath the 
highest class. These distinctions were 
much more marked immediately after the 
war of the Revolution than they are to- 
day; and they are more marked to-day, 
even, than all but the most lucky or the 
most meritorious, whichever fortune dig- 
nifies, are willing to allow. 

The courtship between my parents oc- 
curred while my father was at home to be 
cured of the wounds he had received in the 
engagement between the 7rwmbull and 
the Watt. I have always supposed this 
was the moving cause why my mother 
fancied that the grim-looking scar on the 
left side of my father’s face was so partic- 
ularly becoming. The battle was fought 
in June, 1780, and my parents were mar- 
ried in the autumn of the same year. My 
father did not go to sea again until after 
my birth, which took place the very day 
that Cornwallis capitulated at Yorktown. 
These combined events set the young 
sailor in motion, for he felt he had a fam- 
ily to provide for, and he wished to make 
one more mark on the enemy in return 
for the beauty-spot his wife so gloried in. 
He accordingly got a commission in a 
privateer, made two or three fortunate 
cruises, and was able at the peace to pur- 
chase a prize-brig, which he sailed as mas- 
ter and owner until the year 1790, when 
he was recalled to the paternal roof 
by the death of my grandfather. Being 
an only son, the captain, as my father 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


was uniformly called, inherited the land, 
stock, utensils, and crops, as already men- 
tioned; while the six thousand pounds 
currency that were ‘‘at use,’’ went to my 
two aunts, who were thought to be well 
married to men in their own class of life, 
in adjacent counties. 

My father never went to sea after he 
inherited Clawbonny. From that time 
down to the day of his death, he remained 
on his farm, with the exception of a single 
winter passed in Albany as one of the rep- 
resentatives of the county. In his day it 
was a credit to a man to represent a coun- 
ty, and to hold office under the State; 
though the abuse of the elective principle, 
not to say of the appointing power, has 
since brought about so great a change. 
Then a member of Congress was some- 
body ; now he is only—a member of Con- 
gress. 

We were but two surviving children, 
three of the family dying infants, leaving 
only my sister Grace and myself to con- 
sole our mother in her widowhood. The 
dire accident which placed her in this, the 
saddest of all conditions for a woman who 
had been a happy wife, occurred in the 
year 1794, when I was in my thirteenth 
year, and Grace was turned eleven. It 
may be well to relate the particulars. 

There was a mill, just where the stream 
that runs through our valley tumbles 
down to a level below that on which the 
farm lies, and empties itself into a small 
tributary of the Hudson. This mill was 
on our property, and was a source of 
great convenience and of some profit to 
my father. 
grain that was consumed for domestic 
purposes for several miles around; and 
the tolls enabled him to fatten his pork- 
ers and beeves, in a way to give both a 
sort of established character. In a word, 
the mill was a concentrating point for 
all the products of the farm, there being 
a little landing on the margin of the 
creek that put up from the Hudson, 
whence a sloop sailed weekly for town. 
My father passed half his time about 
the mill and landing, superintending his 
workmen, and particularly giving direc- 
tions about the fitting of the sloop which 


There he ground all the 


—— 


ee ee ee ea a an 


7 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


was his property also, and about the gear 
of the mill. He was clever, certainly, 
and had made several useful suggestions 
to the millwright who occasionally came 
to examine and repair the works; but 
he was by no means so accurate a me- 
chanic as he fancied himself to be. He 


had invented some new mode of arrest- 


ing the movement, and of setting the 


machinery in motion when necessary ; 


what it was, I never knew, for it was 
not named at Clawbonny after the fatal 
accident occurred. One day, however, 
in order to convince the millwright of 
the excellence of this improvement, my 
father caused the machinery to be 
stopped, and then placed his own weight 
upon the large wheel, in order to mani- 
fest the sense he felt in the security of 
his invention. 

He was in the very act of laughing ex- 
ultingly at the manner in which the mill- 
wright shook his head at the risk he ran, 
when the arresting power lost its control 
of the machinery, the heavy head of water 
burst into the buckets, and the wheel 
whirled round carrying my unfortunate 
father with it. I was an eye-witness of 
the whole, and saw the face of my parent, 
as the wheel turned it from me, still ex- 
panded inmirth. There was but one revo- 
lution made, when the wright succeeded 
in stopping the works. This brought the 
great wheel back nearly to its original 
position, and I fairly shouted with hyster- 
ical delight when I saw my father standing 


in his tracks, as it might be, seemingly 


unhurt. Unhurt he would have been, 
though he must have passed a fearful 
keel-hauling, but for one circumstance. 
He had held on to the wheel with the 
tenacity of a seaman, since letting go his 
hold would have thrown him down a cliff 
of near a hundred feet in depth, and he 
actually passed between the wheel and 
the planking beneath it unharmed, al- 
though there was only an inch or two to 
spare; but, in rising from this fearful 
strait, his head had been driven between 
a projecting beam and one of the buckets, 
ina way to crush one temple in upon the 
brain. So swift and sudden had been the 
whole thing, that, on turning the wheel, 


237 


his lifeless body was still inclining on its 
periphery, retained erect, I believe, in con- 
sequence of some part of his Shin sa kins 
attached to the head of) a, nai, Tis was 
the first serious sorrow of my ie, 
always regarded my father as one i the 
fixtures of the world; as a part of the 
great system of the universe; and had 
never contemplated his death as a possi- 
ble thing. That another revolution might 
occur, and carry the country back under 
the dominion of the British crown, would 
have seemed to me far more possible than 
that my father could die. Bitter truth 
now convinced me of the fallacy of such 
notions. 

It was months and months before I 
ceased to dream of this frightful scene. 
At my age, all the feelings were fresh and 
plastic, and grief took strong hold of my 
heart. Grace and I used to look at each 
other without speaking, long after. the 
event, the tears starting to my eyes, and 
rolling down her cheeks, our emotions 
being the only communications between 
us, but communications that no uttered 
words could have made so plain. Even 
now, I allude to my mother’s anguish 
with trembling. She was sent for to the 
house of the miller, where the body lay, 
and arrived unapprised of the extent of 
the evil. Never can I—never shall I for- 
get the outbreakings of her sorrow when 
she learned the whole of the dreadful 
truth. She was in fainting fits for hours, 
one succeeding another, and then her 
grief found tongue. There was no term 
of endearment that the heart of woman 
could dictate to her speech that was not 
lavished on the lifeless clay. She called 
the dead ‘‘her Miles,’? ‘‘her beloved 
Miles,”’ ‘‘her husband,’’ ‘‘ her own darl- 
ing husband,’’ and by such other endear- 
ing epithets. Once she seemed as if 
resolute to arouse the sleeper from his 
endless trancé, and she said, solemnly, 
«« Father—dear, dearest father !’’ appeal- 
ing as it might be to the parent of her 
children, the tenderest and most compre- 
hensive of all woman’s terms of endear- 
ment — ‘‘ Father—dear, dearest father ! 
open your eyes and look upon your 
babes — your precious girl and _ noble 


Tihaall il § 


238 WORKS 


Do not thus shut out their sight 


1? 


boy ! 
forever 

But /it}was in vain. There lay the life- 
_ less corpse, as insensible as if the spirit of 


\\IGod ‘had never had a dwelling within it. 


The principal injury had been received on 
that much-prized scar; and again and 
again did my poor mother kiss both, as 
if her caresses might yet restore her 
husband to life. All would not do. The 
same evening, the body was carried to 
the dwelling, and three days later it was 
laid in the churchyard, by the side of 
three generations of forefathers, at a 
distance of only a mile from Clawbonny. 
That funeral service, too, made a deep 
impression on my memory. We had 
some Church of England people in the 
valley; and old Miles Wallingford, the 
first of the name, a substantial English 
franklin, had been influenced in his choice 
of a purchase by the fact that one of Queen 
Anne’s churches stood so near the farm. 
To that little church, a tiny edifice of 
stone, with a high pointed roof, without 
steeple, bell, or vestry room, had three 
generations of us been taken up to be 
christened, and three, including my 
father, had been taken to be buried. 
Excellent, kind-hearted, just-minded Mr. 
Hardinge read the funeral service over 
the man whom his own father had, in the 
same humble edifice, christened. Our 
neighborhood has much altered of late 
years; but, then, few higher than mere 
laborers dwelt among us who had not 
some sort of hereditary claim to be be- 
loved. So it was with our ba Fail 
whose father had been his predecessor, 
having actually married my grandpa- 
rents. The son had united my father and 
mother, and now he was called on to offi- 
ciate at the funeral obsequies of the first. 
Grace and I sobbed as if our hearts would 
break, the whole time we were in the 
church ; and my poor, sensitive, nervous 
little sister actually shrieked as she heard 
the sound of the first clod that fell upon 
the coffin. Our mother was spared that 
trying scene, finding it impossible to sup- 
port it. She remained at home, on her 
knees, most of the day on which the 
funeral occurred. 


‘easily made. 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


Time soothed our sorrows, though my 
mother, a woman of more than common 
sensibility, or, it were better to say, of 
uncommon affections, never entirely re- 
covered from the effects of her irreparable 
loss. She had loved too well, too devot- 
edly, too engrossingly, ever to think of a 
Second marriage, and lived only to care 
for the interest of Miles Wallingford’s 
children. I firmly believe we were more 
beloved because we stood in this relation 
to the deceased, than because we were her 
own natural offspring. Her health be- 
came gradually undermined, and, three 
years after the accident of the mill, Mr. 
Hardinge laid her at my father’s side. I 
was now Sixteen, and can better describe 
what passed during the last days of her 
existence, than what took place at the 
death of her husband. Grace and I were 
apprised of what was so likely to occur, 


quite a month before the fatal moment 


arrived ; and we were not so much over- 
whelmed with sudden grief as we had 
been on the first great occasion of family 
sorrow, though we both felt our loss keen- 
ly, and my sister, | think I may almost 
say, inextinguishably. Mr. Hardinge had 
us both brought to the bedside, to listen 
to the parting advice of our dying parent, 
and to be impressed with a scene that is 
always healthful, if rightly improved. 
‘‘You baptized these two dear children, 
good Mr. Hardinge,’’ she said, in a voice 
that was already enfeebled by physical 
decay, *‘and you signed them with the 
sign of the cross, in token of Christ’s 
death for them ; and I now ask of your 
friendship and pastoral care to see that 
they are not neglected at the most critical 
period of their lives—that when impres- 
sions are the deepest, and yet the most 
God will reward all your 
kindness to the orphan children of your 
friends.’’ The excellent divine, a man who 
lived more for others than for himself, 
made the required promises, and the soul 
of my mother took its flight in peace. 
Neither my sister nor myself grieved 
as deeply for the loss of this last of our 
parents, as we did for that of the first. 
We had both seen so many instances of 
her devout goodness, had been witnesses 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


of so great a triumph of her faith, as to 
feel an intimate, though silent, persuasion 
that her death was merely a passage to a 
better state of existence—that it seemed 
selfish to regret. Still, we wept and 


e . . . 
mourned, even while, in one sense, I think 


we rejoiced. She was relieved from much 
bodily suffering, and | remember, when I 
went to take a last look at her beloved 
face, that [gazed on its calm serenity with 
a feeling akin to exultation, as I recol- 
lected that pain could no longer exercise 
dominion over her frame, and that her 
spirit was then dwelling in bliss. Bitter 
regrets came later, it is true, and these 
were fully shared—nay, more than shared 
—by Grace. 

After the death of my father, I had 
never bethought me of the manner in 
which he had disposed of his property. I 
heard something said of his will, and 
gleaned a little, accidentally, of the forms 
that had been gone through in proving the 
instrument, and of obtaining its probate. 
Shortly after my mother’s death, however, 
Mr. Hardinge had a free conversation with 
both me and Grace on the subject, when 
we learned, for the first time, the dispo- 
sition that had been made. My father 
had bequeathed to me the farm, mill, 
landing, sloop, stock, utensils, crops, etc., 
etc., in full property ; subject, however, to 
my mother’s use of the whole until I at- 
tained my majority; after which I was to 
give her complete possession of a comfort- 
able wing of the house, which had every 
convenience for a small family within it- 
self, certain privileges in the fields, dairy, 
styes, orchards, meadows, granaries, etc., 
and to pay herthree hundred pounds cur- 
rency per annum, in money. Grace had 
four thousand pounds that were ‘at use,”’ 
and I had all the remainder of the personal 
property, which yielded about five hun- 
dred dollars a year. As the farm, sloop, 
mill, landing, etc., produced a net annual 
income of rather more than a thousand 
dollars, besides all that was consumed in 
housekeeping, I was very well off, in the 
way of temporal things, for one who had 
been trained in habits as simple as those 
which reigned at Clawbonny. 


My father had left Mr. Hardinge the 


239 


executor, and my mother an executrix of 
his will, with survivorship. He had also 
made the same provision as re pected the 


guardians. Thus Grace and 'T became the 1 


wards of the clergyman alone on, the 
death of our last remaining parent. This 
was grateful to us both, for we both truly 
loved this good man, and, what was more, 
we loved his children. Of these there 
were two, of ages corresponding very 
nearly with our own; Rupert Hardinge 
being not quite a year older than I was 
myself, and Lucy, his sister, about six 
months younger than Grace. We were 
all four strongly attached to each other, 
and had been so from infancy, Mr. Hard- 
inge having had charge of my education 
as soon as | was taken from a woman’s 
school. 

I cannot say, however, that Rupert 
Hardinge was ever a boy to give his 
father the delight that a studious, well- 
conducted, considerate, and industrious 
child has it so much in his power to yield 
to his parent. Of the two, 1 was much 
the best scholar, and had been pronounced 
by Mr. Hardinge fit to enter college, a 
twelvemonth before my mother died; 
though she declined sending me to Yale, 
the institution selected by my father, 
until my school-fellow was similarly pre- 
pared, it having been her intention to give 
the clergyman’s son a thorough educa- 
tion, in furtherance of his father’s views 
of bringing him up to the church. This 
delay, so well and kindly meant, had the 
effect of changing the whole course of my 
subsequent life. 

My father, it seems, wished to make a 
lawyer of me, with the natural desire of 
seeing me advanced to some honorable 
position in the State. But I was averse 
to anything like serious mental labor, and 
was greatly delighted when my mother 
determined to keep me out of college a 
twelve-month, in order that my friend 
Rupert might be my class-mate. It is 
true I learned quick, and was fond’ of 
reading; but the first I could not very 
well help, while the reading I liked was 
that which amused, rather than that 
which instructed me. As for Rupert, 
though not absolutely dull, but, on the 


240 


other hand, absolutely clever in certain 
things, he disliked mental labor even more 
than myself, while he liked self-restraint 
\of any sort far less. His father was sin- 
cerely pious, and regarded his sacred 
office with too much reverence to think of 
bringing up a ‘‘ cosset-priest,’’ though he 
prayed and hoped that his son’s inclina- 
tions, under the guidance of Providence, 
would take that direction. He seldom 
spoke of the subject himself, but I ascer- 
tained his wishes through my confidential 
dialogues with his children. Lucy seemed 
delighted with the idea, looking forward 
to the time when her brother would offici- 
ate in the same desk where her father and 
grandfather had now conducted the wor- 
ship of God for more than half a century ; 
a period of time that to us young people 
seemed to lead us back to the dark ages 
of the country. And all this the dear 
girl wished for her brother, in connection 
with his spiritual rather than his temporal 
interests, inasmuch as the living was 
worth only a badly-paid salary of one 
hundred and fifty pounds currency per 
annum, together with a small but com- 
fortable rectory, and a gilebe of five-and- 
twenty acres of very tolerable land, which 
it was thought no sin, in that day, for the 
clergyman to work by means of two male 
slaves, whom, with as many females, he 
had inherited as part of the chattels of 
his mother. 

I had a dozen slaves, also; negroes who, 
as a race, had been in the family almost as 
long as Clawbonny. About half of these 
blacks were singularly laborious and use- 
ful, viz., four males and three of the fe- 
males ; but several of the remainder were 
enjoying otiwm, and not altogether with- 
out dignitate, as heirlooms to be fed, 
clothed, and lodged, for the good or evil 
they had done. There were some small- 
fry in our kitchens, too, that used to roll 
about on the grass, and munch fruit in the 
summer ad libitum ; and stand so close 
in the chimney-corners in cold weather, 
that I have often fancied they must have 
been, aS a legal wit of New York once 
pronounced certain eastern coal mines to 
be, incombustible. These negroes all went 


by the patronymic of Clawbonny, there 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


being among them Hector Clawbonny, 
Venus Clawbonny, Cesar Clawbonny, 
Rose Clawbonny—who was as_ black 
as a crow— Romeo Clawbonny, and 
Julietta, commonly called Julee, Claw- 


bonny ; who were, with Pharaoh, 
Potiphar, Samson, and Nebuchadnez- 
zar, all Clawbonnys in the last re- 


sort. Neb, as the namesake of the her- 
bivorous king of Babylon was called, was 
about my own age, and had been a sort of 
humble playfellow from infancy ; and even 
now, when it was thought proper to set 
him about the more serious toil which was 
to mark his humble career, I often inter- 
ferred to call him away to be my compan- 
ion with the rod, the fowling-piece, or in 
the boat, of which we had one that fre- 
quently descended the creek and navi- 
gated the Hudson for miles at a time, 
under my command. The lad, by such 
means, and through an off-hand friend- 
liness of manner that I rather think was 
characteristic of my habits at that day, 
got to love me as a brother or comrade. 
It is not easy to describe the affection of 
an attached slave, which has blendid with 
it the pride of a partisan, the solicitude of 
a parent, and the blindness of a lover. I 
do think Neb had more gratification in 
believing himself particularly belonging 
to Master Miles, than I ever had in any 
quality or thing I could call my own. 
Neb, moreover, liked a vagrant life, and 
greatly encouraged Rupert and myself in 
idleness, and a desultory manner of mis- 
spending hours that could never be re- 
called. The first time I ever played 
truant was under the patronage of Neb, 
who decoyed me away from my books 
te go nutting on the mountain, stoutly 
maintaining that chestnuts were just as 
good as the spelling-book, or any primer 
that could be bought in York. 

I have forgotten to mention that the 
death of my mother, which occurred in 
the autumn, brought about an immediate 
change in the condition of our domestic 
economy. Grace was too young, being 
only fourteen, to preside over such a house- 
hold, and I could be of little use either in 
the way of directing or advising. Mr. 
Hardinge, who had received a letter to 


that effect from the dying saint, that was 
_ only put into his hand the day after the 


funeral, with a view to give her request 
the greater weight, rented the rectory, 
and came to Clawbonny to live, bringing 
with him both his children. My mother 
knew that his presence would be of the 
greatest service to the orphans she left 
behind her ; while the money saved from 
his own household expenses might enable 
this single-minded minister of the altar to 
lay by a hundred or two for Lucy, who, at 
his demise, might otherwise be left with- 
out a penny, as it was then said, cents 
not having yet come much into fashion. 

This removal gave Grace and me much 
pleasure, for she was as fond of Lucy as I 
was of Rupert, and, to tell the truth, so 
was I, too. Four happier young people 
were not to be found in the State than we 
thus became, each and all of us finding in 
the arrangement exactly the association 
which was most agreeable to our feelings. 


_ Previously, we only saw each other every 


day; now, we saw each other all day. 
At night we separated at an early hour, 
it is true, each having his or her room; 
but it was to meet at a still earlier 
hour the next morning, and to resume 
our amusements in company. From 
study, all of us were relieved for a 
month or two, and we wandered through 
the fields, nutted, gathered fruit, or saw 
others gather it as well as the crops, 
taking as much exercise as possible in 
the open air, equally for the good of 
our bodies and the lightening of our 
Spirits. 

I do not think vanity, or any feeling 
connected with self-love, misleads me, 
when I say it would have been difficult to 


~ find four young people more likely to at- 


tract the attention of a passer-by than we 
four were, in the fall of 1797. As for Ru- 


pert Hardinge, he resembled his mother, 
and was singularly handsome in face, as 


well as graceful in movements. He had 


a native gentility of air, of which he knew 


how to make the most, and a readiness of 


- tongue and a flow of spirits that rendered 
_ him an agreeable, if not a very instructive 


companion. I was not ill-looking, myself, 


though far from possessing the striking 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


241 


countenance of my young associate. In 
manliness, strength, and activity, how- 
ever, I had essentially the advantage over 
him, few youths of my age surpassing me 
in masculine qualities of this nature, after 
I had passed my twelfth year. My hair 
was a dark auburn, and it was the only 
thing about my face, perhaps, that would 
cause a stranger to notice it; but this 
hung about my temples and down my 
neck in rich ringlets, until frequent appli- 
cations of the scissors brought it into 
something like subjection. It never lost 
its beauty entirely, and though now white 
as snow, it is still admired. But Grace 
was the one of the party whose personal 
appearance would be most likely to attract 
attention. Her face beamed with sensi- 
bility and feeling, being one of those 
countenances on which Nature sometimes 
delights to impress the mingled radiance, 
sweetness, truth, and sentiment, that men 
ascribe to angels. Her hair was lighter 
than mine; her eyes of a heavenly blue, 


all softness and tenderness; her cheeks 


just of the tint of the palest of the colored 
roses ; and her smile so full of gentleness 
and feeling, that, again and again, it has 
controlled my ruder and more violent 
emotions, when they were fast getting 
the mastery. In form, some persons 
might have thought Grace, in a slight 
degree, too fragile, though her limbs 
would have been delicate models for the 
study of a sculptor. 

Lucy, too, had certainly great perfec- 
tion, particularly in figure; though in 
the crowd of beauty that has been so pro- 
fusely lavished on the youthful in this 
country, she would not have been at all 
remarked in a large assembly of young 
American girls. Her face was pleasing, 
nevertheless; and there was a piquant 
contrast between the raven blackness of 
her hair, the deep blue of her eyes, and 
the dazzling whiteness of her skin. Her 
color, too, was high, and changeful with 
her emotions. As for teeth, she had a set 
that one might have traveled weeks to 
meet with their equals; and, though she 
seemed totally unconscious of the advan- 
tage, she had a natural manner of show- 
ing them that would have made a far less 


242 WORKS Of’ 
interesting face altogether agreeable. 
Her voice and laugh, too, when happy 
and free from care, were joyousness itself. 

It would be saying too much, perhaps, 
to assert that any human being was ever 
totally indifferent to his or her personal 
appearance. Still, I do not think either 
of our party, Rupert alone excepted, ever 
thought on the subject, unless as it related 
to others, down to the period of which I 
am now writing. I knew, and saw, and 
felt that my sister was far more beautiful 
than any of the young girls of her age 
and condition that I had seen in her so- 
ciety ; and I had pleasure and pride in the 
fact. I knew that I resembled her in 
some respects, but I was never coxcomb 
enough ,to imagine I had half her good 
looks, even allowing for difference of sex. 
My own conceit, so far as I then had any 
—plenty of it came a year or two later— 
but my conceit, in 1797, rather ran in the 
direction of my athletic properties, phys- 
ical force, which was unusually great for 
sixteen, and stature. As for Rupert, [ 
would not have exchanged these manly 
qualities for twenty times his good looks, 
and a thought of envy never crossed my 
mind on the subject. 

I fancied it might be well enough for a 
parson to be a little delicate, and a good 
deal handsome; but for one who intended 
to knock about the world as I had it 
already in contemplation to do, strength, 
health, vigor, courage, and activity were 
much more to be desired than beauty. 

Lucy I never thought of as handsome 
at all. I saw she was pleasing ; fancied 
she was even more so to me than to any 
one else; and I never looked upon her 
sunny, cheerful, and yet perfectly feminine 
face, without a feeling of serenity and 
happiness. As for her honest eyes, they 
invariably met my own with an open 
frankness that said, as plainly as eyes 
could say anything, that there was noth- 
ing to be concealed. 


FENIMORE COOPER. 


CHAPTER II. 


‘‘Cease to persuade, my loving Proteus; 
Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits; — 
I rather would entreat thy company 
To see the wonders of the world abroad.” 

—Two GENTLEMEN OF—CLAWBONNY. 


DURING the year that succeeded after I 
was prepared for Yale, Mr. Hardinge had 
pursued a very judicious course with my 
education. Instead of pushing me into 
books that were to be read in the regular 
course of the institution, with the idea of 
lightening my future labors, which would 
only have been providing excuses for 
future idleness, we went back to the ele- 
mentary works, until even he was satis- 
fied that nothing more remained to be 
done in that direction. I had my two 
grammars literally by heart, notes and 
all. Then we revised as thoroughly as 
possible, reading everything anew, and 
leaving no passage unexplained. I learned 
to scan, too, a fact that was sufficient 
to make a reputation for a scholar, in 
America, half a century since.* After this 
we turned our attention to mathemat- 
ics, a science Mr. Harding rightly enough 
thought there was no danger of my ac- 
quiring too thoroughly. We mastered 


arithmetic, of which I had a good deal of — 


previous knowledge, in a few weeks, and 
then I went through trigonometry, with 
some of the more useful problems in ge- 
ometry. This was the point at which I 
had arrived when my mother’s death oc- 
curred. 


As for myself, I frankly admit a strong — 


disinclination to be learned. The law I 
might be forced to study, but practicing 
it was a thing my mind has long been 
made up never to do. 
vein of obstinacy in my disposition that 
would have been very likely to carry me 
through in such a determination even had 


*The writer’s master taught him to scan Virgil 
in 1801. This gentleman was a graduate of Oxford. 
In 1803, the class to which the writer then belonged 
in Yale, was the first that ever attempted to scan 
in that institution. The quantities were in dis- 
credit in this country years after this, though Col- 
umbia and Harvard were a little in advance of 
Yale. All that was ever done in the last college, 
during the writer’s time, was to scan the ordinary 
hexameter of Homer and Virgil. 


There was a small 


' 


5 


é 


Oy ee ee Mie 


my mother lived, though deference to her 
wishes would certainly have carried me as 
far as the license. Even now she was no 
more, I was anxious to ascertain whether 
she had left any directions or requests on 
the subject, either of which would have 
been laws to me. I talked with Rupert 
on this matter, and was a little shocked 
with the levity with which he treated it. 
“What difference can it make to your 
" parents, now,’’ he said with an emphasis 
that grated on my nerves, ‘‘ whether you 
become a lawyer, or a merchant, or a 
doctor, or stay here on your farm and be 
a farmer, like your father ? ”’ 

_ ‘My father had been a sailor,’’ I an- 
swered, quick as lightning. 

“True; and a noble, manly, gentle- 
man-like calling it is! I never see a sailor 
that I do not envy him his advantages. 
Why, Miles, neither of us has ever been in 
town even, while your mother’s boatmen, 
or your own as they are now, go there 
regularly once a week. I would give the 
world to be a sailor.”’ 

“You, Rupert! Why, you know that 
your father intends, or rather wishes, that 
you should become a clergyman.” 

“A pretty appearance a young man of 
my figure would make in the pulpit, Miles, 
or wearing a surplice. No, no; there 
have been two Hardinges in the Church in 
this century, andI have a fancy also to 
the sea. I suppose you know that my 
great-grandfather was a captain in the 
navy, and he brought hzs son up a par- 
son; now turn about 1s fair play, and the 
_ parson ought to give a son back to a man- 
_of-war. I’ve been reading the lives of 
naval men, and it’s surprising how many 
_clergymen’s sons, in England, go into the 
“navy, and how many sailors’ sons get to 
_ be priests.”’ 

_ “But there is no navy in this country 
~now—not even a single ship-of-war, I be- 
- lieve.’’ 

_ “That is the worst of it. Congress did 
pass a law, two or three years since, to 
_ build some frigates, but they have never 
been launched. Now Washington has 
gone out of office I suppose we shall never 
Nave anything good in the country.”’ 

_ I revered the name of Washington, in 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


243 


common with the whole country, but I did 
not see the sequitur. Rupert, however, 
cared little for logical inferences, usually 
asserting such things as he wished, and 
wishing such as he asserted. After a 
short pause, he continued the discourse. 
“You are now substantially your own 
master,’ he said, ‘‘and can do as you 
please. Should you go to sea and not like 
it, you have only to come back to this 
place, where you will be just as much the 
master as if you had remained here super- 
intending cattle, cutting hay, and fatten- 
ing pork, the whole time.”’ 

‘“‘T am not my own master, Rupert, 
any more than you are, yourself. I am 
your father’s ward, and must so remain 
for more than five years to come. Iam 
just as much under his control as you, 
yourself.’’ 

Rupert laughed at this, and tried to 
persuade me it would be a good thing 
to relieve his worthy father of all re- 
sponsibility in the affair, if I had seri- 
ously determined never to go to Yale, or 
to be a lawyer, by going off to sea clan- 
destinely, and returning when I was 
ready. If Il ever was to make a sailor, no 
time was to be lost; for all with whom 
he had conversed assured him the period 
of hfe when such things were best learned 
was between sixteen and twenty. This | 
thought probable enough, and I parted 
from my friend with a promise of convers- 
ing further with him. on the subject at an 
early opportunity. 

I am almost ashamed to confess that 
Rupert’s artful sophism nearly blinded 
my eyes to the true distinction between 
right and wrong. If Mr. Hardinge really 
felt himself bound by my father’s wishes 
to educate me for the bar, and my own 
repugnance to the profession was uncon- 
querable, why should I not relieve him 
from the responsibility at once by assum- 
ing the right to judge for myself, and act 
accordingly ? So far as Mr. Hardinge 
was concerned, I had little difficulty in 
coming to a conclusion, though the pro- 
found deference I still felt for my father’s 
wishes, and more especially for those of 
my sainted mother, had a hold on my 
heart, and an influence on my conduct, 


244 


that was not so easily disposed of. I de- 
termined to have a frank conversation 
with Mr. Hardinge, therefore, in order to 
ascertain how far either of my parents 
had expressed anything that might be 
considered obligatory to me. My plan 
went as far as to reveal my own desire to 
be a sailor, and to see the world, but not 
to let it be known that I might go off 
without his knowledge, as this would not 
be absolutely relieving the excellent divine 
*‘from all responsibility in the premises,”’ 
as was contemplated in the scheme of his 
own son. 

An opportunity soon occurred, when I 
broached the subject by asking Mr. Har- 
dinge whether my father, in his will, had 
ordered that I should be sent to Yale, 
and there be educated for the bar. He 
had done nothing of the sort. Had he 
left any particular request, writing, or 
message on the subject, at all? Not that 
Mr. Hardinge knew. It is true, the last 
had heard his friend, once or twice, make 
some general remark which would lead 
one to suppose that Captain Wallingford 
had some vague expectations I might go 
to the bar, but nothing further. My mind 
felt vastly relieved by these admissions, 
for | knew my mother’s tenderness too 
well to anticipate that she would dream 
of absolutely dictating in a matter that 
was so clearly connected with my own 
happiness and tastes. When questioned 
on this last point, Mr. Hardinge did not 
hesitate to say that my mother had con- 
versed with him several times concerning 
her views, as related to my career in life. 
She wished me to go to Yale, and then to 
read law, even though I did not practice. 
As soon as this much was said, the con- 
scientious servant of God paused, to note 
the effect on me. Reading disappoint- 
ment in my countenance, I presume, he 
immediately added, ‘‘ But your mother, 
Miles, laid no restraint on you; for she 
knew it was you who was to follow the 
career, and not herself. ‘I should as soon 
think of commanding whom he was to 
marry, as to think of forcing a profession 
on him,’ she added. ‘Heis the one who 
is to decide this, and he only. We may 
try to guide and influence him, but not go 


_— 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


beyond this. I leave you, dear sir, to do 
ali you think best in this matter, certain 
that your own wisdom will be aided by 
the providence of a kind Master.’ ”’ 

I now plainly told Mr. Hardinge my 
desire to see the world, and to be a sailor. | 
The divine was astounded at this declara- 
tion, and I saw that he was grieved. I 
believe some religious objections were 
connected with his reluctance to consent 
to my following the sea, asa calling. At 
any rate, it was easy to discover that 
these objections were lasting and> pro- 
found. In that day, few Americans tray- 
eled, by way of an accomplishment, at all ; 
and those few belonged to a class in 
society so much superior to mine as to 
render it absurd to think of sending me 
abroad with similar views. Nor would 
my fortune justify such an expenditure. 
I was well enough off to be a comfortable 
and free housekeeper, and as independent 
as a king on my own farm; living in 
abundance, nay, in superfluity, so far as 
all the ordinary wants were concerned ; 
but men hesitated a little about setting 
up for gentlemen at large, in the year 
1797. The country was fast getting rich, 
it is true, under the advantages of its 
neutral position; but it had not yet been 
long enough emancipated from its embar- 
rassments to think of playing the nabob 
on eight hundred pounds currency a year. 
The interview terminated with a strong 
exhortation from my guardian not to 
think of abandoning my books for any 


project as visionary and useless as the © 


hope of seeing the world in the character 
of a common sailor. 

IT related all this to Rupert, who, I now 
perceived for the first time, did not hesi- 


tate to laugh at some of his father’s no- — 


tions, as puritanical and exaggerated. He 
maintained that every one was the best 
judge of what he liked, and that the sea 
had produced quite as fair a proportion of 
saints as the land. He was not certain, 
considering the great difference there was 
in numbers, that more good men might 
not be traced in connection with the ocean 
than in connection with any other pursuit. — 


“Take the lawyers, now, for instance, — 


; 
4 
. 
: 


Miles,’’ he said, ‘‘and what can you make : 


4 


PS Sia eo 


RN OR es 


ie ag 


- PPE ee eee oS 


- Rupert. 


Own powers of endurance. 


AFPLOAT AND ASHORE. 


out of them, in the way of religion, I 
should like to know? They have their 


consciences out at so much per diem, and 


talk and reason just as zealously for the 
wrong as they do for the right.”’ 

*““By George, that is true enough, 
There is old David Dockett, I 
remember to have heard Mr. Hardinge 
say, always did double duty for his fee, 
usually acting as witness as well as advo- 
cate. They tell me he will talk by the 
hour of facts that he and his clients get 
up between them, and look the whole time 
as if he believed all he said to be true.’’ 

Rupert laughed at this sally, and pushed 
the advantage it gave him by giving sev- 
eral other examples to prove how much 
his father was mistaken by supposing that 
a man was to save his soul from perdition 
simply by getting admitted to the bar. 
After discussing the matter a little longer, 


to my astonishment, Rupert came out. 


with a plain proposal that he and I should 
elope, go to New York, and ship as fore- 
mast-lads in some Indiaman, of which 
there were then many sailing, at the 
proper season, from that port. I did not 
dislike the idea, so far as I was myself 
concerned ; but the thought of accom- 
panying Rupert in such an adventure 
startled me. I knew I was sufficiently 
secure of the future to be able to risk a 
little at the present moment; but such 
was not the case with my friend. If I 
made a false step at so early an age, I had 
only to return to Clawbonny, where I was 
certain to find competence and a home; 
but, with Rupert, it was very different. 
Of the moral hazards I ran, I then knew 
nothing, and, of course, they gave me no 
concern. Like all inexperienced persons, 
I supposed myself too strong in virtue to 
be in any danger of contamination; and 
this portion of the adventure was re- 


garded with the self-complacency with 


which the untried are apt to regard their 
I thought 
myself morally invulnerable. 

But Rupert might find it difficult to re- 
trace any serious error made at his time 
of life. This consideration would have 
put an end to the scheme, so far as my 
companion was concerned, had not the 


245 


thought suggested itself that I should 
always have it in my own power to aid 
my friend. Letting something of this 
sort escape me, Rupert was not slow in 
enlarging on it, though this was done with 
great tact and discretion. He proved 
that, by the time we both came of age, he 
would be qualified to command a ship, 
and that, doubtless, I would naturally de- 
sire to invest some of my spare cash in a 
vessel. The accumulations of my estate 
alone would do this much, within the next 
five years, and then a career of wealth 
and prosperity would lie open before us 
both. 

‘It isa good thing, Miles, no doubt,’ 
continued this tempting sophist, ‘‘ to have 
money at use, and a large farm, and a 
mill, and such things; but many a ship 
nets more money in a single voyage than 
your whole estate would sell for. Those 
that begin with nothing, too, they tell 
me, are the most apt to succeed; and if 
we go off with our clothes only, we shall 
begin with nothing too. Success may be 
said to be certain. I like the notion of 
beginning with nothing, it is so Ameri- 
eanel./7 

It is, in truth, rather a besetting weak- 
ness of America to suppose that men who 
have never had any means for qualifying 
themselves for particular pursuits are the 
most likely to succeed in them ; and espe- 
cially to fancy that those who ‘‘begin poor’’ 
are in a much better way for acquiring 
wealth than they who commence with some 
means; and I was disposed to lean to this 
latter doctrine myself, though I confess I 
cannot recall an instance in which any 
person of my acquaintance has given away 
his capital, however large and embarrass- 
ing it may have been, in order to start 
fair with his poorer competitors. Never- 
theless, there was something taking, to 
my imagination, in the notion of being 
the fabricator of my own fortune. In 
that day, it was easy to enumerate every 
dwelling on the banks of the Hudson that 
aspired to be called a seat, and I had often 
heard them named by those who were 
familiar with the river. I liked the 
thought of erecting a house on the Claw- 
bonny property that might aspire to equal 


246 


claims, and to be the owner of a seat; 
though only after I had acquired the 
means, myself, to carry out such a pro- 
ject. At present, [ owned only a house ; 
my ambition was to own a Seat. 

In a word, Rupert and I canvassed this 
matter in every possible way for a month, 
now leaning to one scheme, and now to 
another, until I determined to lay the 
whole affair before the two girls, under a 
solemn pledge of secrecy. AS we passed 
hours in company daily, opportunities 
were not wanting to effect this purpose. 
I thought my friend was a little shy on 
this project ; but I had so much affection 
for Grace, and so much confidence in 
Lucy’s sound judgment, that I was not 
to be turned aside from the completion of 
my purpose. It is now more than forty 
years since the interview took place in 
which this confidenee was bestowed ; but 
every minute occurrence connected with 
itisas fresh in my mind as if the whole 
had taken place only yesterday. 

We were all four of us seated on a rude 
bench that my mother had caused to be 
placed under the shade of an enormous 
oak that stood on the most picturesque 
spot, perhaps, on the whole farm, and 
which commanded a distant view of one of 
the loveliest reaches of the Hudson. Our 
side of the river, in general, does not pos- 
sess as fine views as the eastern, for the 
reason that all our own broken, and in 
some instances magnificent background of 
mountains, fills up the landscape for our 
neighbors, while we are obliged to receive 
the picture. as it is set in a humbler 
frame; but there are exquisite bits to be 
found on the western bank, and this was 
one of the very best of them. The water 
was as placid as molten silver, and the 
sails of every vessel in sight were hang- 
ing in listless idleness from their several 
spars, representing commerce asleep. 
Grace had a deep feeling for natural 
scenery, and she had a better mode of ex- 
pressing her thoughts, on such occasions, 
than is usual with girls of fourteen. She 
first drew our attention to the view by 
one of her strong, eloquent bursts of eu- 
logium; and Lucy met the remark with 
a truthful, simple answer, that showed 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


abundant sympathy with the sentiment, 
though with less of exaggeration of man- 
ner and feeling, perhaps. I seized the 
moment as favorable for my purpose, and 
spoke out. 

“If you admire a vessel so much, 
Grace,’’ I said, ‘‘you will probably be 
glad to hear that I think of becoming a 
sailor.”’ 

A silence of near two minutes succeeded, 
during which time I affected to be gazing 
at the distant sloops, and then I ventured 
to steal a glance at my companion. I 


found Grace’s mild eyes earnestly riveted — 
and, turning from their 


on my face; 
anxious expression with a little uneasi- 
ness, I encountered those of Lucy looking 
at me as intently as if she doubted 
whether her ears had not deceived her. 


‘A sailor, Miles!’’—my sister now 


slowly repeated—‘‘I thought it settled 
you were to study law.”’ 

‘‘ As far from that as we are from En- 
gland; I’ve fully made up my mind to see 
the world if I can; and Rupert, here——”’ 

‘What of Rupert, here?’’ Grace 
asked, a sudden change again coming 
over her sweet countenance, though I was 
altogether too inexperienced to wunder- 
stand its meaning. ‘‘ He is certainly to 
be a clergyman—his dear father’s assist- 
ant, and a long, long, very long time 
hence, his successor.’’ 

I could see that Rupert was whistling 
on a low key, and affecting to look cool ; 
but my sister’s solemn, earnest, astonished 
manner had more effect on us both, I be- 
lieve, than either would have been willing 
to own. 

‘Come, girls,’ I said at length, put- 
ting the best face on the matter, ‘‘ there 
is no use in keeping secrets from you—but 
remember that what I am about to tell 
you 7s a secret, and on no account is to be 
betrayed.”’ 

“To no one but Mr. Hardinge,” an- 
swered Grace. ‘‘If you intend to be a 
sailor, he ought to know it.’ 

‘*That comes from looking at our duties 
superficially’’—I had caught this phrase 
from my friend—‘‘ and not distinguishing 
properly between their shadows and their 
substance.”’ 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


“Duties superficially! Ido not under- 
stand you, Miles. Certainly Mr. Har- 
dinge ought to be told what profession 
you mean to follow. Remember, brother, 


he now fills the place of a parent to you.”’ 


“He is not more my parent than 
Rupert’s—I fancy you will admit that 
much !”’ 

«Rupert, again! What has Rupert to 
do with your going to sea ? ”’ 
© Promise me, then, to keep my secret, 
and you shall know all; both you and 
Lucy must give me your words. I know 
you will not break them when once 


‘given.”’ 


—S— ee a's 


*““ Promise him, Grace,’’ said Lucy, in a 
low tone, and a voice that, even at that 
age, I could perceive was tremulous. ‘If 
we promise, we shall learn everything, 
and then may have some effect on these 
headstrong boys by our advice.”’ 

“Boys! Yow cannot mean, Lucy, that 
Rupert is not to be a clergyman — your 
father’s assistant ; that Rupert means to 
be a sailor, too? ’’ 

<«*One never knows what boys will do. 
Let us promise them, dear; then we can 
better judge.”’ 

‘“‘T do promise you, Miles,’’ said my 
sister, in a voice so solemn as almost to 
frighten me. 

“And I, Miles,’’ added Lucy; but it was 
so low, I had to lean forward to catch the 
syllables. : 

«This is honest and right ’’—it was 
honest, perhaps, but very wrong—‘‘ and 
it convinces me that you are both reason- 
able, and will be of use tous. Rupert and 
I have both made up our minds, and 
intend to be sailors.”’ 

Exclamations followed from both girls, 
and another long silence succeeded. 

“‘As for the law, hang all law!’’ I con- 
tinued, hemming,, and determined to speak 
likeaman. ‘I neverheard of a Walling- 
ford who was a lawyer.”’ 

«But you have both heard of Hardinges 
who were clergymen,”’ said Grace, en- 
deavoring to smile, though the expression 
of her countenance was so painful that 
even now I dislike to recall it. 

‘And sailors, too,’’ put in Rupert, a 
little more stoutly than I thought possible. 


247 


‘My father’s grandfather was an officer 
in the navy.”’ 

“And my father was a sailor himself— 
in the navy, too.’’ 

‘* But there is no navy in this country 
now, Miles,’’ returned Lucy, in an expos- 
tulating tone. 

‘“What of that! There are plenty of 
ships. The ocean is just as big, and the 
world just as wide, as if we had a navy to 
cover the first. I see no great objection 
on that account—do you, Ru? ”’ 

‘Certainly not. What we want is, to 
go to sea, and that can be done in an 
Indiaman as well as in a man-of-war.’’ 

“Yes,’’ said I, stretching myself witha 
little importance. ‘‘I fancy an Indiaman, 
a vessel that goes all the way to Calcutta, 
round the Cape of Good Hope, in the 
track of Vasquez de Gama, isn’t exactly 
an Albany sloop.”’ 

‘““Who is Vasquez de Gama?” de- 
manded Lucy, with so much quickness as 
to surprise me. 

“Why, a noble Portuguese, who dis- 
covered the Cape of Good Hope, and first 
sailed round it, and then went to the 
Indies. You see, girls, even nobles are 
sailors, and why should not Rupert and I 
be sailors ? ”’ 

‘It is not that, Miles,’’ my sister an- 
swered ; ‘‘ every honest calling is respect- 
able. Have you and Rupert spoken to 
Mr. Hardinge on this subject ?”’ 

‘* Not exactly—not spoken—hinted only 
—that is, blindly—not so as to be under- 
stood, perhaps.”’ 

‘“‘He will never consent, boys!’? and 
this was uttered with something very like 
an air of triumph. 

‘We have no intention of asking it of 
him, Grace. Rupert and I intend to be 
off next week, without saying a word to 
Mr. Hardinge on the subject.’’ 

Another long, eloquent silence succeed- 
ed, during which I saw Lucy bury her face 
in her apron, while the tears openly ran 
down my sister’s cheek. 

“You do not—cannot mean to do any- 
thing so cruel, Miles?’’ Grace at length 
said. 

“It is exactly because it will not be 
cruel, that we intend to do it.”? Here I 


248 


nudged Rupert with my elbow, as a hint 
that I wanted assistance; but he made 
no other reply than an answering nudge, 
which I interpreted into as much as if he 
had said in terms, ‘‘ You’ve got into the 
scrape in your own way, and you may get 
out of itin the same manner.”’ ‘“‘ Yes,”’ 
I continued, finding succor hopeless — 
“<ves, that’s just it.’’ 

“What is just it, Miles? You speak in 
a way to show that you are not satisfied 
with yourself—neither you nor Rupert is 
satisfied with himself, if the truth were 
known.’’ 

“‘T not satisfied with myself! Rupert 
not satisfied with himself! You were 

never more mistaken in your life, Grace. 
If there ever were two boys in New York 
State that were well satisfied with them- 
selves they are just Rupert and I.’’ 

Here Lucy raised her face from her 
apron and burst into a laugh, the tears 
filling her eyes all the while. 

«‘ Believe them, dear Grace,’’ she said. 
“They are precisely two self-satisfied, 
silly fellows, that have got some ridiculous 
notions in their heads, and then begin to 
talk about ‘superficial views of duties,’ 
and all such nonsense. My father will 
set it all right, and the boys will have had 
their talk.’’ 

** Not so fast, Miss Lucy, if you please. 
Your father will not know a syllable of 
the matter until you tell him all about it, 
after we are gone. We intend to ‘relieve 
him from all responsibility in the premi- 
ses.’ ’’ 

This last sounded very profound, and a 
little magnificent, to my imagination ; and 
I looked at the girls to note the effect. 
Grace was weeping, and weeping only; 
but Lucy looked saucy and mocking, even 
while the tears bedewed her smiling face, 
as rain sometimes falls while the sun is 
shining’. 4 

““Yes,’’ Trepeated, with emphasis, “ ‘of 
all responsibility in the premises.’ I hope 
that is plain English, and good English, 
although I know that Mr. Hardinge has 
been trying to make you both so simple in 
your language, that you turn up your 
noses at a profound sentiment, whenever 
you hear one.”’ 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


In 1797 the grandiose had by no means 
made the deep invasion into the every-day 
language of the country that it has since 
done. Anything of the sublime, or of the 
recondite school was a good deal more apt 
to provoke a smile than it is to-day—the 
improvement proceeding, as I have under- 
stood through better judges than myself, 
from the great melioration of mind and 
manners that is to be traced to the 
speeches in Congress, and to profundities 
of the newspapers. Rupert, however, 
frequently ornamented his ideas, and, I 
may truly say, everything ambitious that 
adorned my discourse was derived from 
his example. I almost-thought Lucy im- 
pertinent for presuming to laugh at senti- 
ments which came from such a source, 
and, by way of settling my own correct- 
ness of thought and terms, I made no 
bones of falling back on my great author- 
ity, by fairly pointing him out. 

“‘T thought so!’’ exclaimed Lucy, now 
laughing with all her heart, though a little 
hysterically ; ‘I thought so, for this is 
just like Rupert, who is always talking to 
me about ‘assuming the responsiblity,’ 
and ‘conclusions in the premises,’ and all 
such nonsense. Leave the boys to my 
father, Grace, and he will ‘assume the 
responsibility’ of ‘concluding the pre- 
mises,’ and the whole of the foolish 
scheme along with it!” 

This would*have provoked me, had not 
Grace manifested so much sisterly interest 
in my welfare that I was soon persuaded 
to tell her—that minx Lucy overhearing 
every syllable, though I had half a mind 
to tell her to go away—all about our 
project. 

‘“ You see,’’ I continued, ‘if Mr. Har- 
dinge knew anything about our plan, peo- 
ple will say he ought to have stopped us. 
‘He a clergyman, and not able to keep 
two lads of sixteen or seventeen from run- 
ning away and going to sea!’ they will 
say, aS if it were so easy to prevent two 
spirited youths from seeing the world. 
Whereas, if he knew nothing about it, no- 
body can blame him. That is what I call 
‘relieving him from the responsibility.’ 


Now, we intend to be off next week, or as. 


soon as the jackets and trousers that are 


i 


AFLOAT AND 


making for us, under the pretense of be- 


ing boat-dresses, are finished. We mean 
to go down the river in the sail-boat, tak- 
ing Neb with us to bring the boat back. 


~ Now you know the whole story, there will 


sailed, you can tell him everything. 


be no occasion to leave a letter for Mr. 
Hardinge ; for, three hours after we have 
We 
shall be gone a year; at the end of that 
time you may look for us both; and glad 
enough shall we all be to see each other. 
Rupert and I will be young men then, 
though you call us boys now.”’ 

This last picture a good deal consoled 
the girls. Rupert, too, who had unac- 
countably kept back, throwing the labor- 
ing-oar altogether on me, came to the 
rescue, and, with his subtle manner and 
oily tongue, began to make the wrong 
appear the right. I do not think he 
blinded his own sister in the least, but I 
fear he had too much influence over mine. 
Lucy, though all heart, was as much 
matter-of-fact as her brother was a 
sophist. He was ingenious in glozing 
over truths; she, nearly unerring in de- 
tecting them. I never knew a greater 
contrast between two human beings, than 
there was between these two children of 
the same parents, in this particular. I 
have heard that the son took after the 
mother, in this respect, and that the 
daughter took after the father; though 
Mrs. Hardinge died too early to have had 
any moral influence on the character of 
her children. 

We came again and again to the dis- 
cussion of our subject during the next 
two or three days. The girls endeavored 
earnestly to persuade us to ask Mr. Har- 
dinge’s permission for the step we were 
about to undertake; but allin vain. We 
lads were so thoroughly determined to 
‘relieve the divine from all the responsi- 
bility in the premises,’’ that they might 
as well have talked to stones. We knew 
these just-minded, sincere, upright girls 
would not betray us, and continued ob- 
durate to the last. As we expected, as 
soon as convinced their importunities 
were ' useless, they seriously set about 


_ doing all they could to render us com- 


4 
4 
¢ 

r 

” 


1 


fortable. They made us duck bags to 


ASHORE. 249 


hold our clothes, two each, and mended 
our linen, stockings, etc., and even helped 
to procure us some clothes more suited to 
the contemplated expedition than most of 
those we already possessed. Our “long 
togs,’’ indeed, we determined to leave 
behind us, retaining just one suit each, 
and that of the plainest quality. In the 
course of a week everything was ready, 
our bags well-lined, being concealed in 
the storehouse at the landing. Of this 
building I could at any moment procure 
the key, my authority as heir-apparent 
being very considerable, already, on the 
farm. 

As for Neb, he was directed to have the 
boat all ready for the succeeding Tuesday 
evening, it being the plan to sail the day 
after the Wallingford of Clawbonny (this 
was the name of the sloop) had gone on 
one of her regular trips, in order to escape 
a pursuit. I had made all the calculations 
about the tide, and knew that the Wall- | 
ingford would go out about nine in the 
morning, leaving us to follow before mid- 
night. It was necessary to depart at 
night and when the wharf was clear, in 
order to avoid observation. 

Tuesday was an uneasy, nervous, and 
sad day for us all, Mr. Hardinge excepted. - 
As the last had not the smallest distrust, 
he continued calm, quiet, and cheerful as 
was his wont. Rupert had a conscience- 
stricken and furtive air about him, while 
the eyes of the two dear girls were scarce- 
ly a moment without tears. Grace 
seemed now the most composed of the 
two, and I have since suspected that she 
had had a private conversation with my 
ingenious friend, whose convincing powers 
were of a very extraordinary quality, 
when he set about their use in downright 
earnest. As for Lucy, she seemed to me 
to have been weeping the entire day. 

At nine o’clock it was customary for 
the whole family to separate, after pray- 
ers.’ Most of us went to bed at that early 
hour, though Mr. Hardinge himself sel- 
dom sought his pillow until midnight. 
This habit compelled us to use a good deal 
of caution in getting out of the house, in 
which Rupert and myself succeeded, how- 
ever, without discovery just as the clock 


250 WORKS 
struck eleven. We had taken leave of 
the girls in a hasty manner, in a passage, 
shaking hands, and each of us kissing his 
own sister, as he affected to retire for the 
night. To own the truth, we were much 
gratified in finding how reasonably Grace 
and Lucy behaved on the occasion, and 
not a little surprised, for we had expected 
a scene, particularly with the former. 

We walked away from the house with 
heavy hearts, few leaving the paternal 
roof for the first time, to enter upon the 
chances of the world, without a deep sense 
of the dependence in which they had 
hitherto lived. We walked fast and si- 
lently, and reached the wharf in less than 
half an hour, a distance of near two miles. 
I was just on the point of speaking to 
Neb, whose figure I could see in the boat, 
when I caught a glimpse of two female 
forms within six feet of us. There were 
Grace and Lucy, in tears, both waiting 
our arrival, with a view to see us depart ! 
I confess I was shocked and concerned at 
seeing these two delicate girls so far from 
their home, at such an hour; and my first 
impulse was to see them both safely back 
before I would enter the boat; but to this 
neither of them would consent. All my 
entreaties were thrown away, and I was 
obliged to submit. 

I know not exactly how it happened, 
but of the fact I am certain; odd as it 
may seem, at a moment like that, when 
about to separate, instead of each youth’s 
getting his own sister aside to make his 
last speeches, and say his last say to, 
each of us got his friend’s sister aside. I 
do not mean that we were making love, 
or anything of the sort; we were a little 
too young, perhaps, for that; but we 
obeyed an impulse which, as Rupert would 
have said, ‘‘ produced that result.’’ 

What passed between Grace and her 
companion, Ido not know. As for Lucy 
and myself, it was all plain sailing and 
fair dealing. The excellent creature forced 
on me six gold pieces, which I knew had 
come to her as an heirloom from her 
mother, and which I had often heard her 
declare she never meant to use, unless in 
the last extremity. 
five dollars on earth, and that Rupert had 


She knew I had but|spects the hour of departure. 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


not one; and she offered me this gold. I 
told her Rupert had better take it; no, 
I had better take it. I should use it more 
prudently than Rupert, and would use it 
for the good of both. ‘“‘ Besides, you are 
rich,’’ she said, smiling through her tears, 
‘‘and can repay me—I lend them to you; 
to Rupert I should have to give them.” 
I could not refuse the generous girl, and 
took the money, all half-joes, with a deter- 
mination to repay them with interest. 
Then I folded her to my heart, and kissed 
her six or eight times with fervor, the first 
time I had done such a thing in two years, 
and tore myself away. I do not think 
Rupert embraced Grace, but I confess I 
do not know, although we were standing 
within three or four yards of each other, 
the whole time. 

“Write, Miles—write, Rupert,’’ said the 
sobbing girls, leaning forward from the 
wharf, as we shoved off. It was not so 
dark but we could see their dear forms 
for several minutes, or until a bend in the 
creek put a dark mass of earth between us 
and them. 

Such was the manner of my departure 
from Clawbonny, inthe month of Septem- 
ber, 1797. IL wanted a few days of being 
seventeen ; Rupert was six months older, 
and Neb was his senior, again, by near a 
twelvemonth. Everything was in the boat 
but our hearts. Mine, I can truly say, re- 
mained with the two beloved creatures we 
left on the wharf; while Rupert’s was be- 
twixt and between, I fancy—seldom abso- 
lutely deserting the dear tenement in which 
it was incased by nature. 


_—_—___—_ 


CHAPTER III. 


‘ There’s a youth in this city, it were a great pity 
That he from our lasses should wonder awa’; 
For he’s bonny and braw, weel-favored witha’, 
And his hair has a natural buckle and a’. 

His coat is the hue of his bonnet so blue; 

His pocket is white as the new-driven snaw; 

His hose they are blae, and his shoon like theslae, 

And his clean siller buckles they dazzle us a’.”’ 
—BURNS. 


~ 


WE had selected our time well, as re- 
It was 
young ebb, and the boat floated swiftly 


* 
4 


down the creek, though the high banks 
of the latter would have prevented our 
feeling any wind, even if there were a 
breeze on the river. Our boat was of 
some size, sloop-rigged and half-decked ; 
but Neb’s vigorous arms made her move 
through the water with some rapidity, 
and, to own the truth, the lad sprung to 
his work like a true runaway negro. I 
was a Skillful oarsman, myself, having 
received many lessons from my father in 
early boyhood, and being in almost daily 
practice for seven months in the year. 
The excitement of the adventure, its ro- 
mance, or what for a short time seemed 
to me to be a romance, and the secret 
apprehension of being. detected, which I 
believe accompanies every clandestine 
undertaking, soon set me in motion also. 
I took one of the oars, and, in less than 
twenty minutes, the Grace and Lucy, for 
so the boat was called, emerged from be- 
tween two high, steep banks, aad entered 
on the broader bosom of the Hudson. 

Neb gave a half-suppressed, negro-like 
ery of exultation, as we shot out from 
our cover, and ascertained that there was 
a pleasant and fair breeze blowing. In 
three minutes we had the jib and main- 
sail on the boat; the helm was up, the 
sheet was eased off, and we were gliding 

- down-stream at the rate of something like 
five miles an hour. I took the helm, al- 
most as a matter of course; Rupert being 
much to indolent to do anything unneces- 
sarily, while Neb was far too humble to 
aspire to such an office while Master Miles 
was there, willing and ready. In that 
day, indeed, it was so much a matter of 
course for a skipper of a Hudson River 
craft to steer, that most of the people who 
lived on the banks of the stream imagined 
that Sir John Jervis, Lord Anson, and 
the other great English admirals of whom 
they had read and heard, usually amused 
themselves with that employment out on 
the ocean. I remember the hearty laugh in 
which my unfortunate father indulged, 
when Mr. Hardinge once asked him how 
he could manage to get any sleep on ac- 
count of this very duty. But we were 
very green, up to Clawbonny, in most 
things that related to the world. 


Pin tt 
7 Bee 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 251 


The hour that succeeded was one of the 
most painful lever passed in my life. I 
recalled my father, his manly frankness, 
his liberal bequests in my favor, and his 
precepts of respect and obedience ; all of 
which, it now seemed to me, I had openly 
dishonored. Then came the image of my 
mother, with her love and sufferings, her 
prayers, and her mild, but earnest exhor- 
tations to be good. I thought I could see 
both these parents regarding me with 
sorrowful, though not with reproachful 
countenances. They appeared to be solic- 
iting my return with a species of silent, 
but not the less eloquent warnings of the 
consequences. Grace and Lucy, and 
their sobs, and admonitions, and entreaties 
to abandon my scheme, and to write, and 
not to remain away long, and all that 
tender interest had induced two warm- 
hearted girls to utter at our parting, 
came fresh and vividly to my mind. The 
recollection proved nearly too much for 
me. Nor did I forget Mr. Hardinge, and 
the distress he would certainly feel when 
he discovered that he had not only lost his 
ward, but his only son. Then Clawbonny 
itself, the house, the orchards, the mead- 
ows, the garden, the mill, and all that 
belonged to the farm began to have a 
double value in my eyes, and to serve as 
so many cords attached to my heart- 
strings, and to remind me that the rover 


‘** Drags at each remove a lengthening chain.” 


I marveled at Rupert’s tranquillity. I 
did not then understand his character as 
thoroughly as I subsequently got to know 
it. All that he most prized was with him 
in the boat, in fact, and this lessened his 
grief at parting from less beloved objects. 
Where Rupert was, there was his paradise. 
As for Neb, I do believe his head was 
over his shoulder, for he affected to sit 
with his face down-stream, so long as the 
hills that lay in the rear of Clawbonny 
could at all be distinguished. This must 
have proceeded from tradition, or instinct, 
or some latent negro quality ; for I do not 
think the fellow fancied he was running 
away. He knew that his two young mas- 
ters were; but he was fully aware he was 
my property, and, no doubt, thought, as 


252 WORKS 
long as he stayed in my company, he was 
in the line of his legitimate duty. Then it 
was my plan that he should return with 
the boat, and, perhaps, these backward 
glances were no more than the shadows 
of coming events, cast, in his case, behind. 

Rupert was indisposed to converse, for, 
to tell the truth, he had eaten a hearty 
supper, and began to feel drowsy; and I 
was too much wrapped up in my own 
busy thoughts to solicit any communica- 
tions. I found a sort of saddened pleasure 
in setting a watch for the night, therefore, 
which had an air of seaman-like duty about 
it, that in a slight degree revived my old 
taste for the profession. It was midnight, 
and I took the first watch myself, bidding 
my two companions to crawl under the 
half-deck and go to sleep. This they both 

did without any parley, Rupert cccupying 
an inner place, while Neb lay with his legs 
exposed to the night air. 

The breeze freshened, and for some 
time I thought it might be necessary to 
reef, though we were running dead before 
the wind. I succeeded in holding on, 
however, and I found the Grace and Lucy 
was doing wonders in my watch. When 
I gave Rupert his call at four o’clock, the 
boat was just approaching two frowning 
mountains, where the river was narrowed 
to a third or fourth of its former width ; 
and, by the appearance of the shores, and 
the dim glimpsesI had caught of a village 
of no great size on the right bank, I knew 
we were in what is called Newburg Bay. 
This was the extent of our former jour- 
neyings south, all three of us having’ once 
before, and only once, been as low as Fish- 
kill Landing, which lies opposite to the 
place that gives this part of the river its 
name. 

Rupert now took the helm, and I went 
to sleep. The wind still continued fresh 
and fair, and I felt no uneasiness on ac- 
count of the boat. It is true, there were 
two parts of the navigation before us, of 
which I had thought a little seriously, but 
not sufficiently so to keep me awake. 
These were the Race, a passage in the 
Highlands, and Tappan Sea; both points 
on the Hudson of which the navigators of 
that classical stream were fond of relating 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


the marvels. The first I knew was formid- 
able only later in the autumn, and as for 
the last, I hoped to enjoy some of its won- 
ders in the morning. In this very justi- 
fiable expectation, I fell asleep. 

Neb did not call me until ten o’clock. 
I afterward discovered that Rupert kept 
the helm for only an hour, and then, cal- 
culating that from five until nine were 
four hours, he thought it a pity the negro 
should not have his share of the glory of 
that night. When I was awakened, it 
was merely to let me know that it was 
time to eat something—Neb would have 
starved before he would precede his young 
master in that necessary occupation—and 
I found Rupert in a deep and pleasant 
sleep at my side. . 

We were in the center of Tappan, and 
the Highlands had been passed in safety. 
Neb expatiated a little oa the difficulties 
of the navigation, the river having many 
windings, besides being bounded by high 
mountains; but, after all, he admitted that — 
there was water enough, wind enough, and 
a road that was plain enough. From this 
moment, excitement kept us wide awake. 
Everything was new, and everything 
seemed delightful. The day was pleasant, 
the wind continued fair, and nothing oc- 
curred to mar our joy. I hada little map, 
one neither particularly accurate, nor very 
well engraved ; and I remember the im- 
portance with which, after having ascer- 
tained the fact myself, I pointed out to my 
two companions the rocky precipices on 
the western bank, as New Jersey! Even 
Rupert was struck with this important 
circumstance. As for Neb, he was actu- 
ally in ecstasies, rolling his large black 
eyes, and showing his white teeth, until 
he suddenly closed his truly coral and 
plump lips, to demand what New Jersey | 
meant. Of course I gratified this laud- 
able desire to obtain knowledge, and Neb 
seemed still more pleased than ever, now 
he had ascertained that New Jersey was 
a State. Traveling was not as much of 
an everyday occupation, at that time, as 


it is now; and it was, in truth, something __ 


for three American lads, all under nine- 
teen, to be able to say that they had seen — 
a State other than their own. 


Notwithstanding the rapid progress we 
had made for the first few hours of our 
undertaking, the voyage was far from 
being ended. About noon the wind came 
out light from the southward, and, having 
a fiood-tide, we were compelled to anchor. 
This made us all uneasy, for, while we 
were stationary, we did not seem to be 
running away. The ebb came again, at 
length, however, and then we made sail, 
and began to turn down with the tide. It 
was near sunset before we got a view of 
the two or three spires that then piloted 
strangers to the town. New York was 
not the ‘‘commercial emporium ”’ in 1796; 
so high-sounding a title, indeed, scarce 
belonging to the simple English of the 
period, it requiring a very great collection 
of half-educated men to venture on so 
ambitious an appellation—the only em- 
porium that existed in America, during 
the last century, being a slop-shop in 
Water Street, and on the Island of Man- 
hattan. 
flight of fancy, indeed, that must have re- 
quired a whole board of aldermen, and an 
extra supply of turtle tosanction. What 
is meant by a literary emporium, I leave 
those editors who are ‘‘ native and to the 
manor born,”’ to explain. 

We first saw the State prison, which 
was then new, and a most imposing edifice, 
according to our notions, as we drew near 
the town. Like the gallows first seen by 
a traveler in entering a strange country, 
it was a pledge of civilization. Neb shook 
his head, as he gazed at it, with a mor- 
alizing air, and said it had a ‘‘ wicked 
look.’’ 

For myself, Town I did not regard it 
altogether without dread. On Rupert it 
made less impression than on any of the 
three. He was always somewhat obtuse 
on the subject of morals.* 

New York, in that. day, and on the 
Hudson side of the town, commenced a 
short distance above Duane Street. Be- 
tween Greenwich, as the little hamlet 


_ *It may be well to tell the European who shall 
happen to read this book, that in Americaa ‘‘State’s 
prison ’’ is not for prisoners of state, but for common 
-Togues ; the term coming from the name borne by 
the local governments. 

‘ 


q 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


Commercial emporium was a | 


209 


around the State prison was called, and 
the town proper, was an interval of a 
mile and a half of open fields, dotted here 
and there with country houses. Much of 
this space was in broken hills, and a few 
piles of lumber lay along the shores. St. 
John’s Church had no existence, and most 
of the ground in its vicinity was in low 
swamp. As we glided along the wharves, 
we caught sight of the first market I had 
then ever seen—such proofs of an ad- 
vanced civilization not having yet made 
their way into the villages of tne interior. 
It was called ‘‘The Bear,’’ from the cir- 
cumstance that the first meat ever exposed 
for sale in it was of that animal, but the 
appellation has disappeared before the 
intellectual refinement of these later times 
—the name of the soldier and statesman, 
Washington, having fairly supplanted 
that of the bear! Whether this great 
moral improvement was brought about 
by the Philosophical Society, or the His- 
torical Society, or ‘The Merchants,’’ or 
the Aldermen of New York, I have never’ 
ascertained. If the latter, one cannot 
but admire their disinterested modesty in 
conferring this notable honor on _ the 
Father of his Country, inasmuch as all 
can see that there never has been a period 
when their own board has not possessed 
distinguished members, every way quali- 
fied to act as godfathers to the most illus- 
trious markets of the republic. 

But Manhattan, in the way of taste, 
has never had justice done it. So pro- 
found is its admiration for all the higher 
qualities, that Franklin and Fulton have 
each a market to himself, in addition to 
this bestowed on Washington. Doubtless 
there would have been Newton Market, 
and Socrates Market, and Solomon Mar- 
ket, but for the patriotism of the town, 
which has forbidden it from going out of 
the hemisphere in quest of names to illus- 
trate. Bacon Market would doubtless 
have been too equivocal to be tolerated, 
under any circumstances. Then Bacon 
was a rogue, though a philosopher, and 
markets are always appropriated to hon- 
est people. At all events, | am rejoiced 
the reproach of having a market called 
“The Bear”’’ has been taken away, as it 


R54 


was tacitly admitting our living near, if 
not absolutely in, the woods. 

We passed the Albany basin, a large 
receptacle for North River craft, that is 
now in the bosom of the town and built 
on, and recognized in it the mast-head of 
the Wallingford. Neb was shown the 
place, for he was to bring the boat round 
to it, and join the sloop, in readiness to 
return in her. We rounded the Battery, 
then a circular strip of grass, witb an 
earthen and wooden breastwork running 
along the margin of the water, leaving a 
narrow promenade on the exterior. This 
brought us to Whitehall, since so cele- 
brated for its oarsmen, where we put in 
fora haven. I had obtained the address 
ofa better sort of sailor-tavern in that 
vicinity, and, securing the boat, we 
shouldered the bags, got a boy to guide 
us, and were soon housed. As it was near 
night, Rupert and I ordered supper, and 
Neb was directed to pull the boat round 
to the sloop, and to return to us in the 
morning; taking care, however, not to 
let our lodgings be known. 

The next day, I own I thought but 
little of the girls, Clawbonny, or Mr. 
Hardinge. Neb was at my bedside before 
I was up, and reported the Grace and 
Inucy safe alongside of the Wallingford, 
and expressed himself ready to wait on 
me in my progress in quest of a ship. As 
this was the moment of action, little was 
said, but we all breakfasted, and sallied 
forth, in good earnest, on the important 
business before us. Neb was permitted to 
follow, but at such a distance as to pre- 
vent his being suspected of belonging to 
our party—a gentleman with a serving- 
man at his heels, not being the candidate 
most likely to succeed in his application 
for a berth in the forecastle. 

So eager was I to belong to some sea- 
going craft, that I would not stop even 
to look at the wonders of the town before 
we took the direction of the wharves. 
Rupert was for pursuing a different policy, 
having an inherent love of the gentleer 
gayeties of a town, but I turned a deaf 
ear to his hints, and this time I was mas- 
ter. He followed me with some reluct- 
ance but follow he did, after some remon- 


WORKS OF FENIMORE 


COOPER. 


strances that bordered on warmth. Any 
inexperienced eye that had seen us pass- 
ing, would have mistaken us for two well- 
looking, smart young sailor boys, who had 
just returned from a profitable voyage, 
and who, well-clad, tidy, and semi-gen- 
teel, were strolling along the wharves as 
admirateurs, not to say critics, of the 
craft. Admirateurs we were, certainly, 
or I was, at least; though knowledge was 
a point on which we were sadly deficient. — 

The trade of America was surprisingly 
active in 1797. It had been preyed upon 
by the two great belligerents of the period, 
England and France, it is true; and cer- 
tain proceedings of the latter nation were 
about to bring the relations of the two 
countries into a very embarrassed state ; 
but still the shipping interest was wonder- 
fully active, and, as a whole, singularly — 
successful. Almost every tide brought 
in or took out ships for foreign ports, and 
scarce a week passed that vessels did not 
arrive from, or sail for, all the different 
quarters of the world. An Indiaman, — 
however, was our object; the voyage 
being longer, the ships better, and the 
achievement greater, than merely to cross 
the Atlanticand return. We accordingly 
proceeded toward the Fly Market, in the 
vicinity of which, we had been given to— 
understand, some three or four vessels of 
that description were fitting out. This” 
market has since used its wings to disap-— 
pear altogether. : 

I kept my eyes on every ship we passed. 
Until the previous day, I had never seen — 
a square-rigged vessel; and no enthusiast 
in the arts ever gloated on a fine pictnre 
or statue with greater avidity than my 
soul drank in the wonder and beauty of 
every ship I passed. I had a large, full- 
rigged model at Clawbonny; and this I 
had studied under my father so thoroughly 
as to know the name of every rope in it, 
and to have some pretty distinct notions 
of their uses. This early schooling was 
now of great use to me, though I found it 
a little difficult at first to trace my old 
acquaintances on the large scale in which — 
they now presented themselves, and amid 
the intricate mazes that were drawn 
against the skies. The braces, shrouds, 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


stays and halyards were all plain enough, 
and I could point to either, at a moment’s 
notice ; but when it came to the rest of 
the running rigging, I found it necessary 
to look a little, before I could speak with 
certainty. 


Eager as I was to ship, the indulgence’ 


of gazing at all I saw was so attractive, 
that it was noon before we reached an 
Indiaman, This was a pretty little ship 
of about four hundred tons, that was called 
the John. Little I say, for such she 
would now be thought, though a vessel of 
her size was then termed large. The Man- 
hattan, much the largest ship out of the 
port, measured but about seven hundred 
tons ; while few even of the Indiamen were 
much beyond five hundred. I can see the 
John at this moment, near fifty years 
after I first laid eyes on her, as she then 
appeared. She was not bright-sided, but 
had a narrow, cream-colored streak, 
broken into ports. She was a straight, 
black-looking craft, with a handsome bil- 
let, low, thin bulwarks, and waist cloths 
secured to ridge-ropes. Her larger spars 
were painted the same color as her streak, 
and her stern had a few ornaments of a 
similar tint. } 

We went on board the John, where we 
found the officers just topping off with the 
riggers and stevedores, having stowed all 
the provisions and water, and the mere 
trifle of cargo she carried. The mate, 
whose name was Marble, and a well- 
veined bit of marble he was, his face re- 
sembling a map that had more rivers 
drawn on it than the land could feed, 
winked at the captain and nodded his 
head toward us as soon as we met his 
eye. The latter smiled, but did not speak. 

«Walk this way, gentlemen—walk this 
way, if you please,’ said Mr. Marble, en- 
couragingly, passing a ball of spun-yarn, 
all the while, to help a rigger serve a 
rope. ‘‘ When did you leave the coun- 
try 9? 

This produced a general laugh, even the 
yellow rascal of a mulatto, who was pass- 
ing into the cabin with some crockery, 
grinning in our faces at this salutation. 
I saw it was now or never, and determined 
not to be browbeaten, while I was too 


{ 


255 


truthful to attempt to pass for that I was 
not. 

‘“We left home last night, thinking to 
be in time to find berths in one of the In- 
diamen, that is to sail this week.’’ 

‘Not this week, my son—not till next,” 
said Mr. Marble, jocularly. ‘‘ Sunday is 
the day. Werun from Sunday to Sunday 
—the better day, the better deed, you 
know. How did you leave father and 
mother ? ”’ 

““J have neither,’’ I answered, almost 
choked. ‘‘ My mother died a few months 
since, and my father, Captain Walling- 
ford, has now been dead some years.”’ 

The master of the John was a man 
of about fifty, red-faced, hard-looking, 
pock-marked, square-rigged, and of an 
exterior that promised anything but senti- | 
ment. Feeling, however, he did manifest, 
the moment I mentioned my father’s 
name. He ceased his employment, came 
close to me, gazed earnestly in my faa 
and even looked kind. 

«* Are you a son of Captain Miles Wal- 
lingford ? *”? he asked in a low voice—‘‘ of 
Miles Wallingford, from up the river ? ”’ 

‘lam, sir; his only son. He left but 
two of us, a son and a daughter; and, 
though under no neceesity to work at all, 
I wish to make this Miles Wallingford 
as good a seaman as the last, and, I hope, 
as honest a man.’’ 

This was said manfully, and with a 
spirit that must have pleased; for I 
was shaken cordially by the hand, wel- 
comed on board, invited into the cabin, 
and asked to take a seat at a table on 
which the dinner had just been placed, 
Rupert, of course, shared in all these 
favors. Then followed the explanations. 
Captain Robbins of the John had first 
gone to sea with my father, for whom I 
believe he entertained a profound respect. 
He had even served with him once as 
mate, and talked as if he felt that he 
had been under obligations to him. He 
did not question me very closely, seeming 
to think it natural enough that Miles 
Wallingford’s only son should wish to be 
a seaman. 

As we sat at the table, even, it was 
agreed that Rupert and I should join the 


256 


ship, as green hands, the very next morn- 
ing, signing the articles aS soon as we 
went on shore. This was done according- 
ly, and I had the felicity of writing Miles 
Wallingford to the roll d’equipage, to the 
tune of eighteen dollars per month—sea- 
men then actually receiving thirty and 
thirty-five dollars per month— wages. 
Rupert was taken also, though Captain 
Robbins cut him down to thirteen dollars, 
saying, ina jesting way, that a parson’s 
son could hardly be worth as much as the 
son of one of the best old ship-master’s 
who ever sailed out of America. He was 
a shrewd observer of men and things, this 
new friend of mine, and I believe under- 
stood ‘‘ by the cut of his jib,’’ that Rupert 
was not likely to make a weather-earing 
man. The money, however, was not of 
much account in our calculations; and 
lucky enough did I think myself in finding 
so good a berth, almost as soon as looked 
for. We returned to the tavern and 
stayed that night, taking a formal leave 
of Neb, who was to carry the good news 
home, as soon as the sloop should sail. 

In the morning a cart was loaded with 
our effects, the bill was discharged, and 
we left the tavern. I had the precaution 
not to go directly alongside the ship. On 
the contrary, we proceeded to an opposite 
part of the town, placing the bags ona 
wharf resorted to by craft from New 
Jersey, as if we intended to go on board 
one of them. The cartman took his quar- 
ter, and drove off, troubling himself very 
little about the future movements of two 
young sailors. Waiting half an hour, 
another cart was called, when we went to 
the John, and were immediately installed 
in her forecastle. Captain Robbins had 
provided us both with chests, paid for out 
of the three months’ advance, and in 
them we found the slops necessary for so 
long a voyage. Rupert and I immedi- 
ately put on suits of these new clothes 
with regular little round tarpaulins, which 
so much altered us in appearance, even 
from those produced by our Ulster County 
fittings, that we scarce knew each other. 

Rupert now went on deck to lounge and 
smoke a cigar, while I went aloft, visiting 
every yard, and touching all three of the 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


trucks, before I returned from this, my 
exploring expedition. The captain and — 
mates and riggers smiled at my move- ~ 
ments, and I overheard the former telling 
his mate that I was ‘‘old Miles over 
again.’? In a word, all parties seemed — 
pleased with the arrangement that had ° 
been made. I had told the officers aft of 
my knowledge of the names and uses of 
most of the ropes; and never did I feel so 
proud as when Mr. Marble called out, in — 
a loud tone— 

““D’ye hear there, Miles—away aloft 
and unreeve them fore-topgallant hal- 
yards, and send an end down to haul up 
this new rope, to reeve a fresh set.”’ 

Away I went, my head buzzing with 
the complicated order, and yet I had a 
very tolerable notion of what was to be 
done. The unreeving might have been 
achieved by any one, and I got through 
with that without difficulty; and, the 
mate himself helping me and directing me 
from the deck, the new rope was rove 
with distinguished success. This was the 
first duty I ever did in a ship, and Iwas — 
prouder of it than of any that was subse- _ 
quently performed by the same individual. 
The whole time I was thus occupied, Ru- 
pert stood lounging against the foot of the 
mainstay, smoking his cigar like a burgo- 
master. His turn came next, however, 
the captain sending for him to the cabin, 
where he set him to work to copy some 
papers. Rupert wrote a beautiful hand, 
and he wrote rapidly. That evening I 
heard the chief mate tell the dickey that 
the parson’s son was likely to turn out a 
regular ‘‘barber’s clerk ’’ to the captain. 
‘“‘The old man,’’ he added, ‘‘ makes so 
many traverses himself on a bit of paper, — 
that he hardly knows at which end to be- 
gin to read it; and I shouldn’t wonder if — 
he just stationed this chap, with a quill 
behind his ear, for the v’y’ge.’’ a 

For the next two or three days Il was ~ 
delightfully busy, passing half the time — 
aloft. All the sails were to be bent, and I 
had my full share in the performance of — 
this duty. I actully furled the mizzen-— 
royal with my own hands—the ship carry- 
ing standing royals—and it was said to be — 
very respectably done; a little rag-bag- 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


gish in the bunt, perhaps, but secured in 
a way that took the next fellow who 
touched the gasket five minutes to cast 
the sail loose. Then it rained, and sails 
were to be loosened to dry. I let every- 
thing fall forward with my own hands, 
and when we came to roll up the canvas 
again, | actually managed all three of 
theroyals alone ; one at a time of course. 
My father had taught me to make a flat- 
knot, a bowline, a clove-hitch, two half- 
hitches, and such sort of things; and I 
got through with both a long and a short 
splice tolerably well. I found all this, 
and the knowledge I had gained from my 
model ship at home, of great use to me; 
so much so, indeed, as to induce even that 
indurated bit of mortality, Marble, to say 
I “‘was the ripest piece of green stuff he 
had ever fallen in with.’’ 

All this time Rupert was kept at quill- 
driving. Once he got leave to quit the 
ship—it was the day before we sailed—and 
I observed he went ashore in his long togs, 
of which each of us had one suit. I stole 
away the same afternoon to find the post- 
office, and work up stream as far as 
Broadway, not knowing exactly which 
way to shape my course. In that day 
everybody who was anybody, and unmar- 
ried, promenaded the west side of the 
street, from the Battery to St. Paul’s 
Church, between the hours of twelve and 
half-past two, wind and weather permit- 
ting. There I saw Rupert in his country 
guise, nothing remarkable, of a certainty, 
strutting about with the best of them, and 
looking handsome in spite of his rusticity. 
It was getting late, and he left the street 
just as I saw him. [I followed, waiting 
until we got to a private place before I 
would speak to him, however, as I knew 
he would be mortified to be taken for the 


friend of a Jack-tar in such a scene. 


Rupert entered a door, and then reap- 
peared with a letter in his hand. He, too, 
had gone to the post-office, and Ino longer 
hesitated about joining him. 

“Is it from Clawbonny?’’? I asked, 
eagerly. ‘‘If so, from Lucy, doubtless ? ’’ 

“From Clawbonny—but from Grace,”’ 


_he answered with a slight change of color. 


. 


“T desired the poor girl to let me know how 
IV.—9 


. 


1 


257 


things passed off after we left them; and 
as for Lucy, her pothooks are so much out 
of the way, I never want to see them.’’ 

I felt hurt, offended, that my sister 
should write to any youngster but my- 
self. It is true the letter was to a bosom 
friend—a co-adventurer, one almost a 
child of the same family—and I had come 
to the office expecting to get a letter from 
Rupert’s sister, who had promised, while 
weeping on the wharf, to do exactly the 
same thing for me; but there zs a differ- 
ence between one’s sister writing to an- 
other young man, and another young 
man’s sister writing to one’s self. I can- 
not even now explain it; but that there 
7s a difference I am sure. Without ask- 
ing to see a line that Grace had written, 
I went into the office, and returned in a 
minute or two, with an air of injured dig- 
nity, holding Lucy’s epistle in my hand. 

After all there was nothing in either let- 
ter to excite much sensibility. Hach was 
written with the simplicity, truth and 
feeling of a generous-minded, warm- 
hearted, female friend, of an age not to 
distrust her own motives, to a lad who had 
no right to view the favor other than it 
was, as an evidence of early and intimate 
friendship. Both epistles are now before 
me, and I copy them as the shortest way 
of letting the reader know the effect our 
disappearance had produced at Claw- 
bonny. That of Grace was couched in 
the following terms : 


‘‘*DEAR RUPERT :—Clawbonny was in 
commotion at nine o’clock this morning, 
and well it might be! When your father’s 
anxiety got to be painful, I told him the 
whole and gave him the letters. I am 
sorry to say he wept. I wish never to 
see sucha sight again. The tears of two 
such silly girls as Lucy and I are of little 
account—but, Rupert, to behold an aged 
man we love and respect like him, a min- 
ister of the Gospel too, in tears! It was 
a hard sight to bear. He did not re- 
proach us for our silence, saying he did not 
see, after our promises, how we could well 
do otherwise. I gave your reasons about 
‘responsibility in the premises;’ but I 
don’t think he understood them. Isit too 


258 WORKS 


late to return ? The boat that carried you 
down can bring you back; and oh! how 
much rejoiced shall we all ee to see you! 
Wherever you go and whatever you do, 
boys—for I write as much to one as to 
the other, and only address to Rupert 
because he so earnestly desired it—but 
wherever you go, and whatever you do, 
remember the instructions you have both 
received in youth, and how much all of us 
are interested in your conduct and happi- 
ness. Affectionately yours, 
‘““GRACE WALLINGFORD. 


“To Mr. Rupert Hardinge.”’ 


Lucy had been less guarded, and possi- 
bly a little more honest. She wrote as 
follows : 


“‘ DEAR MIuEs :—I believe I cried for one 
whole hour after you and Rupert left us, 
and, now it is all over, 1 am vexed at hav- 
ing cried so much about two such foolish 
fellows. Grace has told you all about my 
dear, dear father, who cried too. I de- 
clare, I don’t know when I was so fright- 
ened! I thought it must bring you back, 
as soon as you hear of it. What will be 
done I do not know ; but something, Iam 
certain. Whenever father is in earnest he 
says but little. I know he is in earnest 
now. Il believe Grace and I do nothing 
but think of you; that is, she of you, and 
LT of Rupert; and a little the other way, 
too—so now you have the whole truth. 
Do not fail, on any account, to write be- 
fore you go to sea, if you do go to sea, as 
I hope and trust you will not. Good-by. 

‘* Lucy HARDINGE. 


**To Mr. Miles Wallingford. 


““P.S. Neb’s mother protests, if the boy 
is not home by Saturday night, she will 
go after him. No such disgrace as a run- 
away ever befell her or hers, and she says 
she will not submit to it. But I suppose 
we shall see ham soon, and with him Jet- 
ters.” 


Now Neb had taken his leave, but no 
letter had been trusted to his care. As 
often happens, I regretted the mistake 
when it was too late; and all that day I 
thought how disappointed Lucy would be, 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


when she came to see the negro empty- 
handed. 

Rupert and I parted in the street, as he 
did not wish to walk with a sailor, while 
in his own long togs. He did not say as 
much, but I knew him well enough to as- 
certain it without his speaking. I was 
walking very fast in the direction of 
the ship, and had actually reached the 
wharves, when, in turning a corner, I 
came plump upon Mr. Hardinge. My 
guardian was walking slowly, his face 
sorrowful and dejected, and his eyes fast- 
ened on every ship he passed, as if looking 
for his boys. He saw me, casting a va- 
cant glance over my person; but I was so 
much changed by dress, and particularly 
by the little tarpaulin, that he did not 
know me. Anxiety immediately drew his 
look toward the vessels, and I passed him 
unobserved. Mr. Hardinge was walking 
from, and I toward the John, and of 
course all my risk terminated as soon as 
out of sight. 

That evening I had the happiness of 
being under way, in a real full-rigged 
ship. It is true, it was under very short 
canvas, and merely to go into the stream. 
Taking advantage of a favorable wind and 
tide, the John left the wharf under her 
jib, main-topmast staysails, and spanker, 
and dropped down as low as the Battery, 
when'she sheered into the other channel 
and anchored. Here I was, then, fairly 
at anchor in the stream, half a mile from 
any land but the bottom, and burning to 
see the ocean. That afternoon the crew 
came on board, a motley collection of 


| lately drunken seamen, of whom about 


half were Americans, and the rest natives 
of as many different countries as there 
were men. Mr. Marble scanned them 
with a knowing look, and, to my surprise, 
he told the captain there was good stuff 
among them. It seems he was a better 
judge than I was myself, for a more un- 
promising set of wretches, as to looks, I 
never saw grouped together. <A few, itis 


true, appeared well enough; but most of 


them had the air of having been dragged 
through—a place I will not name, though 


it is that which sailors usually quote when — 


describing themselves on such occasions. 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


But Jack, after he has been a week at sea, 
and Jack coming on board to duty after a | watch in company with a grum old Swede, 


immediately. 


month of excess on shore, are very differ- 
ent creatures, morally and physically. 

I now began to regret that I had not 
seen a little of the town. In 1797 New 
York could not have had more than fifty 
thousand inhabitants, though it was just 
as much of a paragon then, in the eyes of 
all good Americans, as itis to-day. It is 
a sound patriotic rule to maintain that 
our best is always the best, for it never 
puts us inthe wrong. Ihave seen enough 
of the world since to understand that we 
get a great many things wrong-end fore- 
most in this country of ours; undervalu- 
ing those advantages and excellences of 
which we have great reason to be proud, 
and boasting of others that, to say the 
least, are exceedingly equivocal. But it 
takes time to learn all this, and I have no 
intention of getting ahead of my story, 
or of my country; the last being a most 
suicidal act. 

We received the crew of a Satarday 
afternoon, and half of them turned in 
Rupert and I had a good 


berth, intending to turn in and out to- 


gether, during the voyage ; and this made 


us rather indifferent to the movements of 
the rest of our extraordinary associates. 


— — a 


ve" 


= So Pe aoe 


tua = 


t 
ri 
a; 
= 
7 
9 
ug 
os j 


The kid, at supper, annoyed us both a lit- 
tle ; the notion of seeing one’s food in a 


round trough, to be tumbled over and cut 


from by all hands, being particularly dis- 
agreeable to those who have been ac- 


-eustomed to plates, knives, and forks, 


and other such superfluities. I confess I 


thought of Grace’s and Lucy’s little white 


hands, and of silver sugar-tongs, and of 
clean plates and glasses, and table-cloths 
—napkins and silver forks were then 
unknown in America, except on the very 
best tables, and not always on them, 
unless on high-days and holidays—as we 
were going through the unsophisticated 


“manipulations of this first supper. Forty- 


seven years have elapsed, and the whole 
Scene is as vivid to my mind at this mo- 
ment as if it occurred last night. I wished 
myself one of the long-snouted tribe, sey- 


eral times, in order to be in what is called 
“keeping.” 


209 


I had the honor of keeping an anchor- 


as we lay in the Hudson. The wind was 
light, and the ship had a good berth, so 
my associate chose a soft plank, told me 
to give hima call should anything hap- 
pen, and lay down to sleep away his two 
hours in comfort. Not so with me. I 
strutted the deck with as much impor- 
tance as if the weight of the State lay 
on my shoulders—paid a visit every five 
minutes to the bows, to see that the 
cable had not parted, and that the anchor 
did not “‘come home’’—and then looked 
aloft, to ascertain that everything was 
in its place. Those were a happy two 
hours ! 

About ten next morning, being Sun- 
day, and, as Mr. Marble expressed it, 
‘“‘the better day, the better deed,’’ the 
pilot came off, and all hands were called 
to “up anchor.’’ The cook, cabin-boy, 
Rupert, and I, were intrusted with the 
duty of “‘ fleeting-jig ’? and breaking down 
the coils of the cable, the handspikes re- 
quiring heavier hands than ours. The 
anchor was got in without any difficulty, 
however, when Rupert and I were sent 
aloft to loose the fore-topsail. Rupert got 
into the top vza the lubber’s hole, I am 
sorry to say, and the loosing of the sail 
on both yardarms fell to my duty. A 
hand was on the fore-yard, and I was 
next ordered up to loose the topgallant- 
sail. Canvas began to fall and open all 
over the ship, the topsails were mast- 
headed, and, as I looked down from the 
fore-topmast cross-trees where I remained 
to overhaul the clew-lines, I saw that the 
ship was falling off, and that her sails 
were filling with a stiff northwest breeze. 

Just as my whole being was entranced 
with the rapture of being under way for 
Canton, which was then called the Indies, 
Rupert called out to me from the top. 
He was pointing at some object on the 
water, and, turning, | saw a boat within 
a hundred feet of the ship. In her was 
Mr. Hardinge who at that moment caught 
sight of us. But the ship’s sails were 
now all full, and no one on deck saw, or 
at least heeded, the boat. The John. 
glided past it, and, the last I saw of 


260 


my venerated guardian, he was standing 
erect, bareheaded, holding both arms ex- 
tended, as if entreating us not to desert 
him! Presently the ship fell off so much 
that the after-sails hid him from my view. 
I descended into the top, where I found 
Rupert had shrunk down out of sight, 
looking frightened and guilty. As for 
myself, I got behind the head of the mast, 
and fairly sobbed. This lasted a few min- 
utes, when an order from the mate called 
us both below. When I reached the deck 
the boat was already a long distance 
astern, and had evidently given up the 
idea of boarding us. I do not know 
whether I felt the most relieved or 
pained by the certainty of this fact. 


—————$——— 


CHAPTER IV. 


**There is a tide in the affairs of men, 
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune. 
Omitted, all the voyage of their life 
Is bound in shallows, and in niseries. 
On such a full sea are we now afloat: 
And we must take the current when it serves, 
Or lose our ventures.’>—BRUTUS—JULIUS C_ESAR. 


In four hours from the time when 
Rupert and I last saw Mr. Hardinge, the 
ship was at sea. She crossed the bar, 
and started on her long journey, with 
a fresh northwester, and with everything 
packed on that she would bear. We 
took a diagonal course out of the bight 
formed by the coasts of Long Island and 
New Jersey, and sunk the land entirely 
by the middle of theafternoon. I watched 
the highlands of Navesink, as they van- 
ished like watery clouds in the west, and 
then I felt I was at last fairly out of sight 
of land. But a foremast-hand has little 
opportunity for indulging in sentiment as 
he quits his native shore ; and few, I fancy, 
have the disposition. As regards the op- 
portunity, anchors are to be got in off the 
bows, and stowed; cables are to be un- 
bent and coiled down; studding-gear is to 
be hauled out and got ready; frequently 
boom-irons are to be placed upon the yards, 
and the hundred preparations made, that 
render the work of a ship as ceaseless a 
round of activity as that of a house. 

This kept us all busy until night, when 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


the watches were told off and set. I was 
in the larboard, or chief mate’s watch, 
having actually been chosen by that hard- 
featured old seaman, the fourth man he 
named ; anhonor for which I was indebted 


to the activity I had already manifested | 


aloft. Rupert was less distinguished, be- 
ing taken by the captain for the second 
mate’s watch, the very last person chosen. 
That night Mr. Marble dropped a few hints 
on the subject, which let me into the se- 
cret of these two selections. ‘“* You and I 
will get along well together, I see that 
plainly, Miles,’? he said, ‘‘for there’s 
quicksilver in your body. As for your 
friend in t’other watch, it’s all as it should 
be; the captain has got one hand the 
most, and such as he is, he is welcome 
to him. MHe’ll blacken more writing 
paper this v’y’ge, I reckon, than he’ll 
tar down riggin’.’”? JI thought it odd, 
however, that Rupert, who had been so 
forward in all the preliminaries of our 
venture, should fall so far astern in its 


| first practical results. 


It is not my intention to dwell on all the 
minute incidents of this, my first voyage 
to sea, else would it spin out the narrative 
unnecessarily, and render my task as 
fatiguing to the reader as it might prove 
to myself. One occurrence, however, 
which took place three days out, must be 
mentioned, as it wil prove to be con- 
nected with important circumstances in 
the end. The ship was now in order, and 
was at least two hundred leagues from 
the land, having had a famous run off the 
coast, when the voice of the cook, who 
had gone below for water, was heard 
down among the casks, in such a clamor 
as none buta black can raise, with all his 
loquacity awakened. 

““There’s two niggers at that work !’’ 
exclaimed Mr. Marble, after listening an 
instant, glancing his eye round to make 
certain the mulatto steward was not in 
the discussion. ‘‘No one darkey ever 
could make all that outcry. Bear a hand 
below, Miles, and see if Africa has come 
aboard us in the night.”’ 

I was in the act of obeying when Cato, 
the cook, was seen rising through the 
steerage-hatch, dragging after him the 


2 Beet oe 


with delight. 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


261 


dark poll of another black, whom he had | was, they annoyed me a good deal; and 


gripped by the wool. In an instant both 
were on deck, when, to my astonishment, 
I discovered the agitated countenance of 
Nebuchadnezzar Clawbonny. Of course 
the secret was out, the instant the lad’s 
glistening features were recognized. 

Neb, in a word, had managed to get on 
board the ship before she hauled out into 


the stream, and lay concealed among the 


water-casks, his pockets crammed with 
ginger-bread and apples, until discovered 
by the cook, in one of his journeys in quest 
of water. The food of the lad had been 
gone twenty-four hours, and it is not 
probable the fellow could have remained 
concealed much longer, had not this dis- 
covery taken place. The instant he was 
on deck, Neb looked eagerly around to 
ascertain how far the ship had got from 
the land, and, seeing nothing but water 
on every side of him, he fairly grinned 
This exasperated Mr. 
Marble, who thought it was adding insult 
to injury, and he gave the lad a cuff on 
the ear that would have set a white reel- 
ing. On Neb, however, this sharp blow 
produced no effect, falling as it did on the 
impregnable part of his system. 

‘Oh! you’re a nigger, be you?”’ ex- 
claimed the mate, waxing warmer and 
warmer, as he fancied himself baffled by 
the other’s powers of endurance. ‘‘Take 
that, and let us see if you’re full-blooded ! ”’ 

A smart rap on the shin accompanying 
these words, Neb gave in on the instant. 
He begged for mercy, and professed a 
readiness to tell all, protesting he was not 
‘a runaway nigger ’’—a term the mate 


~ used while applying the kicks. 


I now interfered by telling Mr. Marble, 
with all the respect due from a green 
hand to a chief mate, who Neb really was, 
and what I supposed to be his motives for 
following me to the ship. This revelation 
cost me a good deal in the end, the idea of 
Jack’s having a ‘‘ waiting-man ”’ on board 
giving rise to a great many jokes at my 
expense during the rest of the voyage. 
Had I not been so active, and so welling, 


- @ great source of favor on board a ship, it 
is probable these jokes would have been 
much broader and more frequent. 


As it 


it required a strong exercise of all the boy- 
ish regard I really entertained for Neb, to 
refrain from turning-to and giving him a 
sound thrashing for his exploit, at the first 
good occasion. And yet, what was his 
delinquency compared to my own? He 
had followed his master out of deep affec- 
tion, blended somewhat, it is true, with a 
love of adventure; while in one sense, I 
had violated all the ties of the heart, 
merely to indulge the latter passion. 

The captain coming on deck, Neb’s 
story was told, and, finding that no 
wages would be asked in behalf of this 
athletic, healthy young negro, he had no 
difficulty in receiving him into favor. To 
Neb’s great delight, he was sent forward 
to take his share on the yards and in the 
rigging, there being no vacancy for him 
to fill about the caboose, or in the cabin. 
In an hour the negro was fed, and he was 
regularly placed in the starboard watch. 
I was rejoiced at this last arrangement, 
as it put the fellow in a watch different 
from my own, and prevented his officious 
efforts to do my work. Rupert, I dis- 
covered, however, profited often by his 
zeal, employing the willing black on every 
possible occasion. On questioning Neb, I 
ascertained that he. had taken the boat 
round to the Wallingford, and had made 
use of a dollar or two, I had given him at 
parting, to board in a house suitable to 
his color, until the ship was ready for sea, 
when he got on board, and stowed himself 
among the water-casks, as mentioned. 

Neb’s apparition soon ceased to be a 
subject of discourse, and his zeal quickly 
made him a general favorite. Hardy, 
strong, resolute, and accustomed to labor, 
he was early of great use in all the heavy 
drags; and aloft, even, though less quick 
than a white would have been, he got to 
be serviceable and reasonably expert. My 
own progress—and I say it without vanity, 
but simply because it was true—was the 
subject of general remark. One week 
made me familiar with the running-gear ; 
and, by that time, I could tell a rope by 
its size, the manner in which it led, and 
the place where it was belayed, in the 
darkest night, as well as the oldest sea- 


262 WORKS 
man on board. It is true, my model-ship 
had prepared the way for much of this 
expertness; but free from all sea-sickness, 
of which I never had a moment in my life, 
I set about learning these things in good 
earnest, and was fully rewarded for my 
pains. I passed the weather-earing of the 
mizzen-topsail when we had been out a 
fortnight, and went to those of the fore 
and main before we crossed the line. The 
mate put me forward on all occasions, 
giving me much instruction in private; 
and the captain neglected no opportunity 
of giving me useful hints, or practical 
ideas. J asked, and was allowed, to take 
my regular trick at the wheel before we 
got into the latitude of St. Helena; and 
from that time did my full share of sea- 
man’s duty on board, the nicer work of 
knotting, splicing, etc., excepted. These 
last required a little more time; but lam 
satisfied that, in all things but judgment, 
a clever lad, who has a taste for the busi- 
ness, can make himself a very useful and 
respectable mariner in six months of 
active service. 

China voyages seldom produce much 
incident. If the moment of sailing has 
been judiciously timed, the ship has fair 
winds much of the way, and generally 
moderate weather. To be sure, there are 
points on the long road that usually give 
one a taste of what the seas sometimes 
are; but, on the whole, a Canton voyage, 
though a long one, cannot be called a 
rough one. Asa matter of course, we had 
gales, and squalls, and the usual vicissi- 
tudes of the ocean, to contend with, though 
our voyage to Canton might have been 
called quiet, rather than the reverse. We 
were four months under our canvas, and, 
when we anchored in the river, the clew- 
ing up of our sails, and getting from be- 
neath their shadows, resembled the rising 
of a curtain on some novel scenic repre- 
sentation. John Chinaman, however, has 
been so often described, particularly of 
late, that I shall not dwell on his peculiari- 
ties. Sailors, asaclass, are very philosoph- 
ical, so far as the peculiarities and habits 
of strangers are concerned, appearing to 
think it beneath the dignity of those who 
visit all lands, to betray wonder at the 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


novelties of any. It so happened that no 
man on board the John, the officers, 
steward and cook excepted, had ever 
doubled the Cape of Good Hope before 
this voyage; and yet our crew regarded 
the shorn polls, slanting eyes, long cues, 
clumsy dress, high cheek-bones, and lum- 
bering shoes of the people they now saw 
for the first time, with just as much indif- 
ference as they would have encountered a 
new fashion at home. Most of them, in- 
deed, had seen, or fancied they had seen, 
much stranger sights in the different 
countries they had visited; it being a 
standing rule with Jack to compress 
everything that is wonderful into the 
“last voyage ’’—that in which he is en- 
gaged for the present time being usually 
set down as commonplace, and unworthy 
of particular comment. On this principle, 
my Canton excursion ought to be full of 
marvels, as it was the progenitor of all 
that I subsequently saw and experienced 
as asailor. Truth compels me to confess, 
notwithstanding, that it was one of the 
least wonderful of all the voyages I ever 
made, until near its close. 

We lay some months in the river, get- 
ting cargo, receiving teas, nankins, silks, 
and other articles, as our supercargo 
could lay handson them. In all this time, 
we saw just as much of the Chinese as it 
is usual for strangers to see, and not a jot 
more. I was much up at the factories 
with the captain, having charge of his 
boat; and, as for Rupert, he passed most 
of his working-hours either busy with the 
supercargo ashore, or writing in the cabin. 
I got a good insight, however, into the 
uses of the serving-mallet, the fid, marlin- 
spike and winch, and did something with 
the needle ‘and palm. Marble was very 
good to me, in spite of his nor’west face, 
and never let slip an occasion to give a 
useful hint. 
outward-bound passage fully equaled ex- 
pectations, and the officers had a species 
of pride in helping to make Captain Wal- 
lingford’s son worthy of his honorable 
descent. I had taken occasion to let it be 
known that Rupert’s great-grandfather 
had been a man-of-war captain; but the 
suggestion was met by a flat refusal to be- 


I believe my exertions onthe _ 


ee ee ee a ee 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


lieve it from Mr. Kite, the second mate, 
though Mr. Marble remarked it might be 
so, as I admitted that both his father and 
grandfather had been, or were, in the 
Church. My friend seemed fated to 
achieve nothing but the glory of a “ bar- 
ber’s clerk.”’ 

* Our hatches were got on and battened 
down, and we sailed for home early in the 
spring of 1798. The ship had a good run 
across the China Sea, and reached the 
Indies in rather a short passage. We had 
cleared all the islands, and were fairly in 
the India Ocean, when an adventure oc- 
curred, which was the first really worthy 
of being related that we met in the whole 
voyage. I shall give it, in as few words 
as possible. 

We had cleared the Straits of Sunda 
early in the morning and had made a 
pretty fair run in the ieoutHe of the day, 
though most of the time in thick weather. 
Just as the sun set, however, the horizon 
became clear, and we got a sight of two 
small sail, seemingly heading in toward 
the coast of Sumatra, proas by their rig 
and dimensions. They were so distant, 

and were so evidently steering for the 

land, that no one gave them much 
thought, or bestowed on them any par- 
ticular attention. Proas in that quarter 
were usually distrusted by ships, it is 
true; but the sea is full of them, and far 
| more are innocent than are guilty of any 
acts of violence. Then it became dark 

soon after these craft were seen, and 
night shut them in. An hour after the 
sun had set, the wind fell to a light air, 
that just kept steerage-way on the ship. 
_ Fortunately, the John was not only fast, 
_ but she minded her helm, as a light-footed 
girl turns in a lively dance. I never was 


in a better steering ship, most especially 
- in moderate weather. 

_ Mr. Marble had the middle watch that 
night, and, of course, I was on deck from 


midnight until four in the morning. It 
¢- 


proved misty most of the watch, and for 
quite an hour we had a light drizzling 
rain. The ship the whole time was close- 
hauled, carrying royals. As everybody 
seemed to have made up his mind to a 
quiet night, one without any reefing or 


263 


furling, most of the watch were sleeping 
about the decks, or wherever they could 
get good quarters and be least in the 
way. I do not know what kept me 
awake, for lads of my age are apt to get 
all the sleep they can; but I believe I 
was thinking of Clawbonny, and Grace, 
and Lucy; for the latter, excellent girl 
as she was, often crossed my mind in 
those days of youth and comparative in- 
nocence. Awake I was, and walking in 
the weather gangway, in a Sailor’s trot. 
Mr. Marble, he I do believe was fairly 
snoozing on the hen-coops, being, like the 
sails, as one might say, barely ‘‘ asleep.”’ 
At that moment I heard a noise, one fa- 
miliar to seamen; that of an oar falling 
in a boat. So completely was my mind 
bent on other and distant scenes, that at 
first I felt no surprise, as if we were in a 
harbor surrounded by craft of various 
sizes, coming and going at all hours. But 
a second thought destroyed this illusion, 
and I looked eagerly about me. Directly 
on our weather-bow, distant, perhaps, a 
cable’s length, I saw a small sail, and I 
could distinguish it sufficiently well to 
coe it was a proa. I sang out, ‘‘Sail 
ho! and close aboard !”’ 

Mr. Marble was on his feet in an instanh 
He afterward told me that when he opened 
his eyes, for he admitted this much to me 
in confidence, they fell directly on the 
stranger. He was too much of a seaman 
to require a second look in order to as- 
certain what was to be done. ‘‘ Keep the 
ship away—keep her broad off!” he called 
out to the man atthe wheel. ‘Lay the 
yards square—call all hands, one of you. 
Captain Robbins, Mr. Kite, bear a hand 
up; the bloody proas are aboard us!” 
The last part of this call was uttered in 
a loud voice, with the speaker’s head 
down the companionway. It was heard 
plainly enough below, but scarcely at all 
on deck. 

In the meantime everybody was in mo- 
tion. It is amazing how soon sailors are 
wide awake when there is really anything 
to do! It appeared to me that all our 
people mustered on deck in less than a 
minute, most of them with nothing on but 
their shirts and trousers. The ship was 


264 WORKS 


nearly before the wind by the time I heard 
the captain’s voice; and then Mr. Kite 
came bustling in among us forward, order- 
ing most of the- men to lay aft to the 
braces, remaining himself on the fore- 
castle, and keeping me with him to let go 
the sheets. On the forecastle, the strange 
sail was no longer visible, being now abaft 
the beam; but I could hear Mr. Marble 
Swearing there were two of them, and 
that they must be the very chaps we had 
seen to leeward, and standing in for the 
land at sunset. I also heard the captain 
calling out to the steward to bring him a 
powder-horn. Immediately after, orders 
were given to let fly all our sheets for- 
ward, and then I perceived that they were 
wearing ship. Nothing saved us but the 
prompt order of Mr. Marble to keep the 
ship away, by which means, instead of 
moving toward the proas, we instantly 
began to move from them. Although 
they went three feet to our two, this gave 
us ® moment of breathing time. 

As our sheets were all flying forward, 
and remained so for a few minutes, it 
gave me leisure to look about. I soon 
saw both proas, and glad enough was I 
to perceive that they had not approached 
materially nearer. Mr. Kite observed 
this also, and remarked that our move- 
ments had been so prompt as to “take 
the rascals aback.’? He meant they did 
not exactly know what we were at, and 
had not kept away with us. 

At this instant, the captain and five or 
six of the oldest seamen began to cast 
loose all our starboard, or weather guns, 
four in all, and sixes. We had loaded 
these guns in the Straits of Banca, with 
grape and canister, in readiness for just 
such pirates as were now coming down 
upon us; and nothing was wanting but 
the priming and a hot loggerhead. It 
seems two of the last had been ordered in 
the fire, when we saw the proas at sunset, 
and they were now in excellent condition 
for service, live coals being kept around 
them all night by command. I saw a 
cluster of men busy with the second gun 
from forward, and could distinguish the 
captain pointing it. 


“There cannot well be any mistake, 


OF FENIMORE OOOPER. 


Mr. Marble? ’’ the captain observed, hesi- 
tating whether to fire or not. 

“Mistake, sir? Lord, Captain Robbins, 
you might cannonade any of the islands 
astern for a week, and never hurt an 
honest man. Let ’em have it, sir; [ll 
answer for it, you do good.”’ 

This settled the matter. The logger- 
head was applied, and one of our sixes 
spoke out in a smart report. A breathless 
stillness succeeded. The proas did not 
alter their course, but neared us fast. The 
captain leveled his night-glass, and I 
heard him tell Kite, in a low voice, that 
they were full of men. The word was now 
passed to clear away all the guns, and to 
open the arm-chest, to come at the mus- 
kets and pistols. 
the boarding-pikes, too, as they were cut 
adrift from the spanker-boom, and fell 
upon the deck. All this sounded very 
ominous, and I began to think we should 
have a desperate engagement first, and 
then have all our throats cut after- 
ward. 

I expected now to hear the guns dis- 
charged in quick succession, but they were 
got ready only, not fired. Kite went aft, 
and returned with three or four muskets, 
and as many pikes. He gave the latter 
to those of the people who had nothing to 
do with the guns. By this time the ship 
was on a wind, steering a good full, while 
the two proas were just: abeam, and clos- 
ing fast. The stillness that reigned on 
both sides was like that of death. The 
proas, however, fell a little more astern ; 
the result of their own maneuvering, out 
of all doubt, as they moved through the 
water much faster than the ship, seeming: 
desirous of dropping into our wake, with 
a design of closing under our stern, and 
avoiding our broadside. As this would 
never do, and the wind freshened so as to 
give us four or five knot way, a most 
fortunate circumstance for us, the cap- 


tain determined to tack while he had 


room. ‘The John behaved beautifully, 
and came round like a top. The proas 
saw there was no time to lose, and at- 
tempted to close before we could fill 
again; and this they would have done 
with ninety-nine ships in a hundred. The 


4 


I heard the rattling of | 


adh scp i le mer gi ga em 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


captain knew his vessel, however, and did 
not let her lose her way, making every- 
thing draw again as it might be by in- 
stinct. The proas tacked, too, and, 
laying up much nearer to the wind than 
we did, appeared as if about to close on 
our lee-bow. The question was, now, 
whether we could pass them or not before 
they got near enough to grapple. If the 
pirates got on board us, we were hope- 
lessly gone; and everything depended on 
coolness and judgment. The captain be- 
haved perfectly weil in this critical instant, 
commanding a dead silence, and the clos- 
est attention to his orders. 
I was too much interested at this mo- 
ment to feel the concern that I might 
otherwise have experienced. On the fore- 
castle, it appeared to us all that we should 
be boarded in a minute, for one of the proas 
was actually within a hundred feet, though 
losing her advantage a little by getting 
under the lee of our sails. Kite had 
ordered us to muster forward of the rig- 
ging, to meet the expected leap with a 
discharge of muskets, and then to present 
our pikes, when I felt an arm thrown 
around my body, and was turned in- 
board, while another person assumed my 
place. This was Neb, who had thus coolly 
thrust himself before me, in order to meet 
the danger first. I felt vexed, even while 
touched with the fellow’s attachment and 
self-devotion, but had no time to betray 
either feeling before the crews of the proas 
gave a yell, and discharged some fifty or 
sixty matchlocks at us. The air was full 
of bullets, but they all went over our 
heads. Not a soul on board the John 
was hurt. On our side, we gave the 
. gentlemen the four sixes, two at the near- 
est and two at the sternmost proa, which 
was still near a cable’s length distant. 
As often happens, the one seemingly 
furthest from danger, fared the worst. 
- Our grape and canister had room to 
 seatter, and I can at this distant day still 
hear the shrieks that arose from that 
craft! They were like the yells of fiends 
-inanguish. The effect on that proa was 
instantaneous ; instead of keeping on after 
her consort, she wore short round on her 
heel, and stood away in our wake, on the 


265 


other tack, apparently to get out of the 
range of our fire. 

I doubt if we touched a man in the near- 
est proa. At any rate, no noise proceeded 
from her, and she came up under our bows 
fast. As every gun was discharged, and 
there was not time to load them, all now 
depended on repelling the boarders. Part 
of our people mustered in the waist where 
it was expected the proa would fall along- 
side, and part on the forecastle. Just as 
this distribution was made, the pirates 
cast their grapnel. It was admirably 
thrown, but caught only by a ratlin. I 
saw this, and was about to jump into the 
rigging to try what I could do to clear it, 
when Neb again went ahead of me, and 
cut the ratlin with his knife. This was 
just as the pirates had abandoned sails 
and oars, and had risen to haul up along- 
side. So sudden was the release, that 
twenty of them fell over by their own 
efforts. In this state the ship passed 
ahead, all her canvas being full, leaving 
the proa motionless in her wake. In 
passing, however, the two vessels were so 
near, that those aft in the John distinctly 
saw the swarthy faces of their enemies. 

We were no sooner clear of the proas 
than the order was given, “‘ready about!’ — 
The helm was put down, and the ship came 
into the wind in a minute. As we came 
square with the two proas, all our larboard 
guns were given to them, and this ended 
the affair. I think the nearest of the ras- 
cals got it this time, for away she went, 
after her consort, both running off toward 
the islands. We made a little show of 
chasing, but it was only a feint; for we 
were too glad to get away from them, 
to be in earnest. In ten minutes after 
we tacked the last time, we ceased firing, 
having thrown some eight or ten round- 
shot after the proas, and were close- 
hauled again, heading to the southwest. 

It is not to be supposed we went to sleep 
again immediately. Neb was the only 
man on board who did, but he never 
missed an occasion to eat or sleep. The 
captain praised us, and, as a matter of 
course in that day, he called all hands to 
‘splice the main-brace.’’ After this, the 
watch was told to go below, as regularly - 


266 


as if nothing had happened. As for the 
captain himself, he and Mr. Marble and 
Mr. Kite went prying about the ship to 
ascertain if anything material had been 
cut by what the chief mate called ‘‘ the 
bloody Indian matchlocks.”’ <A little run- 
ning-rigging had suffered, and we had to 
reeve a few new ropes in the morning; 
but this terminated the affair. 

I need hardly say, all hands of us were 
exceedingly proud of our exploit. Every- 
body was praised but Neb, who, being a 
‘“nigger,’’ was in some way or other over- 
looked. I mentioned his courage and 
readiness to Mr. Marble, but I could 
excite in no one else the same respect 
for the poor fellow’s conduct that I cer- 
tainly felt myself. I have since lived long 
enough to know that as the gold of the 
rich attracts to itself the gold of the poor, 
so do the deeds of the unknown go to 
swell the fame of the known. This is as 
true of nations, and races, and families, 
as it is of individuals; poor Neb belonging 
to a proscribed color, it was not in reason 
to suppose he could ever acquire exactly 
the same credit as a white man. 

“Them darkeys do sometimes blunder 
on a lucky idee,’’ answered Mr. Marble to 
_ one of my earnest representations, ‘ and 
I’ve known chaps among ’em. that were 
almost as knowing as dullish whites; but 
everything out of the common way with 
’em is pretty much chance. As for Neb, 
however, I will say this for him : that, for 
a nigger, he takes things quicker than any 
of his color I ever sailed with. Then he 
has no sa’ce, and that is a good deal with 
a black. White sa’ce is bad enough; but 
that of a nigger is unbearable.”’ 

Alas! Neb. Born in slavery, accus- 
tomed to consider it arrogance to think of 
receiving even his food until the meanest 
white has satisfied his appetite, submissive, 
unrepining, laborious, and obedient—the 
highest eulogium that all these patient and 
unobtrusive qualities could obtain, was a 
reluctant acknowledgment that he had 
‘no sa’ce.’’ His quickness and courage 
saved the John, nevertheless ; and I have 
_ always said it, and ever shall. 

A day after the affair of the proas, all 
hands of us began to brag. Even the 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


captain was a little seized with this mania ; 
and, as for Marble, he was taken so badly, 
that, had I not known he behaved well in 
the emergency, I certainly should have 
set him down asa Boabdil. Rupert mani- 
fested this feeling, too, though I heard he 
did his duty that night. The result of all 
the talk was to convert the affair into a 
very heroic exploit; and it subsequently 
figured in the journals as one of the deeds 
that illustrate the American name. 

From the time we were rid of the proas, 
the ship got along famously until we were 
as far west as about 52°, when the wind 
came light from the southward and west- 
ward, with thick weather. The captain 
had been two or three times caught in 
here, and he took it into his head that the 
currents would prove more favorable, 
could he stand in closer to the coast of 
Madagascar than common. According- 
ly, we brought the ship on a bowline, and 
headed well up to the northward and 
westward. We were a week on this tack, 
making from fifty to a hundred miles a 
day, expecting hourly to see the land. At 
length we made it, enormously high 
mountains, apparently a long distance 
from us, though, as we afterward ascer- 
tained, a long distance inland: and we 
continued to near it. The captain had a 
theory of his own about the currents of 
this part of the ocean, and, having set 
one of the peaks by compass, at the time 
the land was seen, he soon convinced him- 
self, and everybody else whom he tried to 
persuade, Marble excepted, that we were 
setting to windward with visible speed. 
Captain Robbins was a well-meaning, but 
somewhat dull man; and, when dull men 
become theorists, they usually make sad 
work with the practice. 

All that night we stood on to the north- 
ward and westward, though Mr. Marble 
had ventured a remonstrance concerning 
a certain headland that was just visible, a 
little on our weather-bow. The captain 
snapped his fingers at this, however; lay- 
ing down a course of reasoning which, if 
it were worth anything, ought to have 
convinced the mate that the weatherly 
set of the current would carry us ten 
leagues to the southward and westward 


AFLOAT AND, ASHORE. 


of that cape before morning. On this as- 
surance we prepared to pass a quiet and 
comfortable night. 

I had the morning watch, and when I 
came on deck, at four, there was no change 
in the weather. Mr. Marble soon appeared, 
and he walked into the waist, where I 
was leaning on the weather-rail, and fell 
into discourse. This he often did, some- 
times so far forgetting the difference in 
our stations afloat—not ashore ; there I 
had considerably the advantage of him— 
as occasionally to callme ‘‘sir.”” Lalways 
paid for this inadvertency, however, it 
. usually putting a stop to the comimunica- 
tions, for the time being. In one instance 
he took such prompt revenge for this im- 
plied admission of equality, as literally to 
break off short in the discourse, and to 
order me, in his sharpest key, to go aloft 
and send some studding-sails on deck, 
though they all had to be sent aloft again 
and set, in the course of the same watch. 
But offended dignity is seldom considerate, 
and not always consistent. 

«A quiet night, Master Miles ’_this 
the mate could call me, as it implied 
superiority on his part—‘‘a quiet night, 
Master Miles,’? commenced Mr. Marble, 
‘‘and a strong westerly current, accordin’ 
to Captain Robbins. Well, to my taste, 
gooseberries are better than currents, and 
Td go about. That’s my manner of 
generalizing.” | 

«The captain, I suppose, sir, from that, 
is of a different opinion ? ”’ 

«Why, yes, somewhatish—though I 
don’t think he knows himself exactly what 
his own opinion is. This is the third 
y’y’ge I’ve sailed with the old gentleman, 
and he is balf his time ina fog or a current. 
Now it’s his idee the ocean is full of Mis- 
sissippi rivers, and if one could only find 
the head of a stream, he might go round 
the world in it. More particularly does 
he hold that there is no fear of the land 
when in a current, as a stream never sets 
on shore. For my part, I never want any 
better hand-lead than my nose.” 

‘¢ Nose, Mr. Marble? ”’ 

‘““Yes, nose, Master Miles. Haven’t 
you remarked how far we smelt the In- 
jees, as we went through the islands ? ”’ 


267 


“Tt is true, sir, the Spice Islands, and 
all land, they say % 

«“What the devil’s that?’ asked the 
mate, evidently startled at something he 
heard, though he appeared to smell noth- 
ing, unless, indeed, it might be a rat. 

«Tt, sounds like water washing on rocks, 
sir, asmuch as anything I ever heard in 
my life!”’’ 

‘Ready about!’’ shouted the mate. 
«Run down and call the captain, Miles— 
hard a-lee—start everybody up, for- 
ward.”’ 

A scene of confusion followed, in the 
midst of which the captain, second mate, 
and the watch below, appeared on deck. 
Captain Robbins took command, of course, 
and was in time to haul the after-yards, 
the ship coming round slowly in so light 
a wind. Come round she did, however, 
and, when her head was fairly to the 
southward and eastward, the captain de- 
manded an explanation. Mr. Marble did 
not feel disposed to trust his nose any 
longer, but he invited the captain to use 
his ears. This all hands did, and, if 
sounds could be trusted, we had a pretty 
lot of breakers seemingly all around us. 

‘«‘We surely can go out the way we 
came in, Mr. Marble!” said the captain, 
anxiously. 

‘Yes, sir, if there were no current ; but 
one never knows where a bloody current 
will carry him in the dark.” 

‘Stand by to let go the anchor!” cried 
the captain. ‘Let run and clew up, for- 
ward and aft. Let go as soon as you’re 
ready, Mr. Kite.” 

Luckily, we had kept a cable bent as we 
came through the straits, and, not know- 
ing but we might touch at the Isle of 
France, it was still bent, with the anchor 
fished. We had talked of stowing the 
latter in-board, but, having land in sight, 
it was not done. In two minutes, it was 
a-cock-bill, and, in two more, let go. 


None knew whether we should find a bot- > 


tom; but Kite soon sung out to “‘snub,’’. 
the anchor being down, with only six 
fathoms out. The lead corroborated this, 
and we had the comfortable assurance of 
being not only among breakers, but just 
near the coast. The holding-ground, how- 


268 


ever, was reported good, and we went to 
In half 
an hour the ship was snug, riding by the 


work and rolled up all our rags. 


stream, with a strong current, or tide, 


setting exactly northeast, or directly op- 
As soon 
as Mr. Marble had ascertained this fact I 
him grumbling about some- 
thing, of which I could distinctly under- 
stand nothing but the words “ bloody cape 


posite to the captain’s theory. 


overheard 


—bloody current.”’ 


—_—_— 


CHAPTER V. 


“They hurried us aboard a bark; 
Bore us some leagues to sea; where they 
prepared 
A rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg’d, 
Nor tackle, sail, nor mast: the very rats 
Instinctively had girt us.”—TEMPEST. 


THE hour that succeeded in the calm 
of expectation, was one of the most dis- 
As soon as the ship 


quieting of my life. 
was secured, and there no longer re- 


mained anything to do, the stillness of 
death reigned among us; the faculties of 


every man and boy appeared to be ab- 
sorbed in the single sense of hearing—the 
best, and indeed the only, means we then 
possessed of judging of our situation. It 
was now apparent that we were near some 
place or places where the surf was break- 
ing on land; and the hollow, not-to-be- 
mistaken bellowings of the element, too 
plainly indicated that cavities in rocks 
frequently received, and as often rejected, 
the washing waters. Nor did these por- 
tentous sounds come from one quarter 
only, but they seemed to surround us ; 
now reached our ears from the known 
direction of the land, now from the south, 
the northeast, and, in fact, from every 
direction. There were instances when 
these moanings of the ocean sounded as 
if close under our stern, and then again 
they came from some point within a fear- 
ful proximity to the bows. 

Happily the wind was light, and the 
ship rode with a moderate strain on the 
cable, so as to relieve us from the appre- 
hension of immediate destruction. There 
was a long heavy ground-swell rolling in 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


from the southwest, but, the lead giving 


us eight fathoms, the sea did not break 
exactly where we lay ; though the sullen 
washing that came to our ears, from time 
to time, gave unerring notice that it was 
doing so quite near us, independently of 
the places where it broke upon the rocks. 
At one time the captain’s impatience was 
So goading that he had determined to pull 
round the anchorage in a boat, in order 
to anticipate the approach of light; but 
a suggestion from Mr. Marble that he 
might unconsciously pull into a roller, 
and capsize, induced him to wait for day. 


The dawn appeared at last, after two © 


or three of the longest hours I remember 
ever to have passed. Never shall I for- 
get the species of furious eagerness with 
which we gazed about us. In the first 
place, we got an outline of the adjacent 
land; then, as light diffused itself more 
and more into the atmosphere, we caught 
glimpses of its details. It was soon cer- 
tain we’ were within a cable’s length of 
perpendicular cliffs of several hundred 
feet in height, into whose caverns the sea 
poured at times, producing those fright- 
ful, hollow moanings that an experienced 
ear can never mistake. This cliff ex- 
tended for leagues in both directions, 
rendering drowning nearly inevitable to 
the shipwrecked mariner on that inhos- 
pitable coast. Ahead, astern, outside of 
us, and I might almost Say all around 
us, became visible, one after another, de- 
tached ledges, breakers and ripples ; so 
many proofs of the manner in which Provi- 
dence had guided us through the hours 
of darkness. 

By the time the sun appeared, for, hap- 
pily, the day proved bright and clear, we 
had obtained pretty tolerable notions of 
the critical situation in which we were 
placed by means of the captain’s theory 
of currents. The very cape that we were 
to drift past, lay some ten leagues nearly 
dead to windward, as the breeze then 
was; while to leeward, far as the’ eye 
could reach, stretched the same inhospit- 


able barrier of rock as that which lay on © 


our starboard quarter and beam. Such 
was my first introduction to the island 


of Madagascar ; a portion of the world i Bi 


a {yy ee 


ea ee ee ee 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


which, considering its position, magnitude 
and production, the mariners of Christen- 
dom probably know less than of any other. 
At the time of which I am writing, far 
less had been learned of this vast country 
than is known to-day, though the knowl- 
edge of even our own immediate con- 
temporaries is of an exceedingly limited 
character. | 

Now that the day had returned, the sun 
was shining on us cheerfully, and the sea 
looked tranquil and assuring, the captain 
became more pacified. He had discretion 
enough to understand that time and ex- 


- amination were indispensable to moving 


the ship with safety ; and he took the wise 
course of ordering the people to get their 
breakfasts, before he set us at work. The 
hour that was thus employed forward, 
was passed aft in examining the appear- 
ance of the water, and the positions of the 
reefs around the ship. By the time we 
were through, the captain had swallowed 
his cup of coffee and eaten his. biscuit ; 
and, calling away four of the most ath- 
letic oarsmen, he got into the jolly-boat, 
and set out on the all-important duty of 
discovering a channel seaward. The lead 
was kept moving, and 1 shall leave the 
party thus employed for an hour or more, 
while we turn our attention in-board. 
Marble beckoned me aft, aS soon as 
Captain Robbins was in the boat, ap- 
parently with a desire to say something 
in private. I understood the meaning of 
his eye, and followed him down into the 


steerage, where all that was left of the 


ship’s water was now stowed, that on 
deck having been already used. The 
mate had a certain consciousness about 
him that induced great caution, and he 
would not open his lips until he had rum- 


-maged about below some time, affecting 


to look for a set of blocks that might be 
wanted for some purpose or other, on 
deck. When this had lasted a little time, 
he turned short round to me, and let out 
the secret of the whole maneuver. 

“Tl tell you what, Master Miles,’’ he 
said, making a sign with a finger to be 


cautious, «JT look upon this ship’s berth 
as worse than that of a city scavenger. 


plenty of rocks too. 
back, there is no wind to carry us through 
it, among these bloody currents, and 
there’s no harm in getting ready for the 
worst. 
man ’’—Rupert was generally thus styled 
in the ship—‘‘and clear away the launch 
first. Get everything out of it that don’t 
belong there; after which, do you put 
these breakers in, and wait for further 


utes the launch was clear. 
however, Mr. Kite came past, and de- 
sired to know “‘ what are you at there ?”’ 
I told him ’twas Mr. Marble’s orders, and 
the latter gave his own explanation of the 
matter. 


269 


If we knew the way 


So you get Neb and the gentle- 


orders. Make no fuss, putting all upon 


orders, and leave the rest to me.”’ 


I complied, of course, and in a few min- 
While busy, 


«<The launch may be wanted,’ he said, 
‘<<for I’ve no notion that jolly-boat will do 


to go out as far as we shall find it neces- 
sary to sound. So I am about to ballast 
the launch, and get her sails ready ; there’s 
no use in mincing matters in such a berth 
as this.” 


Kite approved of the idea, and even 


went so far as to suggest that it might be 
well enough to get the launch into the 


water at once, by way of saving time. 
The proposition was too agreeable to be 
rejected, and, to own the truth, all hands 


went to work to get up the tackles with a 
will, as it is called. In half an hour the 


poat was floating alongside the ship. 
Some said she would certainly be wanted 
to carry out the stream-anchor, if for 
nothing else; others observed that half a 
dozen boats would not be enough to find 
all the channel we wanted ; while Marble 
kept his eye, always in an underhand 
way, on his main object. The breakers 
we got in and stowed, filled with fresh 
water, by way of ballast. The masts 
were stepped, the oars were put on board, 
and a spare compass Was passed down, 
lest the ship might be lost in the thick 
weather, of which there was So much, just 
in that quarter of the world. All this 
was said and done so quietly that nobody 
took the alarm; and when the mate 
called out in a loud voice, ‘‘ Miles, pass a 


We’ve plenty of water all round us, and! bread-bag filled and some cold grub into 


270 WORKS 
that launch—the men may be hungry be- 
fore they get back,’’ no one seemed to 
think more was meant than was thus 
openly expressed. I had my _ private 
orders, however, and managed to get 
quite a hundred-weight of good cabin bis- 
cuit into the launch, while the cook was 
directed to fill his coppers with pork. I 
got some of the latter raw into the boat, 
too; raw pork being food that sailors in 
no manner disdain. They say it eats like 
chestnuts. 

In the meantime, the captain was busy 
in his exploring expedition, on the return 
from which he appeared to think he was 
better rewarded than has certainly fallen 
to the lot of others employed on another 
expedition which bears the same name. 
He was absent near two hours, and, when 
he got back, it was to renew his theory 
of what Mr. Marble called his “ bloody 
currents.”’ 

“T’ve got behind the curtain, Mr. 
Marble,’”? commenced Captain Robbins, 
before he was fairly alongside of the ship 
again, whereupon Marble muttered, “ ay ! 
ay! you’ve got behind the rocks too.” 
“It’s all owing to an eddy that is made 
in-shore by the main current, and we have 
stretched a leetle too far in.”’ 

Hven I thought to myself, what would 
have become of us had we stretched a 
leetle further in! The captain, however, 
seemed satisfied that he could carry the 
ship out, and as this was all we wanted, 
no one was disposed to be very critical. A 
word was said about the launch, which the 
mate had ordered to be dropped astern, 
out of the way, and the explanation 
seemed to mystify the captain. In the 
meanwhile, the pork was boiling furiously 
in the coppers. 

All hands were now called to get the 
anchor up. Rupert and I went aloft to 
loosen sails, and we stayed there until the 
royals were mast-headed. In a very few 
minutes the cable was up and down, and 
then came the critical part of the whole 
affair. The wind was still very light, and 
it was a question whether the ship could 
be carried past a reef of rocks that now 
_ began to show itself above water, and on 
which the long, heavy rollers, that came 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


undulating from the southwestern Atlan- 
tic, broke with a sullen violence that be- 
trayed how powerful was the ocean, even 
in its moments of slumbering peaceful- 
ness. The rising and falling of its surface 
was like that of some monster’s chest, as 
he respired heavily in sleep. 

Even the captain hesitated about letting 
go his hold of the bottom, with so strong 
a set of the water to leeward, and in so 
light a breeze. There was a sort of bight 
on our starboard bow, however, and Mr. 
Marble suggested it might be well to 
sound in that direction, as the water ap- 
peared smooth and deep. To him it looked 
as if there were really an eddy in-shore, 
which might hawse the ship up to wind- 
ward six or eight times her length, and 
thus more than meet the loss that must 
infallibly occur in first casting her head 
to seaward. The captain admitted the 
justice of this suggestion, and I was one 
of those who were told to go in the jolly- 
boat on this occasion. We pulled in 
toward the cliffs, and had not gone fifty 
yards before we struck an eddy, sure 
enough, which was quite as strong as the 
current in which the ship lay. This was 
a great advantage, and so much the more, 
because the water was of sufficient depth, 
quite up to the edge of the reef which 
formed the bight, and thus produced the 
change in the direction of the set. There 
was plenty of room, too, to handle the 
Ship in, and, all things considered, the 
discovery was extremely fortunate. In 
the bottom of this bight we should have 
gone ashore, the previous night, had not 
our ears been so much better than our 
noses. 

As soon as certain of the facts, the cap- 
tain pulled back to the ship, and. glad- 
dened the hearts of all on board with the 
tidings. We now manned the handspikes 
cheerily, and began to heave. I shall 
never forget the impression made on me 
by the rapid drift of the ship, aS soon as 
the anchor was off the bottom, and her 
bows were cast in-shore, in order to fill 
the sails. The land was so near that I 
noticed this drift by the rocks, and my 
heart was fairly in my mouth for a few 
seconds. But the John worked heautiful- 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


ly, and soon gathered away. Her bows 
did not strike the eddy, however, until we 
got fearful evidence of the strength of the 
true current, which had set us down 


nearly as low as the reef outside, to wind- 


ward of which it was indispensable for us 
to pass. Marble saw all this, and he 
whispered to me to tell the cook to pass 
the pork into the launch at once—not to 
mind whether it were particularly well 
done, or not. I obeyed, and had*to tend 
the foresheet myself, for my pains, when 
the order was given to ‘‘ ready about.”’ 
The eddy proved a true friend, but it 
did not carry us up much higher than the 
place where we had anchored, when it be- 
came necessary to tack. This was done 
in season, on account of our ignorance of 
all the soundings, and we had soon got 
the John’s head off-shore again. Draw- 
ing a short distance ahead, the main-top- 
sail was thrown aback, and the ship 
allowed to drift. In proper time it was 
filled, and we got round once more, look- 
ing into the bight. The maneuver was 
repeated, and this brought us up fairly 
under the lee of the reef, and just in the po- 
sition we desired to be. It was anervous 


- instant, I make no doubt, when Captain 


Robbins determined to trust the ship in 
the true current, and run the gauntlet of 
the rocks. The passage across which we 
had to steer, before we could possibly 
weather the nearest reef, was about a 
cable’s length in width, and the wind 
would barely let us lay high enough to take 
it at right angles. Then the air was so 
light, that I almost despaired of our doing 
anything. 

Captain Robbins put the ship into the 
current with great judgment. She was kept 
a rap-full until near the edge of the eddy, 
and then her helm was put nearly down, 
allat once. But for the current’s acting, in 
one direction, on her starboard bow, and 
the eddy’s passing in the other, on the 
larboard quarter, the vessel would have 
peen taken aback ; but these counteract- 
ing forces brought her handsomely on her 
course again, and that ina way to prevent 
her falling an inch to leeward. 

_ Now came the trial. The ship was kept 
a rap-full, and she went steadily across 


271 


the passage, favored, perhaps, by a little 


more breeze than had blown most of the 


morning. Still, our leeward set was fear- 


ful, and, as we approached the reef, ] 
eave all up. Marble screwed his lips to- 
gether, and his eyes never turned from 
the weather-leeches of the sails. 
body appeared to me to be holding his 
breath, as the ship rose on the long 
ground-swells, sending slowly ahead the 


Every- 


whole time. We passed the nearest point 
of the rocks on one of the rounded risings 
of the water, just touching lightly as we 


glided by the visible danger. The blow 
was light, and gave little cause for alarm. 


Captain Robbins now caught Marble by 


the hand, and was in the very act of 
heartily shaking it, when the ship came 


down very much in the manner that a 
man unexpectedly hghts on a stone, when 


he has no idea of having anything within 


two or three yards of his feet. The blow 
was tremendous, throwing half the crew 
down; at the same instant, all three ot 
the topmasts went to leeward. 

One has some difficulty in giving 4 
reader accurate notions of the confusion. 
of so awful a scene. The motion of the 
vessel was arrested suddenly, as it might. 
be by a wall, and the whole fabric seemed. 
to be shaken to dissolution. The very 
next roller that came in, which would 
have undulated in toward the land but 
for us, meeting with so large a body in its 
way, piled up and broke upon our decks, 
covering everything with water. At the 
same time, the hull lifted, and, aided by 
wind, sea and current, it set still further 
on the reef, thumping in a way to break 
strong iron bolts, like so many sticks of 
sealing-wax, and cracking the solid live 
oak of the floor-timbers as if they were 
made of willow. The captain stood 
aghast! For one moment despair was 
painfully depicted in his countenance; 
then he recovered his self-possession and 
seamanship. He gave the order to stand 
by to carry out to windward the stream- 
anchor in the launch, and to send a kedge 
to haul out by, in the jolly-boat. Marble 
answered with the usual “‘ay, ay, sir bi 
but before he sent us into the boats, he 
ventured to suggest that the ship had 


272 WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


bilgea already. He had heard timbers 


crack, about which he thought there could 
be no mistake. The pumps were sounded, 
and the ship had seven feet of water in 
her hold. This had made in about ten 
minutes. Still the captain would not give 
her up. He ordered us to commence 
throwing the teas overboard, in order to 
ascertain, if possible, the extent of the in- 
jury. A place was broken out in the 
wake of the main-hatch, and a passage 
was opened down into the lower hold, 
where we met the water. In the mean- 
time, a South-Sea man we had picked up 
at Canton dove down under the lee of the 
bilge of the ship. He soon came back and 
reported that a piece of sharp rock had 
gone quite through the planks. Every- 
thing tending to corroborate this, the 
captain called a council of all hands on 
the quarter-deck, to consult as to further 
measures. 

A merchantman has no claim on the 
services of her crew after she is hopelessly 
wrecked. The last have alien in law on 
the ship and cargo for their wages ; and it 
is justly determined that when this secur- 
‘ity fails, the claim for services ends. It 
followed, of course, that as soon as the 
John was given over we were all our own 


masters; and hence the necessity for 


bringing even Neb into the consultation. 
With a vessel-of-war it would have been 
different. In such a case the United States 
pays for the service, ship or no ship, wreck 
orno wreck ; and the seaman serves out 
his term of enlistment, be this longer or 
Shorter. Military discipline continues un- 
der all circumstances. 

Captain Robbins could hardly speak 
when we gathered round him on the fore- 
castle, the seas breaking over the quarter- 
deck in a way to render that Sanctuary a 
very uncomfortable berth. As soon as he 
could command himself, he told us that the 
“hip was hopelessly lost. How it had hap- 
pened he could not very well explain him- 
self, though he ascribed it to the fact that 
the currents did not run in the direction 
in which, according to all sound reason- 
ing, they ought to run. This part of the 
speech was not perfectly lucid, though, as 
I understood our unfortunate captain, the 


laws of Nature, owing to some inexplicable 
influence, had departed, in some way or 
other, from their ordinary workings ex- 
pressly to wreck the John. If this were 
not the meaning of what he said, Idid not 
understand this part of the address. 

The captain was much more explicit 
after he got out of the current. He told 
us that the island of Bourbon was only 
about four hundred miles from where we 
then were, and he thought it possible to 


go that distance, find some smal] craft, 


and come back, and still save part of the 
cargo, the sails, anchors, etc., etc. We 
might make such a trip of it as would 
give us all a lift, in the way of salvage, 
that might prove some compensation for 
our other losses. This sounded well, and 
it had at least the effect to give us some 
present object for our exertions ; it also 
made the danger we all ran of losing’ our 


lives less apparent. To land on the island 


of Madagascar, in that day, was out of 
the question. The people were then be- 
lieved to be far less civilized than in truth 
they were, and had a particularly bad 
character among mariners. WN othing re- 
mained, therefore, but to rig the boats, 
and make immediate dispositions for our 
departure. 

Now it was that we found the advan- 
tage of the preparations already made. 
Little remained to be done, and that 
which was done was much better done 
than if we had waited until the wreck 
was half full of water, and the seas were 
combing in upon her. The captain took 
charge of the launch, putting Mr, Marble, 
Rupert, Neb, myself, and the cook into 
the jolly-boat, with orders to keep as close 
as possible to himself. Both boats had 
Sails, and both were so arranged as to 
row in calms, or head winds. We took in 
rather more than our share of provisions 
and water, having two skillful caterers in 
the chief mate and cook ; and, having ob- 
tained a compass, quadrant, and a chart 
for our portion of the indispensables, all 
hands were ready for a start in about two 
hours after the ship had struck. 

It was just noon when we cast off from 
the wreck, and stood directly off the land. 
According to our calculations, the wind 


“ » 


_ grandly in the distance. 


suet ee ——e ee ee 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


enabled us to run with a clean full, on our 
true course. As the boats drew out into 
the ocean, we had abundant opportunities 
of discovering how many dangers we had 
escaped; and, for my own part, I felt 
deeply grateful, even then, as I was going 
out upon the wide Atlantic in a mere 
shell of a boat, at the mercy we had ex- 
perienced. No sooner were we fairly in 
deep water, than the captain and mate 
had a dialogue on the subject of the cur- 
rents again. Notwithstanding all the 
difficulties his old theory had brought him 
into, the former remained of opinion that 
the true current set to windward, and 
that we should so find it as soon as we got 
a little into the offing; while the mate 
was frank enough to say he had been of 
opinion, all along, that it ran the other 
way. The latter added that Bourbon was 
rather a small spot to steer for, and it 
might be better to get into its longitude, 
and then find it by meridian observations, 
than to make any more speculations 
about matters of which we knew nothing. 

The captain and Mr. Marble saw things 
differently, and we kept away accordingly, 
when we ought to have luffed all we could. 
Fortunately the weather continued moder- 
ate, or our little boat would have had a 
bad time of it. We outsailed the launch 
with ease, and were forced to reef in order 
not to part company. When the sun set, 
we were more than twenty miles from the 
land, seeing no more of the coast, though 
the mountains inland were still looming up 
I confess, when 
night shut in upon us, and I found myself 
on the wide ocean, in a boat much smaller 
than that with which»I used to navigate 
the Hudson, running every minute further 
and further into the watery waste, I began 
to think of Clawbonny, and its security, 
and quiet nights, and well-spread board, 
and comfortable beds, in a way I had 
never thought of either before. As for 
food, however, we were not stinted; Mr. 
Marble setting us an example of using our 
teeth on the half-boited pork, that did 
credit to his philosophy. ‘To do this man 
justice, he seemed to think a run of four 
hundred miles in a jolly-boat no great 
matter, but took everything as regularly 


273 


as if still on the deck of the John. Each 
of us got as good a nap as our cramped 
situations would allow. 

The wind freshened in the morning, and 
the sea began to break. This made it 
necessary to keep still more away, to pre- 
vent filling at times, or to haul close up, 
which might have done equally well. But 
the captain preferred the latter course, on 
account of the current. We had ticklish 
work of it, in the jolly-boat, more than 
once that day, and were compelled to 
carry a whole sail in order to keep up with 
the launch, which beat us, now the wind 
had increased. Marble was a terrible fel- 
low to carry on everything, ship or boat, 
and we kept our station admirably, the 
two boats never getting a cable’s length 
asunder, and running most of the time 
within hail of each other. As night ap- 
proached, however, a consultation was 
held on the subject of keeping in company. 
We had not been out thirty hours, and 
had made near a hundred and fifty miles, 
by our calculation. Luckily the wind had 
got to be nearly west, and we were run- 
ning ahead famously, though it was as 
much as we could do to keep the jolly-boat 
from filling. One hand was kept bailing 
most of the time, and sometimes all four 
of us were busy. These matters were 
talked over, and the captain proposed 
abandoning the jolly-boat altogether, and 
to take us into the launch, though there 
was not much vacant space to receive us. 
But the mate resisted this, answering that 
he thought he could take care of our boat 
a while longer, at least. Accordingly, the 
old arrangement was maintained, the 
party endeavoring to keep as near to- 
gether as possible. 

About midnight it began to blow in 
squalls, and two or three times we found 
it necessary to take in our sails, out oars, 
and pull the boat head to sea, in order to 
prevent her swamping: ‘The consequence 
was, that we lost sight of the launch, and, 
though we always kept away to our course 
as soon as the puffs would allow, when the 
sun rose we saw nothing of our late com- 
panions. Ihave sometimes thought Mr. 


Marble parted company on_ purpose, 


though he seemed much concerned next 


274 


morning when he ascertained the launch 
was nowhere to be seen. After looking 
about for an hour, and the wind moderat- 
ing, we made sail close on the wind ; a di- 
rection that would soon have taken us 
away from the launch, had the latter been 
close alongside when we first took it. We 
made good progress all this day, and at 
evening, having now been out fifty-four 
hours, we supposed ourselves to be rather 
more than half way on the road to our 
haven. It fell calm in the night, and the 
next morning we got the wind right aft. 
This gave us a famous shove, for we some- 
times made six and seven knots in the hour. 
The fair wind lasted thirty hours, during 
which time we must have made more than 
a hundred and fifty miles, it falling nearly 
calm about an hour before dawn, on the 
morning of the fourth day out. Every- 
body was anxious to see the horizon that 
morning, and every eye was turned to the 
east, with intense expectation, as the sun 
rose. It was in vain; there was not the 
least sign of land visible. 

Marble looked sadly disappointed, but 
he endeavored to cheer us up with the 
hope of seeing the island shortly. We 
were then heading due east, with a very 
light breeze from the northwest. I hap- 
pened to stand up in the boat, on a thwart, 
and, turning my face to the southward, I 
caught a glimpse of something that 
seemed like a hummock of land in that 
quarter. I saw it but for an instant, but, 
whatever it was, I saw it plain enough. 
Mr. Marble now got on the thwart, and 
looked in vain to catch the same object. 
He said there was no land in that quarter 
—could be none—and resumed his seat to 
steer to the eastward, a little north. I 
could not be easy, however, but remained 
on the thwart until the boat lifted ona 
swell higher than common, and then I 
saw the brown, hazy-looking spot on the 
margin of the ocean again. My protesta- 
. tions now became so earnest that Marble 
consented to stand for an hour in the di- 
rection I pointed out to him. ‘“ One hour, 
boy, I will grant you, to shut your 
mouth,’’ the mate said, taking out his 
watch, ‘‘and that you need lay nothing to 
my door hereafter.’? To make the most 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


of this hour, I got my companions at 
the oars, and we all pulled with hearty 
good-will. So much importance did I 
attach to every fathom of distance made, 
that we did not rise from our seats until 
the mate told us to stop rowing, for the 
hour was up. As for himself, he had not 
risen either, but kept looking behind him 
to the eastward, still hoping to see land 
somewhere in that quarter. 

My heart beat violently as I got upon 
the thwart, but there lay my hazy object, 
now never dipping at all. I shouted 
‘‘Land ho!’ Marble jumped upon a 
thwart, too, and no longer disputed my 
word. It was land, he admitted, and it 
must-be the island of Bourbon, which we 
had passed to the northward, and must 
soon have given a hopelessly wide berth. 


We went to the oars again with renewed > 


life, and soon made the boat spin. All 
that day we kept rowing, untii about five 
in the afternoon, when we found ourselves 
within a few leagues of the island of 
Bourbon, where we were met by a fresh 
breeze from the southward, and were 
compelled to make sail. The wind was 
dead on end, and we made stretches under 
the lee of the island, going about as we 
found the sea getting to be too heavy for 
us, aS was invariably the case whenever 
we got too far east or west. In a word, 
a lee was fast becoming necessary. By 
ten, we were within a mile of the shore, 
but saw no place where we thought it 
safe to attempt a landing in the dark; a 
long, heavy sea setting in round both 
sides of the island, though the water did 
not break much where we remained. At 
length the wind got to be so heavy that 
we could not carry even our sail double- 
reefed, and we kept two oars pulling 
lightly in, relieving each other every 
hour. 
ly, and glad enough were we to find a 
little cove where it was possible to get 
ashore. JI had then never felt so grateful 
to Providence as I did when I got my 
feet on terra firma. 

We remained on the island a week, hop- 
ing to see the launch and her crew ; but 
neither appeared. Then we got a passage 
to the Isle of France, on arriving at which 


By daylight it blew tremendous- 


1 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


place we found the late gale was consid- 
ered to have been very serious. There 
was no American consul in the island, at 
that time; and Mr. Marble, totally with- 
out credit or means, found it impossible to 
obtain a craft of any sort to go to the 
wreck in. We were without money, too, 
and a homeward-bound Calcutta vessel 
coming in, we joined her to work our pas- 
sages home, Mr. Marble as dickey, and 
the rest of us in the forecastle. ‘This ves- 
sel was called the Tigris, and belonged to 
Philadelphia. She was considered one of 
the best ships out of America, and her 
master had a high reputation for seaman- 
ship and activity. He was a little man of 
the name of Digges, and was under thirty 
at the time I first knew him. He took us 
on board purely out of a national feeling, 
for his ship was strong-handed without us, 
having thirty-two souls, all told, when he 
received us five. We afterward learned 
that letters sent after the ship had in- 


duced Captain Digges to get five addi- | 


tional hands in Calcutta, in order to be 
able to meet the picaroons that were then 
beginning to plunder American vessels, 
even on their own coast, under the pre- 
tense of their having violated certain 


regulations made by the two great bel- 


ligerents of the day, in Kurope. This was 
just the commencement of the quast war 
which broke out a few weeks later with 
France. 

Of all these hostile symptoms, however, 
I then knew little and cared less. Even 
Mr. Marble had never heard of them, and 
we five joined the Tigris merely to get 
passages home, without entertaining 
second thoughts of running any risks fur- 
ther than the ordinary dangers of the 
seas. 

The Tigris sailed the day we joined her, 
which’ was the third after we reached 
Mauritius, and just fifteen days after we 
had left the wreck. We went to sea with 
the wind at the southward, and had a 
good run off the island, making more than 
a hundred miles that afternoon and in the 
course of the night. Next morning, 
early, I had the watch, and order was 
given to set topgallant studding-sails. 
Rupert and I had got into the same watch 


| 


| so many lifeless bales of goods. 


279 


on board this vessel, and we both went 
aloft to reeve the gear. I had taken up 
the end of the halyards, and had reeved 
them, and had overhauled the end down, 
when, in raising my head, I saw two small 
lug-sails on the ocean, broad on our 
weather-bow, which I recognized in an 
instant for those of the John’s launch. I 
cannot express the feeling that came over 
me at that sight. I yelled, rather than 
shouted, “Sail ho!’’? and then, pushing 
in, I caught hold of a royal-backstay, and 
was on deck in an instant. I believe I 
made frantic gestures to windward, for 
Mr. Marble, who had the watch, had to 
shake me sharply before I could let the 
fact be known. 

As soon as Marble comprehended me, 
and got the bearings of the boat, he 
hauled down all the studding-sails, braced 
sharp up on a wind, set the mainsail, and 
then sent down a report to Captain 
Digges for orders. Our new commander 
was a humane man, and having been told 
our whole story, he did not hesitate about 
confirming all that had been done. As 
the people in the launch had made out the 
ship some time before I saw the boat, the 
latter was running down upon us, and, in 
about an hour, the tiny sails were descried 
from the deck. In less than an hour after 
this, our main-yard swung round, throw- 
ing the topsail aback, and the well-known 
launch of the John rounded-to close under 
our lee; a rope was thrown, and the boat 
was hauled alongside. 

Everybody in the Zigris was shocked 
when we came to get a look at the con- 
dition of the strangers. One man, a pow- 
erful negro, lay dead in the bottom of the 
boat; the body having been kept for a 
dreadful alternative, in the event of his 
companions falling in with no other relief. 

Three more of the men were nearly 
gone, and had to be whipped on board as 
Captain 
Robbins and Kite, both athletic, active . 
men, resembled specters, their eyes stand- 
ing out of their heads as if thrust from 
their sockets by some internal foe; and 
when we spoke to them, they all seemed 
unable to answer. It was not fasting or 
want of food, that had reduced them to 


276 WORKS 
this state, so much as want of water. It 
is true, they had no more bread left than 
would keep body and soul together for a 
few hours longer; but of water they had 
tasted not a drop for seventy odd hours ! 
It appeared that, during the gale, they 
had been compelled to empty the breakers 
to lighten the boat, reserving only one 
for their immediate wants. By some mis- 
take the one reserved was nearly half 
empty at the time ; and Captain Robbins 
believed himself then so near Bourbon, 
as not to go on an allowance until it was 
too late. In this condition had they been 
searching for the island quite ten days, 
passing it, but never hitting it. The winds 
had not favored them, and, the last few 
days, the weather had been such as to 
admit of no observation. Consequently, 
they had been as much out of their reck- 
oning in their latitude as in their longi- 
tude. 

A gleam of intelligence, and I thought 
of pleasure, shot athwart the countenance 
of Captain Robbins, as I helped him over 
the Tigris’s side. He saw I was safe. He 
tottered as he walked, and leaned heavily 
on me for support. I was about to lead 
him aft, but his eye caught sight of a 
scuttle-but, and the tin-pot on its head. 
Thither he went, and stretched out a 
trembling hand to the vessel. I gave him 
the pot as it was, with about a wine-glass 
of water in it. This he swallowed at a 
gulp, and then tottered forward for more. 
By this time Captain Digges joined us, 
and gave the proper directions how to 
proceed. All the sufferers had water in 
small quantities given them, and it is 
wonderful with what expressions of de- 
light they received the grateful beverage. 
As soon as they understood the necessity 
of keeping it as long as possible in their 
mouths, and on their tongues, before swal- 
lowing it, a little did them a great deal of 
good. After this, we gave them some 
' coffee, the breakfast being ready, and then 
a little ship’s biscuit soaked in wine. By 
such means every man was saved, though 
it was near a month before all were them- 
Selves again. As for Captain Robbins 
and Kite, they were enabled to attend to 
duty by the end of a week, though noth- 


OF FENIMORE 


COOPER. 


ing more was exacted of them than they 
chose to perform. 


CHAPTER VI. 


“The yesty waves 
Confound and swallow navigation up.’’—MACBETH. 


Poor Captain Robbins! No sooner did 
he regain his bodily strength than he be- 
gan to endure the pain of mind that was 
inseparable from the loss of his ship. 
Marble, who, now that he had fallen to 
the humbler condition of a second mate, 
was more than usually disposed to be com- 
municative with me, gave me to under- 
stand that our old superior had at first 
sounded Captain Digges on the subject of 
proceeding to the wreck, in order to ascer- 
tain what could be saved; but the latter 
had soon convinced him that a first-rate 
Philadelphia Indiaman had something else 
to do besides turning wrecker. After a 
pretty broad hint to this effect, the John 
and all that was in her were abandoned 
to their fate. Marble, however, was of 
opinion that the gale in which the launch 
came so near being lost must have broken 
the ship entirely to pieces, giving her 
fragments to the ocean. We never heard 
of her fate or recovered a single article 
that belonged to her. 

Many were the discussions between 
Captain Robbins and his two mates, 
touching the error in reckoning that had 
led them so far from their course. In 
that day, navigation was by no means as 
simple a thing as it has since become. It 
is true, lunars were usually attempted in 
India and China ships; but this was not 
an everyday affair, like the present morn- 
ing and afternoon observations to obtain 
the time, and, by means of the chronom- 
eter, the longitude. Then we had so re- 
cently got clear of the islands as to have 
no great need of any extraordinary head- 
work; and the ‘‘ bloody currents’? had 
acted their pleasure with us for eight or 
ten days before the loss of the ship. 


Marble was a very good navigator, one 


of the best I ever sailed with, in spite of 
the plainness of his exterior and his rough 
deportment; and, all things considered, 


calmer than 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


274 


he treated his old commander with great | fancy my country and countrymen right 
delicacy, promising to do all he could when | in all their transactions, merely because 


he got home to clear the matter up. As 
for Kite, he knew but little, and had the 
discretion to say but little. This modera- 
tion rendered our passage all the more 
agreeable. 

The Tigris was a very fast ship, besides 
being well found. She was a little larger 
than the John, and mounted twelve guns, 
nine-pounders. In consequence of the 
additions made to her crew, one way and 
another, she now mustered nearer fifty 
than forty souls on board. Captain 
Digges had certain martial tastes, and 
long before we were up with the cape, he 
had us all quartered and exercised at the 
guns. He, too, had had an affair with 
some proas, and he loved to converse of 
the thrashing he had giventherascals. I 
thought he envied us our exploit, though 
this might have been mere imagination on 
my part, for he was liberal enough in his 
commendations. The private intelligence 
he had received of the relations between 
France and America quickened his natural 
impulses; and, by the time we reached 
St. Helena, the ship might have been said 
to be in good fighting order for a mer- 
chantman. We touched at this _last- 
mentioned island for supplies, but obtained 
no news of any interest. Those who sup- 
plied the ship could tell us nothing but the 
names of the Indiamen who had gone out 
and home for the last twelvemonth, and 
the prices of fresh meat and vegetables. 
Napoleon civilized them seventeen years 
later. 

We had a good run from St. Helena to 
the calm latitudes, but these last proved 
commont We_ worried 
through them after a while, however, and 
then did very well until we got in the lati- 
tude of the Windward Islands. Marble 
one day remarked to me that Captain 
Digges was standing closer to the French 
island of Gatideloupe than was atall neces- 
sary or prudent if he believed in his own 
reports of the danger there existed to 
American commerce in this quarter of the 
ocean. 

I have lived long enough, and have 


geen too much of men and things to 


newspapers, members of Congress, and 
Fourth of July orators are pleased to 
affirm the doctrine. No one can go much 
to sea without reading with great distrust 
many of the accounts in the journals of 
that day of the grievous wrongs done the 
commerce of America by the authorities 
of this or that port, the seizure of such a 
ship, or the imprisonment of some partic- 
ular set of officers andmen. Asa rule, it 
is safer to assume that the afflicted parties 
deserve all that has happened to them, 
than to believe them immaculate; and 
quite likely much more too. The habit of 
receiving such appeals to their sympathies 
renders the good people of the Republic 
peculiarly liable to impositions of this 
nature ; and the mother who encourages 
those of her children who fetch and 
carry will be certain to have her ears 
filled with complaints and tattle. Never- 
theless, it is a fact beyond all dispute, 
that the commerce of the country was 
terribly depredated on by nearly all the 
European belligerents between the com- 
mencement of the war of the French 
Revolution and its close. So enormous 
were the robberies thus committed on 
the widely-extended trade of this nation, 
under one pretense or another, as tou 
give a coloring of retributive justice, if 
not of moral right, to the recent fail- 
ures of certain States among us_ to 
pay their debts. Providence singularly 
avenges all wrongs by its unerring 
course; and I doubt not, if the facts 
could be sifted to the bottom, it would 
be found the devil was not permitted to 
do his work in either case without using 
the materials supplied by the sufferers in 
some direct or indirect manner them- 
selves. 

Of all the depredations on American 
trade just mentioned, those of the great 
sister republic, at the close of the last 
century, were among the most grievous, 
and were of a character so atrocious and 
bold, that I confess it militates somewhat 
against my theory to admit that France 
owns very little of the ‘‘ suspended debt ; af 
but I account for this last circumstance 


218 


by the reparation she in part made by the 
With England it is dif- 


treaty of 1831. 
ferent. She drove us into a war by the 


effects of her orders in council and paper 


blockades, and compelled us to expend a 
hundred millions to set matters right. I 
Should like to see the books balanced, not 
by the devil, who equally instigated the 
robberies on the high seas, and the *‘ sus- 
pension’ or ‘‘repudiation’’ of the State 
debts; but by the great accountant who 
keeps a record of all our deeds of this 
nature, whether it be to take money by 
means of cruising ships, or cruising scrip. 
It is true these rovers encountered very 
differently-looking victims in the first 
place; but it is a somewhat trite re- 
mark, that the aggregate of human be- 
ings is pretty much the same in all 
situations. There were widows and or- 
phans as much connected with the con- 
demnation of prizes as with the prices 
of condemned stock; and I do not see 
that fraud is any worse when carried on 
by scriveners and clerks with quills be- 
hind their ears than when carried on by 
gentlemen wearing cocked hats and car- 
rying swords by their sides. On the 
whole, I am far from certain that the 
account-current of honesty is not slightly 
—honesty very slightly leavens either 
transaction—in favor of the non-paying 
States, as men do sometimes borrow with 
good intentions, and fail, from inability, 
to pay ; whereas, in the whole course of 
my experience, I never knew a captor of 
a ship who intended to give back any 
of the prize-money if he could help it. But 
to return to my adventures. 

We were exactly in the latitude of 
Guadeloupe, with the usual breeze, when, 
at daylight, a rakish-looking brig was 
seen in chase. Captain Digges took a long 
survey of the stranger with his best glass 
—one that was never exhibited but on 
state occasions—and then he pronounced 
him to be a French cruiser ; most prob- 
ably a privateer. That he was a French- 
man, Marble affirmed, was apparent by 
the height of his topmasts and the short- 
ness of his yards; the upper sparsin par- 
ticular, being mere apologies for yards. 
Everybody who had any right to an opin- 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER, 


ion, was satisfied the brig was a French 


cruiser, either public or private. 

The Tigris was a fast ship, and she was 
under topmast and topgallant studding- 
sails at the time, going about seven knots. 
The brig was on an easy bowline, evident- 
ly looking up for our wake, edging off 
gradually as we drew ahead. She went 
about nine knots, and bade fair to close 
with us by noon. There was a good deal 


of doubt, aft, as to the course we ought to. 


pursue. It was decided in the end, how- 
ever, to shorten sail and let the brig come 
up, as being less subject to cavils, than to 
seem to avoid her. Captain Digges got 
out his last letters from home, and I saw 
him showing them to Captain Robbins, 
the two conning them over with great 
earnestness. I was sent to do some duty 
near the hen-coops, where they were sit- 
ting, and overheard a part of their conver- 
sation. From the discourse, I gathered 
that the proceedings of these picaroons 
were often equivocal, and that Americans 
were generally left in doubt, until a favor- 
able moment occurred for the semi-pirates 
to effect their purposes. The party as- 
sailed did not know when or how to defend 
himself, until it was too late. 

‘““These chaps come aboard you, some- 


times, before you’re aware of what they 


are about,’’ observed Captain Robbins. 
“Tl not be taken by surprise in that 

fashion,’ returned Digges, after a mo- 

ment of reflection. ‘‘ Here, you Miles, 


go forward and tell the cook to fill his { 


coppers with water, and to set it boiling 
as fast as he can; and tell Mr. Marble I 
want him aft. Bear a hand, now, young- 
ster, and give them a lift yourself.” 


Of course I ebeyed, wondering what — 


the captain wanted with so much hot 
water as to let the people eat their din- 
ners off cold grub, rather than dispense 
with it ; for this was a consequence of his 
decree. But we had not got the coppers 
half filled, before I saw Mr. Marble and 
Neb lowering a small ship’s engine from 


the launch, and placing it near the galley,: 


in readiness to be filled. The mate told 
Neb to screw on the pipe, and then half a 
dozen of the men, as soon as we got 
through with the coppers, were told to 


ee a . a 


Oe 


gan the work below. 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


fill the engine with sea water. Captain 
Digges now came forward to superintend 
the exercise, and Neb jumped on the 
engine, flourishing the pipe about with 
the delight of a ‘‘nigger.’’ The captain 
was diverted with the black’s zeal, and he 
appointed him captain of the firemen on 
the spot. 

«<Now let us see what you can do at 
that forward dead-eye, darkey,’’ said 
Captain Digges, laughing. ‘ Take it 
directly on the strap. Play away, boys, 
and let Neb try his hand.”’ 

‘It happened that Neb hit the dead-eye 
at the first jet, and he showed great readi- 
ness in turning the stream from point to 
point, as ordered. Neb’s conduct on the 
night of the affair with the proas had 
been told to Captain Digges, who was so 
well pleased with the fellow’s present dex- 
terity, as to confirm him in office. He 
was told to stick by the engine at every 
hazard. Soon after, an order was given 
to clear for action. This had an ominous 
sound to my young ears, and, though I 
have no reason to suppose myself defi- 
cient in firmness, I confess I began to 
think again of Clawbonny, and Grace, 
and Lucy ; ay, and even of the mill. This 
lasted but for a moment, however, and, as 
soon as I got at work, the feeling gave 
me no trouble. Wewere an hour getting 
the ship ready, and, by that time, the 
brig was within half a mile, luffing fairly 
up on our lee-quarter. As we had short- 
ened sail, the privateer manifested no in- 
tention of throwing a shot to make us 
heave-to. She seemeg disposed to extend 
courtesy for courtesy. 

The next order was for all hands to go 
to quarters. I was stationed in the main- 
top, and Rupert in the fore. Our duties 
were to do light work, in the way of re- 
pairing damages ; and the captain, under- 
standing that we were both accustomed 
to firearms, gave us a musket apiece, with 
orders to blaze away as soon as they be- 
As we had both 
stood fire once, we thought ourselves vet- 
erans, and proceeded to our stations, 
smiling and nodding to each other as we 
went up the rigging. Of the two, my 
station was the best, since I could see the 


not escaped the weakness. 


219 


approach of the brig, the mizzen-topsail 
offering but little obstruction to vision 
after she got near; whereas the main- 
topsail was a perfect curtain, so far as 
poor Rupert was concerned. In the way 
of danger, there was not much difference 
as to any of the stations on board, the 
bulwarks of the ship being little more 
than plank that would hardly stop a mus- 
ket ball; and then the French had a repu- 
tation for firing into the rigging. 

As soon as all was ready, the captain 
sternly ordered silence. By this time the 
brig was near enough to hail. I could see 
her decks quite plainly, and they were 
filled with men. I counted her guns, too, 
and ascertained she had but ten, all of 
which seemed to be lighter than our own. 
One circumstance that I observed, how- 
ever, was suspicious. Her forecastle was 
crowded with men, who appeared to be 
crouching behind the bulwarks, as if anx- 
ious to conceal their presence from the 
eyes of those inthe Tigris. Thad a mind 
to jump on a backstay and slip down on 
deck, to let this threatening appearance 


be known; but I had heard some sayings 


touching the imperative duty of remain- 
ing at quarters in face of the enemy, and 
I did not like to desert my station. Tyros 


have always exaggerated notions, both of 


their rights and their duties, and I had 
Still, I think 
some credit is due for the alternative 
adopted. During the whole voyage I had 
kept a reckoning, and paper and pencils 
were always in my pocket, in readiness to 
catch a moment to finish a day’s work. 
TI wrote as follows on a piece of paper, 
therefore, as fast as possible, and dropped 
the billet on the quarter-deck, by inclos- 
ing a copper in the scrawl, cents then 
being in their infancy. I had merely 
written, “The brig’s forecastle is filled 
with armed men, hid behind the bul- 
warks!’? Captain Digges heard the fall 
of the copper, and looking up—nothing 
takes an officer’s eyes aloft quicker than 
to find anything coming out of a top !—he 
saw me pointing to the paper. I was re- 
warded for this liberty by an approving 
nod. Captain Digges read what I had 
written, and I soon observed Neb and the 


280 


cook filling the engine with boiling water. 
This job was no sooner done than a good 
place was selected on the quarter-deck 
for this singular implement of war, and 
then a hail came from the brig. ‘ 

“Vat zat sheep is?’’? demanded some 
one from the brig. 

“The Tigris of Philadelphia, from Cal- 
cutta home. What brig is that ?”’ 
“La Folie—corsmr Francais. 

vair you come ?”’ 
‘‘From Calcutta. 


From 


And where are you 


from? ”’ 
“Guadeloupe. Vair you go, eh?” 
“Philadelphia. Do not lug so near me; 


Some accident may happen.’’ 

“Vat you call ‘ accident ?’ Can nevair 
hear, eh? I will come tout prés.’’ 

‘““Give us a wider berth, I tell you! 
Here is your jib-boom nearly foul of my 
mizzen-rigging.”’ 


“Vat mean zat, bert’ vidair? eh! 
Allons, mes enfants, c’est le mo- 
ment |”? 


‘* Luff a little, and keep his spar clear,”’ 
cried our captain. ‘Squirt away, Neb, 
and let us see what you can do!”’ 

_ The engine made a movement, just as 
the French began to run out on their bow- 
Sprit, and, by the time six or eight were 
on the heel of the jib-boom, they were met 
by the hissing hot stream, which took 
them en echelon, as it might be, fairly 
raking the whole line. The effect was in- 
stantaneous. Physical nature cannot 
stand excessive heat, unless particularly 
well supplied with skin; and the three 
leading Frenchmen, finding retreat im- 
possible, dropped incontinently into the 
Sea, preferring cold water to hot—the 
_ chances of drowning, to the certainty of 
being scalded. I believe all three were 
saved by their companions in-board, but I 
will not vouch for the fact. The remain- 
der of the intended boarders, having the 
bowsprit before them, scrambled back 
upon the brig’s forecastle as well as they 
could, betraying, by the random way in 
which their hands flew about, that they 
had a perfect consciousness how much 
they left their rear exposed on the retreat. 
A hearty laugh was heard on all parts of 
the Tigris, and the brig, putting her helm 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


hard up, wore round like a top, as if she 
were scalded herself.* 

We all expected a broadside now ; but 
of that there was little apprehension, as 
it was pretty certain we carried the heavi- 
est battery, and had men enough to work 
it. But the brig did not fire, I suppose, 
because we fell off a little ourselves, and 
she perceived it might prove a losing 
game. On the contrary, she went quite 
round on her heel, hauling up on the other 
tack far enough to bring the two vessels 
exactly dos a dos. Captain Digges ordered 
two of the quarter-deck nines to be run 
out of the sternports; and it was well he 
did, for it was not in nature for men to be 
treated as our friends in the brig had been 
served, without manifesting certain signs 
of ill-humor. The vessels might have been 
three cables’ length asunder when we got 
a gun. The first I knew of a shot was 
to hear it plunge through the mizzen-top- 
sail, then it came whistling through my 
top, between the weather-rigging and the 
mast-head, cutting a hole through the 
main-topsail, and, proceeding onward, I 
heard it strike something more solid than 
canvas. I thought of Rupert and the fore- 
top in an instant, and looked anxiously 
down on deck to ascertain if he were 
injured. 

‘“‘Foretop there!’ called out Captain 
Digges. ‘‘ Where did that shot strike ? ”’ 

“In the mast-head,’’ answered Rupert, 
in a clear, firm voice. “It has done no 
damage, sir.”’ 

‘““Now’s your time, Captain Robbins— 
give ’em a reminder.”’ 

Both our nines were fired, and a few 
seconds after, three cheers arose from the 
decks of our ship. I could not see the brig, 
now, for the mizzen-topsail ; but I after- 
ward learned that we had shot away her 
gaff. This terminated the combat, in 
which the glory was acquired principally 
by Neb. They told me, when I got down 
among the people again, that the black’s 
face had been dilated with delight the 
whole time, though he stood fairly expos- 
ed to musketry, his mouth grinning from 


nr 


* This incident actually occurred in the war of 
1798. 


ad Ee 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


ear to ear. Neb was justly elated with 
the success that attended this exhibition 


-of his skill, and described the retreat of our 


enemies with a humor and relish that 
raised many a laugh at the discomfited pri- 
vateersman. It is certain that some of the 
fellows must have been nearly parboiled. 

I have always supposed this affair be- 
tween La Folie and the Tigris to have 
been the actual commencement of hostili- 
ties in the quasi war of 1798-99 and 1800. 
Other occurrences soon supplanted it in 
the public mind, but we of the ship never 
ceased to regard the adventure as one of 
great national interest. It did prove to be 
a nine days’ wonder in the newspapers. 

From this time nothing worthy of being 
noted occurred until we reached the coast. 
We had got as high as the capes of Vir- 
ginia, and were running in for the land, 
with a fair wind, when we made a ship in- 
shore of us. The stranger hauled up to 
speak us as soon as we were seen. There 
was a good deal of discussion about this 
vessel, as she drew near, between Captain 
Digges and his chief mate. The latter 
said he knew the vessel, and that it was 
an Indiaman out of Philadelphia, called 
the Ganges, a sort of sister craft to our 
own ship; while the former maintained, 
if it were the Ganges at all, she was so 
altered as scarcely to be recognized. As 
we got near, the stranger threw a shot 
under our fore-foot, and showed an 
American pennant and ensign. Getting 
a better look at her, we got so many signs 
of a vessel-of-war in our neighbor, as to 
think it wisest to heave-to, when the other 
vessel passed under our stern, tacked, and 
lay with her head-yards aback, a little on 
our weather-quarter. As she drew to 
windward, we saw her stern, which had 
certain national emblems, but no name on 
it. This settled the matter. She was a 
man-of-war, and she carried the American 
flag! Such a thing did not exist a few 
months before, when we left home, and 
Captain Digges was burning with impa- 
tience to know more. He was soon 
gratified. 

“Ts not that the Tigris ?’’? demanded 
a voice, through a trumpet, from the 
stranger. | 


281 


«Ay, ay! What ship is that ?”’ 

‘©The United States ship Ganges, Cap- 
tain Dale ; from the capes of the Delaware, 
bound ona cruise. You’re welcome home, 
Captain Digges; we may want some of 
your assistance under a cockade.”’ 

Digges gave a long whistle, and then 
the mystery was out. This proved to be 
the Ganges, as stated, an Indiaman 
bought into a new navy, and the first 
ship-of-war ever sent to sea under the 
government of the country as it had ex- 
isted since the adoption of the Constitu- 
tion nine years before. The privateers of 
France had driven the republic into an 
armament, and ships were fitting out in 
considerable numbers; some being pur- 
chased, like the Ganges, and others built 
expressly for the new marine. Captain 
Digges went on board the Ganges, and, 
pulling an oar in his boat, I had a chance 
of seeing that vessel also. Captain Dale, 
a compact, strongly-built, seaman-like 
looking man, in a blue and white uniform, 
received our skipper with a cordial shake 
of the hand, for they had once sailed to- 
gether, and he laughed heartily when he 
heard the story of the boarding party and 
the hot water. This respectable officer 
had no braggadocio about him, but he in- 
timated that it would not be long, as he 
thought, before the rovers among the isl- 
ands would have their hands full. Con- 
gress was in earnest, and the whole coun- 
try was fairly aroused. Whenever that 
happens in America, it is usually to take 
a new and better direction than to follow 
the ordinary blind impulses of popular 
feelings. In countries where the masses 
count for nothing, in the everyday work- 
ing of their systems, excitement has a 
tendency to democracy ; but among our- 
selves, I think the effect of such a condi- 
tion of things is to bring into action men 
of qualities that are commonly of little ac- 
count, and to elevate, instead of depress- 
ing, public sentiment. 

IT was extremely pleased with the manly, 
benevolent countenance of Captain Dale, 
and had a desire to ask leave to join his 
ship onthe spot. Ifthat impulse had been 
followed, it is probable my future life 
would have been very different from what 


282 


it subsequently proved. I should have 
been rated a midshipman, of course, and, 
serving so early, with a good deal of ex- 
perience already in ships, a year or two 
would have made me a lieutenant, and, 
could I have survived the pruning of 1801, 
I should now have been one of the oldest 
officers in the service. Providence direct- 
ed otherwise ; and how much was lost, or 
how much gained, by my continuance in 
the Tigris, the reader will learn as we 
proceed. 

As soon as Captain Digges had taken a 
glass or two of wine with his old acquaint- 
ance, we returned to our own ship, and 
the two vessels made sail; the Ganges 
standing off to the northward and east- 
ward, while we ran in for the capes of the 
Delaware. We got in under Cape May, 
or within five miles of it, the same even- 
ing, when it fell nearly calm. A pilot 
came off from the cape in a row-boat, and 
he reached us just at dark. Captain 
Robbins now became all impatient to land, 
as it was of importance to him to be the 
bearer of hisown bad news. Accordingly, 
an arrangement having been made with 
the two men who belonged to the shore- 
boat, our old commander, Rupert and my- 
self prepared to leave the ship, late as it 
was. We two lads were taken for the 
purpose of manning two additional oars, 
but were to rejoin the ship in the bay, if 
possible ; if not, up at town. One of the 
inducements of Captain Robbins to be off 
was the signs of northerly weather. It 
had begun to blow a little in puffs from 
the northwest ; and everybody knew, if it 
came on to blow seriously from that quar- 
ter, the ship might be a week in getting 
up the river, her news being certain to 
precede her. We hurried off accordingly, 
taking nothing with us but a change of 
linen, and a few necessary papers. 

We got the first real blast from the 
northwest in less than five minutes after 
we had quitted the Tigris’s side, and 
while the ship was still visible, or, rather, 
while we could yet see the lights in her 
cabin windows, as she fell off before the 
wind. Presently the lights disappeared, 
owing, no doubt, to the ship’s luffing 
again. The symptoms now looked so 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


threatening, that the pilot’s men pro- 


posed making an effort, before it was too 


late, to find the ship; but this was far _ 


easier said than done. The vessel might 
be spinning away toward Cape Henlopen, 


at the rate of six or seven knots; and, 


without the means of making any signal 
in the dark, it was impossible to overtake 
her. Ido believe that Captain Robbins 
would have acceded to the request of the 
men, had he seen any probability of suc- 
ceeding; as it was, there remained no 
alternative but to pull in, and endeavor to 
reach the land. We had the light on the 
cape as our beacon, and the boat’s head 
was kept directly for it, as the wisest 
course for us to pursue. 

Changes of wind from southeast to 
northwest are very common on the Ameri- 
can coast. They are almost always sud- 
den; sometimes so much so as to take 
ships aback; and the force of the breeze 
usually comes so early, as to have pro- 
duced the saying that a ‘‘nor’wester 
comes butt-end foremost.’? Such proved 
to be the fact in our case. In less than 
half an hour after it began to blow, the 
wind would have brought the most gallant 
Ship that floated to double-reefed topsails, 
steering by, and to reasonably short can- 
vas, running large. We may have pulled 
a mile in this half hour, though it was by 
means of a quick stroke and great labor. 
The Cape May. men were vigorous and 
experienced, and they did wonders; nor 
were Rupert and I idle; but, as soon as 
the sea got up, it was as much as all four 
of us could do to keep steerage-way on the 
boat. There were ten minutes, during 
which I really think the boat was kept 
head to sez by means of the wash of the 
waves that drove past, as we barely held 
her stationary. 

Of course it was out of the question to 
continue exertions that-were as useless as 
they were exhausting. We tried the ex- 
pedient, however, of edging to the north- 
ward, with the hope of getting more under 
the lee of the land, and, consequently, into 
smoother water; but it did no good. The 
nearest we ever got to the light must 
have considerably exceeded a league. At 
length Rupert, totally exhausted, dropped 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 283 


his oar, and fell panting on the thwart. 


It seemed to me that the two Cape 


He was directed to steer, Captain Robbins | May men had a sort of desperate reluc- 


taking his place. I can only liken our sit- 
uation at that fearful moment to the dan- 
ger of a man who is clinging to a cliff, its 
summit and safety almost in reach of his 
hand, with the consciousness that his 
powers are fast failing him, and that he 
must shortly go down. It is true, death 
was not so certain. by our abandoning the 
effort to reach the land, but the hope of 
being saved was faint indeed. Behind us 
lay the vast and angry Atlantic, without 
an inch of visible land between us and the 
Rock of Lisbon. We were totally without 
food of any sort, though, luckily, there 
was a small breaker of fresh water in the 
boat. The Cape May men had brought 
off their suppers with them, but they had 
made the meal; whereas the rest of us 
had left the Tigris fasting, intending to 
make comfortable suppers at the light. 
At length Captain Robbins consulted 


’ the boatmen, and asked them what they 


thought of our situation. I sat between 
these men, who had been remarkably si- 
lent the whole time, pulling like giants. 


Both were young, though, as I afterward 
learned, both were married ; each having 
a wife at that anxious moment waiting 
on the beach of the cape for the return of 
the boat. As Captain Robbins put the 
question, I turned my head, and saw that 
the man behind me, the oldest of the two, 
was in tears. I cannot describe the shock 
I experienced at this sight. Here was a 
man accustomed to hardships and dangers, 
who was making the stoutest and most 
manly efforts to save himself and all with 
him at the very moment, so strongly im- 
pressed with the danger of our situation 
that his feelings broke forth in a way it is 
always startling to witness, when the 
grief of man is thus exhibited in tears. 
The imagination of this husband was 
doubtless picturing to his mind the an- 
guish of his wife at that moment, and, 
perhaps, the long days of sorrow that 
were to succeed. I have no idea he 
thought of himself, apart from his wife ; 
for a finer, more manly, resolute fellow 
never existed, as he subsequently proved 


to the fullest extent. 


tance to give up the hope of reaching the 
land. We were a strong boat’s crew, 
and we had a capital, though a light 
boat; yet all would not do. About mid- 
night, after pulling desperately for three 
hours, my strength was quite gone, and 1 
had to give up the oar. Captain Robbins 
confessed himself in a very little better 
state, and, it being impossible for the 
boatmen to do more than to keep the 
boat stationary, and that only for a little 
time longer, there remained no expedient 
but to keep off before the wind, in the 
hope of still falling in with the ship. We 
knew that the Tigris was on the star- 
board tack when we left her, and, as she 
would certainly endeavor to keep as close 
in with the land as possible, there was a 
remaining chance that she had wore ship 
to keep off Henlopen, and might be head- 
ing up about north-northeast, and laying 
athwart the mouth of the bay. This left 
us just a chance—a ray of hope ; and it 
had now become absolutely necessary to 
endeavor to profit by it. 

The two Cape May men pulled the boat 
round, and kept her just ahead of the 
seas, as far as it was in their power; very 
light touches of the oars sufficing for this 
where it could be done at all. Occasionally, 
however, one of those chasing waves would 
come after us at a racer’s speed, invariably 
breaking at such instants, and frequently 
half filling the boat. This gave us new 
employment, Rupert and myself being 
kept quite half the time bailing. No occu- 
pation, notwithstanding the danger, could 
prevent me from looking about the caldron 
of angry waters, in quest of the ship. 
Fifty times did I fancy L saw her, and as 
often did the delusive idea end in disap- 
pointment. ‘The waste of dark waters, 
relieved by the gleaming of the combing 
seas, alone met the senses. The wind 
plew directly down the estuary, and, in 
crossing its mouth, we found too much 
swell to receive it on our beam, and were 
soon compelled, most reluctantly though 
it was, to keep dead away to prevent 
swamping. This painful state of expec- 
tation may have lasted half an hour, the 


284 WORKS 


boat sometimes seeming ready to fly out 
of the water, as it drifted before the gale, 
when Rupert unexpectedly called out that 
he saw the ship, 

There she was, sure enough, with her 
head to the northward and eastward, 
struggling along through the raging 
waters, under her fore and main-topsails, 
close-reefed, and reefed courses, evidently 
clinging to the land as close as she could, 
both to hold her own and to make good 
weather. It was barely light enough to 
ascertain these facts, though the ship was 
not a cable’s length from us when first 
discovered. Unfortunately, she was dead 
to leeward of us, and was drawing ahead 
so fast as to leave the probability she 
would forereach upon us, unless we took 
to all our oars. This was done as soon as 
possible, and away we went, at a rapid 
rate, aiming to shoot directly beneath the 
Tigris’s lee-quarter, so as to round-to un- 
der shelter of her hull, there to receive a 
rope. 

We pulled like giants. Three several 
times the water slapped into us, rendering 
the boat more and more heavy; but Cap- 
tain Robbins told us to pull on, every mo- 
ment being precious. As I did not look 
round—could not well, indeed—I saw no 
more of the ship until I got a sudden glimpse 
of her dark hull, within a hundred feet of 
us, Surging ahead in the manner in which 
vessels at sea seem to take sudden starts 
that carry them forward at twice their 
former apparent speed. Captain Robbins 
had begun to hail, the instant he thought 
himself near enough, or at the distance of 
a hundred yards, but what was the human 
voice amid the music of the winds strik- 
ing the various cords, and I may add 
chords, in the maze of a square-rigged 
vessel’s hamper, accompanied by the base 
of the roaring ocean! Heavens! what 
a feeling of despair was that, when the 
novel thought suggested itself almost 
simultaneously to our minds, that we 
should not make ourselves heard! I say 
Simultaneously, for at the same instant 
the whole five of us set up a common, 
desperate shout to alarm those who were 
so hear us, and who might easily save us 
from the most dreadful of all deaths— 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


starvation at sea. I presume the fearful 
manner in which we struggled at the oars 
diminished the effect of our voices, while 
the effort to raise a noise lessened our 
power with the oars. We were already 
to leeward of the ship, though nearly in 
her wake, and our only chance now was 
to overtake her. The captain called out 
to us to pull for life or death, and pull we 
did. So frantic were our efforts, that I 
really think we should have succeeded, 
had not the sea come on board us, and 
filled us to the thwarts. There remained 


no alternative but to keep dead away, and — 


to bail for our lives. 

I confess I felt scalding tears gush down 
my cheeks, as I gazed at the dark mass 
of the ship just before it was swallowed up 
in the gloom. This soon occurred, and 
then, I make no doubt, every man in 
the boat considered himself as hopelessly 
lost. We continued to bail, notwith- 
standing; and, using hats, gourds, pots 


and pails, soon cleared the boat, though ° 


it was done with no other seeming object 
than to avert immediate death. I heard 
one of the Cape May men pray. The 
name of his wife mingled with his peti- 
tions to God. As for poor Captain Rob- 
bins, who had so recently been in another 
scene of equal danger in a boat, he re- 
mained silent, seemingly submissive to 
the decrees of Providence. 

In this state we must have drifted a 
league dead before the wind, the Cape 
May men keeping their eyes on the light, 
which was just sinking behind the hori- 
zon, while the rest of us were gazing sea- 
ward in ominous expectation of what 
awaited us in that direction, when the 
hail of ‘‘boat ahoy!’’ sounded like the 
last trumpet in our ears. A schooner 
was passing our track, keeping a little 
off, and got so near as to allow us to be 
seen, though, owing to a remark about 
the light which drew all eyes to wind- 
ward, not a soul of us saw her. It was 
too late to avert the blow, for the hail 
had hardly reached us, when the schoon- 
er’s cut-water came down upon our little 
craft, and buried it in the sea asif it had 
been lead. At such moments men do not 
think, but act. I caught at a bobstay, 


7 


| 


and missed it. 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


As I went down into the 
water, my hand fell upon some object: to 
which I clung, and, the schooner rising at 
the next instant, I was grasped by the 
hair by one of the vessel’s men. I had 
hold of one of the Cape May men’s legs. 
Released from my weight, this man was 
soon in the vessel’s head, and he helped 
to save me. When we got in-board, and 
mustered our party, it was found that all 
had been saved but Captain Robbins. 
The schooner wore round, and actually 
passed over the wreck of the boat a 
second time ; but our old commander was 
never heard of more ! 


CHAPTER VII. 


**Oh! forget not the hour, when through forest and 

vale : 

We returned with our chief to his dear native 
halls! 

Through the woody Sierra there sigh’d not a gale, 

And the moonbeam was bright on his battlement 
walls; 

And nature lay sleeping in calmness and light, 

Round the house of the truants, that rose On our 
sight.’’>—Mrs. HEMANS. 


WE had fallen on board an eastern 
coaster called the Martha Wallis, bound 
from James River to Boston, intending to 
cross the shoals. Her watch had seen us, 
because the coasters generally keep better 
lookouts than Indiamen; the latter, ac- 
customed to good offings, having a trick 
of letting their people go to sleep in the 
night-watches. I made a calculation of 
the turns on board the Tigris, and knew 
it was Mr. Marble’s watch when we passed 
the ship; and I make no question he was, 
at that very moment, nodding on the hen- 
coops—a sort of trick he had. I cannot 
even now understand, however, why the 
man at the wheel did not hear the outcry 
we made. To me it appeared loud enough 
to reach the land. 

Sailors ordinarily receive wrecked mari- 
ners kindly. Our treatment on board the 
Martha Wallis was all I could have de- 
sired, and the captain promised to put us 
on board the first coaster she should fall 
in with, bound to New York. He was 


as good as his word, though not until 


more than a week had elapsed. It fell 


‘been before me. 


285 


calm as soon as the northwester blew its 
pipe out, and we did not get into the Vine- 
yard Sound for nine days. Here we met 
a craft the skipper knew, and, being a 
regular Boston and New York coaster, 
we were put on board her, with a recom- 
mendation to good treatmet. The people 
of the Lovely Lass received us just as we 
had been received on board the Martha 
Wallis ; all hands of us living aft and 
eating codfish, good beef and pork, with 
duff (dough) and molasses, almost ad 
libitum. From this last vessel we learned 
all the latest news of the French war, and 
how things were going on in the country. 
The fourth day after we were put on board 
this craft; Rupert and I landed near Peck 
Slip, New York, with nothing on earth in 
our possession, but just in what we stood. 
This, however, gave us but little concern 
—I[ had abundance at home, and Rupert 
was certain of being free from want, both 
through me and through his father. 

I had never parted with the gold given 
me by Lucy, however. When we got into 
the boat to land at the cape, I had put on 
the belt in which I kept this little treasure 
and it was still round my body. I had 
kept it as a sort of memorial of the dear 
girl who had given it to me; but I now 
saw the means of making it useful, with- 
out disposing of it altogether. J knew 
that the wisest course, in all difficulties, 
was to go at once to headquarters. I 
asked the address of the firm that owned, 
or rather had owned the John, and pro- 
ceeded to the counting-house forthwith. 
I told my story, but found that Kite had 
It seems that the Tigris 
got a fair wind, three days after the blow, 
that carried her up to the very wharves 
of Philadelphia, when most of the John’s 
people had come on to New York without 
delay. By communications with the shore 
at the cape, the pilot had learned that his 
boat had never returned, and our loss 
was supposed to have inevitably occurred. 
The accounts of all this were in the papers, 
and I began to fear that the distressing 
tidings might have reached Clawbonny. 
Indeed, there were little obituary notices 
of Rupert and myself in the journals, in- 
serted by some hand piously employed, I 


& 


286 


should think, by Mr. Kite. We were ten- 
derly treated, considering our escapade ; 
and my fortune and prospects were dwelt 
on with some touches of eloquence that 
might have been spared. 

In that day, however, a newspaper was 
a very different thing from what it has 
since become. Then journals were created 
merely to meet the demand, and news was 
given as it actually occurred ; whereas, 
now, the competition has produced a 
change that any one can appreciate, when 
itis remembered to what a competition in 
news must infallibly lead. In that day 
our own journals had not taken to imitat- 
ing the worst features of the English 
newspapers—talents and education are 
not yet cheap enough in America to en- 
able them to imitate the best—and the 
citizen was supposed to-have some rights, 
as put in opposition to the press. The 
public sense of right had not become 
blinded by familiarity with abuses, and 
the miserable and craven apology was 
never heard for not enforcing the laws, 
that nobody cares for what the newspa- 
pers say. Owing to these causes, I es- 
caped a thousand lies about myself, my 
history, my disposition, character and 
acts. Still, I was in print; and I confess 
it half frightened me to see my death an- 
nounced in such obvious letters, although 
I had physical evidence of being alive and 
well ! 

The owners questioned me closely about 
the manner in which the John -was lost, 
and expressed themselves satisfied with 
my answers. I then produced my half- 
joes, and asked to borrow something less 
than their amount on their security. To 
the latter part of the proposition, how- 
ever, these gentlemen would not listen, 
forcing a check for a hundred dollars on 
me, desiring that the money might be 
paid at my own convenience. Knowing 
I had Clawbonny and a very comfortable 
income under my lee, I made no scruples 
about accepting the sum, and took my 
leave. 

Rupert and I had now the means of 
equipping ourselves neatly, though always 
in sailor guise. After this was done we 
proceeded to the Albany basin, in order to 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


ascertain whether the Wallingford were 
down or not. At the basin we learned 
that the sloop had gone out that very 
afternoon, having on board a black with 
his young master’s effects; a lad who 
was said to have been out to Canton with 
young Mr. Wallingford, and who was now 
on his way home to report all the sad 
occurrences to the familyin Ulster. This, 
then, was Neb, who had got thus far back 
in charge of our chests, and was about to 
return to slavery. 

We had been in hopes that we might 


possibly reach Clawbonny before the tid- — 


ings of our loss. This intelligence was 


likely to defeat the expectation; but, © 


luckily, one of the fastest sloops on the 
river, a Hudson packet, was on the point 
of sailing, and, though the wind held well 
to the northward, her master thought: he 
should be able to turn up with the tides as 
high as our creek, in the course of the 
next eight-and-forty hours. This was 
quite as much as the Wallingford could 
do, I felt well persuaded ; and, making a 
bargain to be landed on the western shore, 
Rupert and I put our thing's on board this 
packet, and were under way in half an 
hour’s time. / 

So strong was my own anxiety, I could 
not keep off the deck until we had an- 
chored on account of the flood ; and much 
did I envy Rupert, who had coolly turned 
in aS soon as it was dark, and went to 
sleep. When the anchor was down, I en- 
deavored to imitate his example. On 
turning out next morning, I found the 
vessel in Newburg Bay, with a fair wind. 
About twelve o’clock I could see the 
mouth of the creek, and the Wallingford 
fairly entering it, her sails disappearing 
behind the trees just as I caught sight of 
them. As no other craft of her size ever 
went up to that landing, I could not be 
mistaken in the vessel. 

By getting ashore half a mile above the 
creek, there was a farm-road that would 
lead to the house by a cut so short as 
nearly to bring us there as soon as Neb 
could possibly arrive with his dire, but 
false intelligence. The place was pointed 


out to the captain, who had extracted our 


secret from us, and who, good-naturedly, 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


consented to do all we asked of him. Ido 
think he would have gone into the creek 
itself, had it been required. But we were 
landed with our bag of clothes—one an- 
swered very well for both—at the place I 
have mentioned, and, taking turn about 
to shoulder the wardrobe, away we went, 
as fast as legs could carry us. Even 
Rupert seemed to feel on this occasion, 
and I do think he had a good deal of con- 
trition, as he must have recollected the 
pain he had occasioned his excellent father 
and dear, good sister. 

Clawbonny never looked more beautiful 
than when I first cast eyes on it that af- 
ternoon. There lay the house in the secure 
retirement of its smiling vale, the orch- 
ards just beginning to lose their blossoms , 
the broad, rich meadows, with the grass 
waving in the south wind, resembling vel- 
vet; the fields of corn of all sorts; and 
the cattle, as they stood ruminating or 
enjoying their existence in motionless self- 
indulgence beneath the shade of trees, 
seemed to speak of abundance and con- 
siderate treatment. Everything denoted 
peace, plenty and happiness. Yet this 
place, with all its blessings and security, 
had I willfully deserted to encounter 
pirates in the Straits of Sunda, ship- 
wreck on the shores of Madagascar, 
jeopardy in an open boat off the Isle of 
France, and a miraculous preservation 
from a horrible death on my own coast ! 

At no great distance from the house was 
a dense grove, in which Rupert and I had, 
with our own hands, constructed a rude 
summer-house, fit to be enjoyed on just 
such an afternoon as this on which we had 
returned. When distant from it only 
two hundred yards, we saw the girls enter 
the woods, evidently taking the direction 
of the seat. At the same moment I caught 
a glimpse of Neb moving up the road from 
the landing at a snail’s pace, as if the 
poor fellow dreaded to encounter the task 
before him. After a moment’s consulta- 
tion, we determined to proceed at once to 
the grove, and thus anticipate the account 
of Neb, who must pass so near the sum- 
mer-house as to be seen and recognized. 
We met with more obstacles than we had 
foreseen or remembered, and when we got 


287 


to a thicket close in the rear of the bench, 
we found that the black was already in 
the presence of his two ‘‘ young mis- 
tresses.’ 

The appearance of the three, when I first 
caught a near view of them, was such as 
almost to terrify me. Hven Neb, whose 
face was usually as shining as a black 
bottle, was almost of the color of ashes. 
The poor fellow could not speak, and, 
though Lucy was actually shaking him to 
extract an explanation, the only answer 
she could get was tears. These flowed 
from Neb’s eyes in streams, and, at length, 
the fellow threw himself on the ground, 
and fairly began to groan. 

“Can this be shame at having run 
away?’ exclaimed Lucy, “or does it 
foretell evil to the boys ? ”’ 

‘‘He knows nothing of them, not hay- 
ing been with them—yet, I am terrified.’’ 

‘Not on my account, dearest sister,’’ I 
cried aloud; “‘here are Rupert and I, 
God be praised, both in good health and 
safe.’’ 

I took care to remain hid, as I uttered 
this, not to alarm more than one sense at 
a time; but both the girls shrieked, and 
held out their arms. Rupert and I hesi- 
tated no longer, but sprung forward. I 
know not how it happened, though I found, 
on recovering my self-possession, that I 
was folding Lucy to my heart, while 
Rupert was doing the same to Grace. 
This little mistake, however, was soon rec- 
tified, each man embracing his own sister, 
as in duty bound, and as was most de- 
corous. The girls shed torrents of tears, 
and assured us again and again, that this 
was the only really happy moment they 
had known since the parting on the wharf, 
nearly a twelvemonth before. Then fol- 
lowed looks at each other, exclamations of 
surprise and pleasure at the changes that 
had taken place in the appearance of all 
parties, and kisses and tears again in- 
abundance. 

As for Neb, the poor fellow was seen in 
the road, whither he had fled at the sound 
of my voice, looking at us like one in awe 
and doubt. Being satisfied in the end of 
our identity, as well as of our being in the 
flesh, the negro again threw himself on 


a] 


288 


the ground, rolling over and over, and 
fairly yelling with delight. After going 
through this process of negro excitement, 
he leaped up on his feet, and started for 
the house, shouting at the top of his voice, 
as if certain the ‘good intelligence he 
brought would secure his own pardon— 
** Master Miles come home !—Master Miles 
come home ! ”’ 

In a few minutes quiet was sufficiently 
restored among us four, who remained at 
the seat, to ask questions, and receive 
intelligible answers. Glad was I to as- 
certain that the girls had been spared 
the news of our loss. As for Mr. Har- 
dinge, he was well, and busied, as usual, 
in discharging the duties of his holy office. 
He had told Grace and Lucy the name of 
the vessel in which we had shipped, but 


said nothing of the painful glimpse he had: 


obtained of us, just as we lifted our anchor 
to quit the port. Grace, ina solemn man- 
ner, then demanded an outline of our ad- 
ventures. As Rupert was the spokesman 
on this occasion, the question having been 
ina manner put to him as the oldest, I 
had an opportunity of watching the sweet 
countenances of the two painfully interest- 
ed listeners. Rupert affected modesty in 
his narration, if he did not feel it, though 
I remarked that he dwelt a little particu- 
larly on the shot which had lodged so near 
him, in the head of the Tigris’s foremast. 
He spoke of the whistling it’ made as it 
approached, and the vielence of the blow 
when it struck. He had the impudence, 
too, to speak of my good luck in being on 
the other side of the top, when the shot 
passed through my station ; whereas I do 
believe that the shot passed nearer to me 
than it did to himself. It barely missed 
me, and by all I could learn, Rupert was 
leaning over by the topmast rigging 
when it lodged. The fellow told his story 
in his own way, however, and with so 
much unction that I observed it made 
Grace look pale. The effect on Lucy was 
different. This excellent creature per- 
ceived my uneasiness, I half suspected, 
for she laughed, and, interrupting her 
brother, told him, ‘‘ There—that’s enough 
about the cannon-ball; now let us hear of 
something else.’’ Rupert colored, for he 


a 
J 
. 
f 


WORKS OF FENIMORE OOOPER. 


had frequently had such frank hints from 
his sister, in the course of his childhood ; 
but he had too much address to betray 
the vexation I knew he felt. 

To own the truth, my attachment for 
Rupert had materially lessened with the 
falling off of my respect. He had mani- 
fested so much selfishness during the voy- 
age—had shirked so much duty, most of 
which had fallen on poor Neb—and had 
been so little of the man in practice, whom 
he used so well to describe with his tongue 
—that I could no longer shut my eyes to 
some of his deficiencies of character. I 
still liked him; but it was from habit, 
and perhaps because he was my guar- 
dian’s son, and Lucy’s brother. Then I 
could not conceal from myself that Rupert 
was not, ina rigid sense, a lad of truth. 
He colored, exaggerated, glossed over 
and embellished, if he did not absolutely 
invent. Iwas not old enough then to un- 
derstand that most of the statements that 
float about the world are nothing but 
truths distorted, and that nothing is more 
rare than unadulterated fact ; that truths 
and lies travel in company, as described 
by Pope in his ‘‘Temple of Fame,’’ until 


‘This or that unmixed, no mortal e’er shall find.” 


In this very narration of our voyage, 
Rupert had left false impressions on the 
minds of his listeners in fifty things. He 
had made far more of our little skirmishes 
than the truth would warrant, and he 
had neglected to do justice to Neb in 
his account of each of the affairs. Then 
he commended Captain Robbins’s conduct 
in connection with the loss of the John on 
points that could not be sustained, and 
censured him for measures that deserved 
praise. I knew Rupert was no seaaman— 
was pretty well satisfied, by this time, he 
never would make one—but I could not 
explain all his obliquities by referring 
them to ignorance. The manner, more- 
over, in which he represented himself as 
the principal actor, on all occasions, de- © 
noted so much address, that, while I felt 
the falsity of the impressions he left, I 
did not exactly see the means necessary 
to counteract them. So ingenious, indeed, 
was his manner of stringing facts and 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


inferences together, or what seemed to be 
facts and inferences, that I more than 
once caught myself actually believing 
that which, in sober reality, 1 knew to be 
false. 
eighteen, to feel any apprehensions on the 
subject of Grace; and was too much ac- 
customed to both Rupert and his sister to 
regard either with any feelings very wide- 
ly different from those which I entertained 
for Grace herself. 

As soon as the history of our adven- 
tures and exploits was concluded, we all 
had leisure to observe and comment on 
the alterations that time had made in 
our several persons. Rupert, being the 
oldest, was the least changed in this par- 
ticular. He had got his growth early, 
and was only a little spread. He had cul- 
tivated a pair of whiskers at sea, which 
rendered his face a little more manly—an 
improvement, by the way—but, the effects 
of exposure and of the sun excepted, there 
was no very material change in his ex- 
terior. Perhaps, on the whole, he was im- 
proved in appearance. I think both the 
girls fancied this, though Grace did not 
say it, and Lucy only half admitted it, 
and that with many reservations. As for 
myself, 1 was also full grown, standing 
exactly six feet in my stockings, which 
was pretty well for eighteen. But I had 
also spread; a fact that is not common 
for lads at that age. Grace said I had 
lost all delicacy of appearance; and as for 
Lucy, though she laughed and blushed, 
she protested I began to look like a great 
bear. To confess the truth, I was well 
satisfied with my own appearance, did not 
envy Rupert a jot, and knew I could toss 
him over my shoulder whenever I chose. 
I stood the strictures on my appearance, 
therefore, very well; and, though no one 
was so much dertded and laughed at as 
myself, in that critical discussion, no one 
cared less for it.. Just as I was permitted 
to escape, Lucy said, in an undertone— 

*“You should have stayed at home, 
Miles, and then the changes would have 
come so gradually, no one would have 
noticed them, and you would have escaped 
being told how much you are altered, and 
that you are a bear.”’ 

IV .—10 


I was still too young, not quite 


‘ 


‘ U 
i 


289 


I looked eagerly round at the speaker, 
and eyed her intently. 
passed over the dear creature’s face, her 
eyes looked as penitent as they did soft, 
and the flush that suffused her counte- 
nance rendered this last expression almost 
bewitching. At the same instant she 
whispered, ‘‘I did not really mean that.’’ 

But it was Grace’s turn, and my atten- 
tion was drawn to my sister. A year had 
made great improvements in Grace. 
Young as she was, she had lost much of 
the girlish air in the sedateness and pro- 
priety of the young woman. Grace had 
always something more of these last than 
is common; but they had now completely 
removed every appearance of childish, I 
might almost say of girlish frivolity. In 
person her improvement was great; 
though an air of exceeding delicacy rather 
left an impression that such a being was 
more intended for another world than this. 
There was even an air of fragility and of 
pure intellectuality about my poor sister, 
that half disposed one to fancy that she 
would one day be translated to a better 
sphere in the body precisely as she stood 
before human eyes. 

Lucy bore the examination well. She 
was all woman, there being nothing about § 
her to create any miraculous expectations F 
or fanciful pictures ; but she was evidently # 
fast getting to be a very lovely woman. @& 
Honest, sincere, full of heart, overflowing 
with the feelings of her sex, gentle, yet 
Spirited, buoyant, though melting with™® 
the charities ; her changeful, but natural, 
and yet constant feelings in her, kept me {® 
incessantly in pursuit of her playful mind , 
and varying humors. Still a more high-™ 
principled being, a firmer or more Con- 
sistent friend, or a more accurate thinker { 
on all subjects that suited .her years and 
became her situation than Lucy Hardinge, 
never existed. EKven Grace was influ- 
enced by her judgment, though I did not 
then know how much my sister’s mind 
was guided by her simple and less pre- 
tending friend’s capacity to foresee things, — 
and to reason on their consequences. 

We were more than.an hour uninter- 
ruptedly together before we thought of 
repairing to the house. Lucy then re- 


A look of regret -— 


790 


minded Rupert that he had not yet seen. 


his father, whom she had just before ob- 
served alighting from his horse at the 
door of his own study. 
apprised of the return of the runaways, if 
not prodigals, was evident, she thought, 
by his manner; and it was disrespect- 
ful to delay seeking his forgiveness and 
blessing. Mr. Hardinge received us both 
without surprise, and totally without any 
show of resentment. It was about the 
time he expected our return, and no sur- 
prise was felt at finding this expectation 
realized, as a matter of course, while re- 
sentment was almost a stranger to his 
nature. We all shed tears, the girls sob- 
bing aloud; and we were both solemnly 
blessed. Noram I ashamed to say I knelt 
to receive that blessing, in an age when 
the cant of a pretending irreligion—there 
is as much cant in self-sufficiency as in 
hypocrisy, and they very often go to- 
gether—is disposed to turn into ridicule 
the humbling of the person while asking 
for the blessing of the Almighty through 
the ministers of his altars; for kneel I 
did, and weep I did, and, I trust, the one 
in hujniiity and the other in contrition. 
When we had all become a little calm, 
and a substantial meal was placed before 
‘us adventurers, Mr. Hardinge demanded 
an account of all that had passed. He 
applied to me to give it, and 1 was com- 
pelled to discharge the office of an histo- 
rian, somewhat against my inclination. 
There was no remedy, however, and I 
told the story in my own simple manner, 
and certainly in a way to leave very differ- 
ent impressions from many of those made 
by the narrative of Rupert. I thought 
once or twice, as I proceeded, Lucy 
looked sorrowful, and Grace looked sur- 
prised. I do not think I colored in the 
least as regarded myself, and I know I did 
Neb no more than justice. My tale was 
soon told, for I felt the whole time as if I 
were contradicting Rupert, who, by the 
way, appeared perfectly unconcerned— 
perfectly unconscious, indeed—on the sub- 
ject of the discrepancies in the two 
accounts. Ihave since met with men who 
did not know the truth when it was even 
placed very fairly before their eyes. 


That he had been 


re 7 os Stat 
" Pe ; 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


Mr. Hardinge expressed his heartfelt 
happiness at having us back again, and | 
soon after he ventured to ask if we were 
satisfied with what we had seen of the 


world. This was a home question, but I 


thought it best to meet it manfully. So 
far from being satisfied, 1 told him it was 
my ardent desire to get on board one of 
the letters-of-marque, of which so many 
were then fitting out in the country, and 
to make.a voyage to Kurope. Rupert, 
however, confessed he had mistaken his 
vocation, and that he thought he could do 
no better than to enter a lawyer’s office. 
I was thunderstruck at this quiet admis- 
sion of my friend of his incapacity to make 
a sailor, for it was the first intimation I 
heard of his intention. I had remarked a 
certain want of energy in various situa- 
tions that required action in Rupert, but 
no want of courage; and I had ascribed 
some portion of his lassitude to the change 
of condition, and, possibly, of food ; for, 
after all, that godlike creature, man, is 
nothing but an animal, and is just as 
much influenced by his stomach and di- 
gestion as a sheep or a horse. 

Mr. Hardinge received his son’s intima- 
tion of a preference of intellectual labors 
to a more physical state of existence with 
a gratification my own wishes did not 
afford him. Still, he made no particular 
remark to either at the time, permitting 
us both to enjoy our return to Clawbonny — 
without any of the drawbacks of advice or 
lectures. Theevening passed delightfully, 
the girls beginning to laugh heartily at 
our own ludicrous accounts of the mode 
of living on board ship, and of our various 
scenes in China, the Isle of Bourbon, and 
elsewhere. Rupert had a great deal of 
humor, and a very dry way of exhibiting 
it; in short, he was almost a genius in the 
mere superficialities of life; and even 
Grace rewarded his efforts to entertain 
us, with laughter to tears.*. Neb was 
introduced after supper, and the fellow 
was censured and commended; censured 
for having abandoned the household gods, 
and commended for not having deserted 
their master. His droll descriptions of 
the Chinese, their dress, pigtails, shoes, 
and broken English, diverted even Mr. 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


Hardinge, who, I believe, felt as much 
like a boy on this occasion, as any of the 
party. A happier evening than that which 
followed in the little fea-parlor, as my dear 
mother used to call it, was never passed 
in the century that the roof had covered 
the old walls of Clawbonny. 

Next day I had a private conversation 
with my guardian, who commenced the 
discourse by rendering a sort of account 
of the proceeds of my property during the 
past year. I listened respectfully, and 
with some interest; for I saw the first 
gave Mr. Hardinge great satisfact <n, 
and I confezs the last afforded some li le 
pleasure to nyself. I found that thi ¢s 
had gone « 1 very prosperously. Re ly 
money was accumulating, and I saw t..:t, 
by the time I came of age, sufficient cash 
would be on hand to give me a ship of 
my own, should I choose to purchase one. 
From that moment I was secretly deter- 
mined to qualify myseif to command her 
in the intervening time. 
of the future, beyond an expression of the 
hope, by my guardian, that i would take 
time to refiect before I came to a final 
decision on the subject of my profession. 
To this I said nothing beyond making a 
respectful inclination of the head. 

For the next month, Clawbonny was a 
scene of uninterrupted merriment and de- 
light. We had few families to visit in our 
immediate neighborhood, it is true; and 
Mr. Hardinge proposed an excursion to 
the Springs—the country was then too 
new, and the roads too bad, to think of 
Niagara—but to this I would not listen. I 
cared not for the Springs—knew little of, 
and cared less for fashion—and loved 
Clawbonny to its stocks and stones. We 
remained at home, then, living principally 
for each other. Rupert read a good deal 
to the girls under the direction of his 
father ; while I passed no small portion 
of my time in athletic exercises. The 
Grace and Lucy: made one or two toler- 
ably long cruises in the river, and at 
length I conceived the idea of taking the 
party down to town in the Wallingford. 
Neither of the girls had ever seen New 
York, or much of the Hudson; nor had 
either ever seen a ship. The sloops that 


Little was said | 


291 


passed up and down the Hudson, with an 
occasional schooner, were the extent of 
their acquaintance with vessels: and I be- 
gan to feel it to be matter of reproach that 
those in whom I took so deep an interest, 
should be so ignorant. As for the girls 
themselves, they both admitted, now [I . 
was a Sailor, that their desire to see areg- 
ular, three-masted, full-rigged ship, was 
increased sevenfold. 

Mr. Hardinge heard my proposition, 
at first, as a piece of pleasantry; but 
Grace expressing a strong desire to see a 
large town, or what was thought a large 
town in this country, in 1799, and Lucy 
looking wistful, though she remained si- 
lent under an apprehension her father 
could not afford the expense of such a 
journey, which her imagination rendered 
a great deal more formidable than it 
actually proved to be, the excellent divine 
finally acquiesced. ‘The expense was dis- 
posed of in a very simple manner. The 
journey, both ways, would be made in the 
Wallingford ; and Mr, Hardinge was not 
so unnecessarily scrupulous as to refuse 
passages for himself and children in the 
sloop, which never exacted passage-money 
from any who went to or from the farm. 
Food was so cheap, too, as to be a matter 
of no consideration ; and, being entitled 
legally to receive that at Clawbonny, it 
made no great difference whether it was 
taken on board the vessel, or in the house. 
Then there was a Mrs. Bradfort in New 
York, a widow lady of easy fortune, who 
was a cousin-german of Mr. Hardinge’s— 
his father’s sister’s daughter—and with 
her he always stayed in his own annual 
visits to attend the convention of the 
Church—I beg pardon, of the Protestant 
Episcopal Church, as it is now de rigueur 
to say; I wonder some ultra does not 
introduce the manifest improvement into 
the Apostles’ Creed of saying, ‘‘I believe 
in the Holy Protestant Episcopal Catholic 
Church, etc.’’—but, the excellent divine, 
in his annual attendance on the conven- 
tion, was accustomed to stay with his 
kinswoman, who often pressed him to 
bring both Lucy and Grace to see her; 
her house in WallStreet being abundantly 
large enough to accommodate a much 


292 WORKS 
more numerous party. ‘“‘ Yes,’’ said Mr. 
Hardinge, ‘‘that shall be the arrange- 
ment. The girls and I will stay with Mrs. 
Bradfort, and the young men can live ata 
tavern. I dare say this new City Hotel, 
which seems to be large enough to contain 
a regiment, will hold even them. I will 
write this very evening to my cousin, so 
as not to take her by surprise.’’ 

In less than a week after this determi- 
nation an answer was received from Mrs. 
Bradfort; and, the very next day, the 
whole party, Neb included, embarked in 
the Wallingford. Very different was 
this passage down the Hudson from that 
which had preceded it. Then I had the 
sense of error about me, while my heart 
yearned toward the two dear girls we 
had left on the wharf, but now every- 
thing was aboveboard, sincere, and by 
permission. It is scarcely necessary to 
say that Grace and Lucy were enchanted 
with everything they saw. The High- 
lands, in particular, threw them both into 
ecstasies, though I have since seen so 
much of the world as to understand, with 
nearly all experienced tourists, that this 
is relatively the worst part of the scenery 
of this beautiful river. When I say rela- 
tively, [mean as comparing the bolder 
parts of our stream with those of others— 
Speaking of them as high lands—many 
other portions of this good globe having a 
much superior grandeur, while very few 
have so much lovely river scenery com- 
pressed into so small a space as is to be 
found in the other parts of the Hudson. 

In due time we arrived in New York, 
and | had the supreme happiness of point- 
ing out to the girls the State’s Prison, the 
Bear Market, and the steeples of St. Paul 
and Trinity—old Trinity, as it was so 
lately the fashion to style a church that 
was built only a few years before, and 
which, in my youth, was considered as 
magnificent as it was venerable. That 
building has already disappeared; and 
another edifice, which is now termed 
splendid, vast, and I know not what, has 
been reared in its place. By the time this 
is gone, and one or two generations of 
buildings have succeeded, each approach- 
ing nearer to the high standard of church 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


architecture in the old world, the Manhat- 
tanese will get to understand something 
of the use of the degrees of comparison on 
such subjects. When that day shall ar- 
rive, they will cease to be provincial, and 
not till then. 

What a different thing was Wall Street, 
in 1799, from what it is to-day! Then, 
where so many Grecian temples are now 
reared to Plutus, were rows of modest 
provincial dwellings; not a tittle more 
provincial, however, than the thousand 
meretricious houses of brick and marble 


| th: have since started up in their neigh- 
boi ood, but far less pretendi~g, and in- 
sor ich the more creditable. Irs. Brad- 
for lived in one of these  espectable 
abc es, and hither Mr. Hardinge led the 


wa,, with just as much confidence as one 
would now walk into Bleecker Street, or 
the Fifth Avenue. Money-changers were 
then unknown, or, if known, were of so 
little account that they had not sufficient 
force to form a colony and a league by 
themselves. Even the banks did not 
deem it necessary to be within a stone’s 
throw of each other—I believe there were 
but two—as it might be in self-defense. 
We have seen all sorts of expedients 
adopted in this sainted street, to protect 
the money-bags, from the little temple 
that was intended to be so small as only 
to admit the dollars and those who were 
to take care of them, up to the edifice 
that might contain so many rogues as to 
render things safe on the familiar prin- 
ciple of setting a thief to catch a thief. 
All would not do. The difficulty has been 
found to be unconquerable, except in those 
cases in which the homely and almost 
worn-out expedient of employing honest 
men has been resorted to. But to return 
from the gossipings of old age to anagree- 
able widow, who was still under forty. 

Mrs. Bradfort received Mr. Hardinge 
in a way to satisfy us all that she was 
delighted to see him. She had prepared a 
room for Rupert and myself, and no apolo- 
gies or excuses would be received. We 
had to consent to accept of her hospitali- 
ties. In an hour’s time all were estab- 
lished, and I believe that all were at 
home. 


~ 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


I shall not dwell on the happiness that 
succeeded. We were all too young to go 
to parties, and. I might almost add, New 
York itself was too young to have any; 
but in the last I should have been mis- 
taken, though there were not as many 
children’s balls in 1799 perhaps, after al- 
lowing for the difference in population, as 
there are to-day. If too young to be 
company, we were not too young to see 
sights. I sometimes laugh as l remember 
what these were at that time. There 
was such a museum as would now be 
thought lightly of in a western city of 
fifteen or twenty years’ growth—a circus 
kept by a man of the name of Ricketts— 
the theater in John Street, a very modest 
Thespian edifice—and a lion, I mean liter- 
ally the beast, that was kept in a cage 
quite out of town, that his roaring might 
not disturb the people, somewhere near 
the spot where the triangle that is called 
Franklin Square now is. All these we 
saw, even to the theater; good, indulgent 
Mr. Hardinge seeing no harm in letting 
us go thither under the charge of Mrs. 
Bradfort. I shall never forget the ecs- 
tasy of that night! The novelty was 
quite as great to Rupert and myself as 
it was to the girls; for though we had 
been to China, we had never been to the 
play. 

Well was it said, ‘‘ Vanity, vanity—all 
is vanity!’’ He that lives as long as I 
have: lived, will have seen most of his 
opinions, and I think I may add, all his 
tastes, change. Nothing short of revela- 
tion has a stronger tendency to convince 
us of the temporary character of our pro- 
bationary state in this world, than to 
note for how short a period, and for what 
imperfect ends, all our hopes and success 
in life have been buoying us up, and oc- 
cupying our minds. After fifty, the de- 
lusion begins to give way; and, though 
we may continue to live, and even to be 
happy, blind indeed must be he who does 
not see the end of his road, and foresee 
some of the great results to which it is to 
lead. But of all this, our quartet thought 
little in the year 1799. 


293 
CHAPTER VIII. 


“Thou art the same eternal sea ! 
The earth hath many shapes and forms 
Of hill and valley, flower and tree; 
Fields that the fervid noontide warms, 
Or Winter’s rugged grasp deforms, 
Or bright with Autumn’s golden store; 
Thou coverest up thy face with storms, 
Or smilest serene—but still thy roar 
And dashing foam go up to vex the sea- 

beat shore.’’—LUNT. 


I HAD a free conversation with my 
guardian, shortly after we reached town, 
on the subject of my going to sea again. 
The whole country was alive with the 
armament of the new marine ; and cocked 
hats, blue coats, and white lappels, began 
to appear in the streets, with a parade’ 
that always marks the new officer and 
the new service. Now, one meets dis- 
tinguished naval men at every turn, and 
sees nothing about their persons to denote 
the profession, unless in actual employ- 
ment afloat, even the cockade being laid 
aside ; whereas in 1799 the harness was 
put on as soon as the parchment was re- 
ceived, and only laid aside to turn in. 
Ships were building or equipping in all 
parts of the country; and it is matter of 
surprise to me that I escaped the fever, and 
did not apply to be made a midshipman. 
Had I seen another captain who interested 
me as much as Captain Dale, I make no 
doubt my career would have been quite 
different ; but, as things were, I had im- 
bibed the prejudice that Southey, in his 
very interesting, but, in a_ professional 
sense, very worthless, ‘‘ Life of Nelson ”’ 
had attributed to that hero— ‘“‘aft, the 
more honor; forward, the better man.”’ 
Thus far, 1 had not got into the cabin 
windows, and, like all youngsters who 
fairly begin on the forecastle, felt proud 
of my own manhood and disdain of hazareés 
and toil. I determined, therefore, to pur- 
sue the course I had originally pointed out 
to myself and follow inthe footsteps of my 
father. 

Privateers were out of the question in a 
war with a country that had no commerce. 
Nor do I think I would have gone in a 
privateer under any circumstances. The 
business of carrying on a warfare merely 
for gain has ever struck me as discrecit- 


294 WORKS 


able; though it must be admitted the 
American system of private-armed cruis- 
ers has always been more respectable and 
better conducted than that of most other 
nations. This has been owing to the cir- 
cumstance that men of a higher class 
than is usual in Europe have embarked in 
the enterprises. To a letter-of-marque, 
however, there could be no objections ; her 
regular business is commerce; she arms 
only in self-defense, or, if she capture any- 
thing, it ismerely such enemies as crossed 
her path, and who would capture her if 
they could. I announced to Mr. Hardinge, 
therefore, my determination not to return 
to Clawbonny, but to look for a berth in 
some letter-of-marque, while then in town. 

Neb had received private instructions, 
and my sea-dunnage, as well as his own, 
was on board the Wallingford —low 
enough the wreck had reduced both to be 
—and money obtained from Mr. Hardinge 
was used to purchase more. I now began 
to look about me for a ship, determined to 
please my-eye as to the vessel, and my 
judgment as to the voyage. Neb had 
orders to follow the wharves on the same 
errand. I would sooner trust Neb than 
Rupert on such a dutv. The latter had 
no taste for ships; felt no interest in 
them, and I have often wondered why he 
took a fancy to go to sea at all. With 
Neb it was very different. He was already 
an expert seaman; could hand, reef and 
steer, knot and splice, and was as useful 
as nine menin ten on board a vessel. It 
is true, he did not know when it became 
necessary to take in the last reef—had no 
notion of stowing a cargo so as to favor 
the vessel, or help her sailing; but he 
would break out a cask sooner than most 
men I ever met with. There was _ too 
much ‘‘nigger’’ in him for headwork of 
that sort, though he was ingenious and 
ready enough in his way. A sterling 
fellow was Neb, and I got in time to love 
him very much as I can conceive one 
would love a brother. 

One day, after I had seen all the sights, 
and had begun to think seriously of find- 
ing a ship, 1 was strolling along the 
wharves on the latter errand, when I 
heard a voice 1 knew cry out, ‘‘ There, 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


Captain Williams, there’s just your chap; 
he’li make as good a third mate as can be 
found in all America.’? I had a sort of 
presentiment this applied to me, though I 
could not, on the instant, recall the speak- 
er’s name. ‘Turning to look in the direc- 
tion of the sounds, I saw the hard coun- 
tenance of Marble, alongside the weather- 
beaten face of a middle-aged ship-master, 
both of whom were examining me over 
the nettings of a very promising-looking 
armed merchantman. I bowed to Mr. 
Marble, who beckoned me to come on 
board, where I was regularly introduced 
to the master. 

This vessel was called the Crisis, a very 
capital name for a craft in a country 
where crises of one sort or another occur 
regularly as often as once in six months. 


She was a tight little ship of about four’ 


hundred tons, had hoop-hole bulwarks, 
as lL afterward learned, with nettings for 
hammocks and old junk, principally the 
latter; and showed ten nine-pounders, 
carriage-guns, in her batteries. I saw 
she was loaded, and was soon given to 
understand that her shipping articles 
were then open, and the serious question 
was of procuring a third mate. Officers 
were scarce, SO many young men were 
pressing into the navy, and Mr. Marble 
ventured to recommend me, from near a 
twelvemonth’s knowledge of my character. 
I had not anticipated a berth aft quite so 
soon, and yet [had an humble confidence 
in my own ability to discharge the duty. 
Captain Williams questioned me for fif- 
teen or twenty minutes, had a short con- 
versation with Mr. Marble alone, and 
then frankly offered me the berth. The 
voyage was to be round the world, and it 


took my fancy at the very sound. The 


ship was to take a cargo of flour to En- 
gland; there, she was to receive a small 
assorted cargo for the northwest coast, 
and some of the sandal-wood islands; 
after disposing of her toys and manufact- 
ured articles in barter, she was to sail 
for Canton, exchange her furs, wood, and 
other articles, for teas, etc., and return 
home. To engage in this voyage, | was 
offered the berth I have metioned, and 
thirty dollars a month. The wages were 


SS ae 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


of little moment to me, but the promotion 
and the voyage were of great account. 
The ship, too, carried out letters-of- 
marque and reprisal with her, and there 
were the chances of meeting some French- 
man in the European waters at least. 

I examined the vessel, the berth I was 
to occupy, made a great many shy glances 
at the captain, to ascertain his character 
by that profound expedient, analyzing his 
looks, and finally determined to ship, on 
condition Neb should be taken as an 
ordinary seaman. As soon as Marble 
heard this last proposal, he explained the 
relation in which the black stood to me, 
and earnestly advised his being received 
as a seaman. The arrangement was 
made accordingly, and I went at once to 
the notary and signed the articles. Neb 
was also found, and he was shipped too ; 
this time regularly, Mr. Hardinge at- 
tending and giving his sanction to what 
was done. The worthy divine was in ex- 
cellent spirits, for that very day he had 
made an arrangement with a friend at the 
bar to place Rupert in his office, Mrs. 
Bradfort insisting on keeping her young 
kinsman in her house, asa regular inmate. 
This left on the father no more charge 
than to furnish Rupert with clothes, and 
afew dollars of pocket money. But I 
knew Rupert too well to suppose he would, 
or could, be content with the little he 
might expect from the savings of Mr. 
Hardinge. I was not in want of money. 
My guardian had supplied me so amply, 
that not only had I paid my debt to the 
owners of the John, and fully equipped 
myseli for the voyage, but I actually pos- 
sessed dollars enough to supply all my 
probable wants during the expected ab- 
sence. Many of the officers and men of 
the Crisis left behind them orders with 
their wives and families to receive their 
wages, in part, during their absence, as 
letters from time to time apprised the 
owners that these people were on board, 
and in discharge of their several duties. 

I determined on giving Rupert the 
benefit of such an arrangement. First 
presenting him with twenty dollars from 
my own little store, I took him with me to 
the counting-house, and succeeded, though 


ee ee eee ee EE eS eS ee 


295 


not without some difficulty, in obtaining 
for my friend a credit of twenty dollars a 
month, promising faithfully to repay any 
balance that might arise against me in 
consequence of the loss of the ship, or of 
any accident to myself. This I was en- 
abled to do on the strength of my credit 
as the owner of Clawbonny; for, as is 
usual in these cases, I passed for being 
much richer than I really was, though far 
from being poor. 

I will acknowledge that, while I felt no 
reluctance at making this arrangement in 
favor of Rupert, I felt mortified he should 
accept it. There are certain acts we may 
all wish to perform, and, yet, which bring 
regrets when successfully performed. I 
was sorry that my friend, Lucy’s brother, 
Grace’s admirer—for I was quick enough 
in perceiving that Rupert began to enter- 
tain fancies of that sort—had not pride 
enough to cause him to decline receiving 
money which must be earned by the 
sweat of my brow, and this, moreover, in 
a mode of life he had not himself suffi- 
cient resolution to encounter a second 
time. But he accepted the offer, and 
there was an end of it. 

As everything was alive in 1798, the 
Crisis was ready to sail in three days 
after I joined her. We hauled into the 
North River, as became the dignity of our 
voyage, and got our crew. On the whole 
we mustered a pretty good body of men, 
ten of them being green; fellows who 
had never seen the ocean, but who were 
young, healthy, and athletic, and who 
promised to be useful before a great 
while. Including those aft, we counted 
thirty-eight souls on board. The ship 
was got ready in hopes of being able to 
sail of a Thursday, for Captain Williams 
was a thoughtful man, and was anxious 
to get the ship fairly at sea, with the first 
work done, previously to the next Sab- 
bath. Some small matters, however, 
could not be got through with in time; 
and, as for sailing of a Friday, that was 
out of the question. No one did that, in 
1798, who could help it. This gave us a 
holiday, and I got leave to pass the after- 
noon and evening ashore. 

Rupert, Grace, Lucy, and I, took a 


296 WORKS 


long walk into the country that evening ; 
that is, we went into the fields, and 
along the lanes, for some distance above 
the present site of Canal Street. Lucy 
and I walked together most of the time, 
and we both felt sad at the idea of so 
long a separation as was now before us. 
The voyage might last three years; and 
I should be legally a man, my own mas- 
ter, and Lucy a young woman of near 
nineteen, by that time. Terrible ages in 
perspective were these, and which seemed 
to us pregnant with as many changes as 
the life of a man. 

«Rupert will be admitted to the bar 
when I get back,’’ I casually remarked, 
as we talked the matter over. 

‘‘He will, indeed,’’ the dear girl ad- 
swered. ‘‘ Now you are to go, Miles, I 
almost regret my brother is not to be in 
the ship; you have known each other so 
long, love each other so much, and have 
already gone through such frightful trials 
in company.”’ 

“‘«Oh! I shall do well enough—there’ll 
be Neb; and asfor Rupert, I think he will 
be better satisfied ashore than at sea. 
Rupert is a sort of natural lawyer.’’ 

By this I merely meant he was good at 
subterfuge, and could tell his own story. 

«Yes, but Neb is not Rupert, Miles,”’ 
Lucy answered, quick as thought, and I 
fancied a little reproachfully. 

«‘ Very true—no doubt I shall miss your 
brother, and that, too, very much, at 
times; but all I meant in speaking of Neb 
was, as you know, that he and I have liked 
each other as long as I can remember.”’ 

Lucy was silent, and I felt embarrassed 
and a little at a Joss what to say next. 
But a girl approaching sixteen, and who 
is with a youth who possesses her entire 
confidence, is not apt to be long silent. 
Something she will say ; and how often is 
that something warm with natural feel- 
ing, instinct with truth, and touching from 
its confiding simplicity ! 

“You will sometimes think of us, 
Miles?’ was Lucy’s next remark, and it 
was said in a tone that induced me to 
look her full in the face, when I discovered 
that her eyes were suffused with tears. 

“Of that you may be very certain, and 


x 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


I hope to be rewarded in kind. But now 
I think of it, Lucy, Ihave a debt to pay 
you, and, at the same time, a little in- 
terest. Here are the half-joes you forced 
me to take last year, when we parted at 
Clawbonny. See, they are exactly the 
same pieces; for I would as soon have 
parted with a finger as with one of them.”’ 

“‘T had hoped they might have been 
of use to you, and had quite forgotten 
them. You have destroyed an agreeable 
illusion.”’ 

“Ts it not quite as agreeable to know 
we had no occasion for them? No, here 
they are; and, now I go with Mr. Har- 
dinge’s full approbation, you very well 
know I can be in no want of money. So 
there is your gold; and here, Lucy, is 
some interest for the use of it.”’ 

I made an effort to put something into 
the dear girl’s hand as I spoke, but all 
the strength I could properly apply was 
not equal to the purpose. So tightly did 
she keep her little fingers compressed, 
that I could not succeed without a down- 
right effort at force. . 

«¢ No—no—Miles,’’ she said hurriedly— 
almost huskily ; ‘“‘that will never do! I 
am not Rupert—you may prevail with 
him ; never with me !”’ 

«Rupert! What can Rupert have to 
do with such a thing as this locket? 
Youngsters don’t wear lockets.”’ 

Lucy’s fingers separated as easily as an 
infant’s, and I put my little offering into 
her hand without any more resistance. I 
was sorry, however, to discover that, by 
some means unknown to me, she had be- 
come acquainted with the arrangement I 
had made as respected the twenty dollars 
a month. I afterward ascertained that 
this secret had leaked out through Neb, 
who had it from one of the clerks of the 
counting-house who had visited the ship, 
and repeated it to Mrs. Bradfort’s black 
maid in one of his frequent visits to the 
house. This is a common channel of infor- 
mation, though it seldom proves as true 
as it did in this instance. 

IT could see that Lucy was delighted with 
her locket. It was a very pretty orna- 
ment, in the first place, and it had her own 
hair, that of Grace, Rupert, and my own, 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


very prettily braided together, so as to 


form a wreath, made like a rope, or a 


grummet, encircling a combination of let- 
ters that included all our initials. In this 
there was nothing that was particular, 
while there was much that was affection- 
ate. Had I not consulted Grace on the 
subject, it is possible | should have been 
less cautious, though I declare I had no 
thought of making love. All this time I 
fancied I felt for, and trusted Lucy as an- 
other sister. I was shrewd enough to de- 
tect Rupert’s manner and feeling toward 
my own sister, and I felt afraid it was, or 
soon would be, fully reciprocated ; but as 
to imagining myself in love with Lucy 
Hardinge, or any one else, the thought 
never crossed my mind, though the dear 
girl herself so often did ! 

I saw Lucy’s smile and I could not avoid 
noticing the manner in which, once or 
twice, unconsciously to herself, | do be- 
lieve, this simple-minded, sincere creature 
pressed the hand which retained the locket 
to her heart; and yet it made no very 
lively impression on my imagination at 
the time. The conversation soon changed, 
and we began to converse of other things. 
I have since fancied that Grace had left 
us alone in order that I might return the 
half-joes to Lucy, and offer the locket ; 
for, looking round and seeing the latter 
in its new owner’s hand, while Lucy was 
bestowing on it one of the hundred glances 
of grateful pleasure it received that after- 
noon, she waited until we came up, when 
she took my arm, remarking, as this was 
to be our last evening together, she must 
come in for her share of the conversation. 
Now I solemnly affirm that this was the 
nearest approach to anything like a love- 
scene that had ever passed between Lucy 
Hardinge and myself. 

I would gladly pass over the leave-tak- 
ing, and shall say but little about it. Mr. 
Hardinge called me into his room, when 
we got back to the house. He spoke 
earnestly and solemnly to me, recalling to 
my mind many of his early and more use- 
ful precepts. He then kissed me, gave 
me his blessing, and promised to remem- 
ber me in his prayers. As I left him, and 
I believe he went on his knees as soon as 


297 


my back was turned, Lucy was waiting 
for me in the passage. She was in tears, 
and paler than common, but her mind 
seemed made up to sustain a great sacri- 
fice like a woman. She puta small,-but 
exceedingly neat copy of the Bible into 
my hand, and uttered as well as emotion 
would permit—‘‘ There, Miles; thatis my 
keepsake. I do not ask you to think of 
me when you read; but think of God.” 
She then snatched a kiss, and flew into 
her room and locked the door. Grace 
was below, and she wept on my neck like 
a child, kissing me again and again, and 
calling me ‘‘her brother—her dear, her 
only brother.’’ Iwas obliged actually to 
tear myself away from Grace. Rupert 
went with me to the ship, and passed an 
hour or two on board. As we crossed the 
threshold, I heard a window open above 
my head, and, looking up, I saw Lucy, 
with streaming eyes, leaning forward to 
say, ‘‘ Write, Miles—write as often as you 
possibly can.’’ 

Man must be a stern being by nature, 
to be able to tear himself from such 
friends, in order to encounter enemies, 
hardships, dangers and toil, and all with- 
out any visible motive. Such was my 
case, however, for 1 wanted not for a 
competency, or for most of those advan- 
tages which might tempt one to abandon 
the voyage. Of such a measure, the pos- 
sibility never crossed my mind. I believed 
that it was just as necessary for me to 
remain third mate of the Crisis, and to 
stick by the ship while she would float, as 
Mr. Adams thinks it necessary for him to 
present abolition petitions to a Congress 
which will not receive them. We both of 
us, doubtless, believed ourselves the vic- 
tims of fate. We sailed at sunrise, wind 
and tide favoring. We had anchored off 
Cortlandt Street, and as the ship swept 
past the Battery I saw Rupert, who had 
only gone ashore in the pilot’s boat at 
daylight, with two females, watching our 
movements. The girls did not dare to 
wave their handkerchiefs; but what cared 
Ifor that ? I knew that their good wishes, 
kind wishes, tender wishes, went with me ; 
and this little touch of affection, which 
woman knows so well how to manifest, 


298 WORKS OF 


made me both happy and sad for the re- | 


mainder of the day. 

The Crisis was an unusually fast ship, 
faster even than the Tigris ; coppered to 
the: bends, copper-fastened, and with a 
live-oak frame. No better craft sailed 
out of the Republic. Uncle Sam had tried 
to purchase her for one of his new navy ; 
but the owners, having this voyage in 
view, refused his tempting offers. She 
was no sooner under her canvas, than all 
hands of us perceived we were in a travel- 
er; and glad enough were we to be certain 
of the fact, for we had a long road before us. 
This, too, was with the wind free, and in 
smooth water; whereas those who knew 
the vessel asserted her forte was on a 
bowline and in a sea—that is to say, she 
would sail relatively faster than most 
other craft, under the latter circum- 
stances. 

There was a strange pleasure to me, 
notwithstanding all I had suffered previ- 
ously, all the risks I had run, and all I 
had left behind me, in finding myself once 
more on the broad ocean. As for Neb, 
the fellow was fairly enraptured. So 
quickly and intelligently did he obey his 
orders, that he won a reputation before 
we crossed the bar. The smell of the 
ocean seemed to imbue him with a species 
of nautical inspiration, and even I was 
astonished with his readiness and activity. 
As for myself, I was every way at home. 
Very different was this exit from the port 
from that of the previous year. Then 
everything was novel, and not a little dis- 
gusting. Now I had little, almost noth- 
ing to learn—literally nothing, I might 
have said, were it not that every ship- 
master has certain ways of his own, that 
it behooves all his subordinates to learn as 
quickly as possible. Then I lived aft, 
where we not only had plates, and table- 
cloths, and tumblers, and knives and 
forks, but comparatively clean articles of 
the sort. I say comparatively, the two 
other degrees being usually wanting in 
northwest traders. 

The Crisis went to sea with a lively 
breeze at southwest, the wind shifting 
after she had got into the lower bay. 
There were a dozen sail of us altogether, 


PLENIMORE 


COOPER. 


and in our little fleet were two of Uncle 
Sam’s men, who felt disposed to try their 
hands with us. We crossed the bar, all 
three of us, within a cable’s length of 
each other, and made sail in company, 
with the wind a trifle abaft the beam. 
Just as Navesink disappeared, our two 
men-of-war, merchantmen altered, hauled 
up on bowlines, and jogged off toward the 
West Indies, being at the time about a 
league astern of us. This success put us 
allin high good humor, and had such an 
effect on Marble in particular, that he be- 
gan to give it as his opinion that our only 
superiority over them would not be found 
confined to sailing on an experiment. It 
is very convenient to think favorably of 
one’s self, and it is certainly comfortable 
to entertain the same notion as respects 
one’s ship., 

Iconfess to alittle awkwardness at first, 
in acting as an officer. I was young and 
commanded men old enough to be my 
father—regular sea-dogs, who were as 
critical in ail that related to the niceties 
of the calling, as the journalist who is un- 
able to appreciate the higher qualities of 
a book is hypercritical on its minor faults. 
But a few days gave me confidence, and I 
soon found I was obeyed as readily as the 
first mate. 

A squall struck the ship in my watch 
about a fortnight out, and I succeeded in 
getting in sail and saving everything, 
canvas and spars, in a way that did me 
infinite service aft. Captain Williams 
spoke to me on the subject, commending 
the orders I had given, and the coolness 
with which they had been issued ; for, as 
I afterward understood, he remained some 
time in the companionway, keeping the 
other two mates back, though all hands 
had been called, in order to see how I 
could get along by myself in such a strait. 
On this occasion, I never saw a human 
being exert himself like Neb. He felt that 
my honor was concerned. I do really 
think the fellow did two men’s duty the 
whole time the squall lasted. Until this 
little incident occurred, Captain Williams 
was in the habit of coming on deck to ex- 
amine the heavens, and see how things 
were getting on in my. night-watches ; 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


but, after this, he paid no more visits of 
this sort to me than he paid to Mr. Marble. 
I had been gratified by his praises; but 
this quiet mode of showing confidence gave 
me more happiness than Il can express. 

We had a long passage out, the wind 
hanging to the eastward near three weeks. 
At length we got moderate southerly 
breezes, and began to travel on our 
course. Twenty-four hours after we had 
got the fair wind, I had the morning- 
watch, and made, as the day dawned, a 
sail directly abeam of us, to windward, 
about three leagues distant or just hull 
down. I went into the maintop, and ex- 
amined her with a glass. She was a ship 
seemingly of about our own Size, and 
carrying everything that would draw. I 
did not send word below until it was broad 
daylight, or for near half an hour; and in 
all that time her bearings did not vary 
any perceptible distance. 

Just as the sun rose, the captain and 
chief mate made their appearance on 
deck. At first they agreed in supposing 
the stranger a stray English West In- 
diaman, bound home; for at that time 
few merchant vessels were met at sea 
that were not English or American. The 
former usually sailed in convoys, how- 
ever; and the captain accounted for the 
circumstance that this was not thus pro- 
tected, by the fact of her sailing so fast. 
She might be a letter-of-marque, like our- 
selves, and vessels of that character did 
not take convoy. As the two vessels lay 
exactly abeam of each other, with square 
yards, it was not easy to judge of the 
sparring of the stranger, except by means 
of his masts. Marble, judging by the 
appearance of his topsails, began to think 
our neighbor might be a Frenchman, he 
had so much hoist to the sails. After 
some conversation on the subject, the 
captain ordered me to brace forward the 
yards, as far as the studding-sails would 


allow, and to luff nearer to the stranger. 


While the ship was thus changing her 
course, the day advanced, and our crew 
got their breakfast. 

As a matter of course, the strange 
ship, which kept on the same line of sail- 
ing as before, drew ahead of us a little, 


299 


while we neared her sensibly. In the 
course of three hours we were within a 
league of her, but well on her lee-quarter. 
Marble now unhesitatingly pronounced 
her to be a Frenchman, there being no 
such thing as mistaking the sails. To 
suppose an Englishman would go to sea 
with such triangles of royals, he held to 
be entirely out of the question ; and then 
he referred to me to know if I did not re- 
member the brig ‘‘we had licked in the 
West Indies, last v’y’ge, which had just 
such r’yals as the chap up there to wind- 
ward ?”’? I could see the resemblance, 
certainly, and had remarked the same 
peculiarity in the few French vessels 1 
had seen. 

‘Under all the circumstances, Captain 
Williams determined to get on the wea- 
ther-quarter of our neighbor, and take 
a still nearer look at him. That he was 
armed, we could see already; and, as 
near aS we could make out, he carried 
twelve guns, or just two more than we 
did ourselves. All this was encouraging ; 
sufficiently so, at least, to induce us to 
make a much closer examination than we 
had yet done. 

It took two more hours to bring the 
Crisis, fast as she sailed, on the weather- 
quarter of her neighbor, distant about a 
mile. Here our observations were much 
more to the purpose, and even Captain 
Williams pronounced the stranger to be a 
Frenchman, ‘‘and no doubt, a letter-of- 
marque, like ourselves.’” He had just 
uttered these words, when we saw the 
other vessel’s studding-sails coming down, 
her royals and topgallant-sails clewing 
up, and all the usual signs of her stripping 
for a fight. We had set our ensign early 
in the day, but, as yet, had got no an- 
swering symbol of nationality from the 
chase. As soon as she had taken in all 
her light canvas, however, she clewed up 
her courses, fired a gun to windward, and 
hoisted the French tri-color, the most 
graceful flag among the emblems of 
Christendom, but one that has been as 
remarkably unsuccessful in the deeds it 
has ‘witnessed on the high seas as it has _ 
been remarkable for the reverse on the 
land. ‘i 


300 WORKS 


The French have not been wanting in 
excellent sailors—gallant seamen, too ; 
but the result of their exploits afloat 
have ever borne a singular disproportion 
to the means employed—a few occasional 
exceptions just going to prove that the 
causes have been of a character as pe- 
culiar as these results have, in nearly 
all ages, been uniform. I have heard the 
want of success, in maritime exploits, 
among the French, attributed to a want 
of sympathy, in the nation, with mari- 
time things. Others, again, have sup- 
posed that the narrow system of prefer- 
ring birth to merit, which pervaded the 
whole economy of the French marine, 
as well as of its army, previously to the 
Revolution, could not fail to destroy the 
former, inasmuch as a man of family 
would not consent to undergo the toil 
and hardships that are unavoidable to the 
training of the true seaman. This last 
reason, however, can scarcely be the true 
one, as the young English noble has often 
made the most successful naval officer ; 
and the marine of France, in 1798, had 
surely every opportunity of perfecting 
itself, by downright practice, uninjured 
by favoritism, as that of America. For 
myself, though I have now reflected on 
the subject for years, | can come to no 
other conclusion than that national char- 
acter has some very important agency— 
or, perhaps, it might be safer to say, 
has had some very important agency— 
through some cause or other, in disquali- 
fying France from becoming a great 
naval power, in the sense of skill; in that 
of mere force, so great a nation must al- 
ways be formidable. Nowshe sends her 
princes to sea, however, we may look for 
different results. 

Notwithstanding the fact that an En- 
glishman, or an American, rarely went 
alongside of a Frenchman, in 1798, without 
a strong moral assurance of victory, he 
was sometimes disappointed. There was 
no lack of courage in their enemies, and 
it occasionally happened that there was no 
lack of skill. Every manifestation that 
the experience of our captain could detect, 
went to show that we had fallen in with 
one of these exceptions. As we drew 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


nearer to our enemy, we perceived that 
he was acting like a seaman. His sails 
had been furled without haste or con- 
fusion ; an infallible evidence of coolness 
and discipline when done on the eve of 
battle, and signs that the watchful sea- 
man, on such occasions, usually notes as 
unerring indications of the sort of strug- 
gle that awaits him. It was consequently 
understood, among us on the quarter- 
deck, that we were likely to have a warm 
day’s work of it. Nevertheless, we had 
gone too far to retreat without an effort, 
and we began, in our turn, to shorten 
sail, in readiness for the combat. Marble 
was a prince of a fellow, when it came to 
anything serious. I never saw him 
shorten sail so coolly and readily as he 
did that very day. We had everything 
ready in ten minutes after we began. 

It was rare, indeed, to see two letters- 
of-marque set to as coolly and as scientifi- 
cally as were the facts with the Crisis 
and la Dame de Nantes ; for so, as we 
afterward ascertained, was our antagonist 
called. Neither party aimed at any great 
advantage by maneuvering; but we came — 
up alongside of ‘‘ The Lady,’’ as our men 
subsequently nicknamed the Frenchman, 
the two vessels delivering their broadsides 
nearly at the same instant. I was sta- 
tioned on the forecastle, in charge of the 
head-sheets, with orders to attend gener- 
ally to the braces and the rigging, using 
a musket in moments that were not other- 
wise employed. Away went both my jib- 
sheet blocks at the beginning, giving me 
avery pretty job from the outset. This 
was but the commencement of trouble; 
for, during the two hours and a half that 
we lay battering la Dame de Nantes, and 
she lay battering us, I had really so much 
to attend to in the way of reeving, knot- 
ting, splicing, and turning in afresh, that 
I had scarcely a minute to look about me, 
in order to ascertain how the day was go- 
ing. I fired my musket but twice. The 
glimpses I did manage to take were far 
from satisfactory, however ; several of 
our people being killed or wounded, one 
gun fairly crippled by a shot, and our rig- 
ging in a sad plight. The only thing en- 
couraging was Neb’s shout, the fellow 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 301 


making it a point to roar almost as loud 
as his gun, at each discharge. 

It was evident from the first that the 
Frenchman had nearly twice as many 
men as we carried. This rendered any 
attempt at boarding imprudent, and, in 
the way of pounding, our prospects were 
by no means flattering. At length I 
heard a rushing sound over my head, and 
looking up, I saw that the main-topmast, 
with the yards and sails, had come down 
on the fore-braces, and might shortly be 
expected on deck. At this point, Captain 
Williams ordered all hands from the guns 
to clear the wreck. At the same instant, 
our antagonist, with a degree of com- 
plaisance that I could have hugged him 
for, ceased firing also. Both sides seemed 
to think it was very foolish for two mer- 
chantmen to lie within a cable’s length of 
each other, trying which could do the 
other the most harm; and both sides set 
about the, by this time, very necessary 
duty of repairing damages. While this 
was going on, the men at the wheel, by a 
species of instinctive caution, did their 
whole duty. The Crisis luffed all she 
was able, while la Dame de Nantes edged 
away all she conveniently could, placing 
more than a mile of blue water between 
the two vessels, before we, who were at 
work aloft, were aware they were so de- 
cidedly running on diverging lines. 

It was night before we got our wreck 
clear ; and then we had to look about us, 
to get out spare spars, fit them, rig them, 
point them, and sway them aloft. The 
last operation, however, was deferred un- 
til morning. As it was, the day’s work 
had been hard, and the people really 
wanted rest. Rest was granted them at 
eight o’clock; at which hour our late an- 
tagonist was visible about a league dis- 
tant, the darkness beginning to envelop 
her. In the morning the horizon was 
clear, owing to the repulsion which existed 
in so much force between the two vessels. 
It was not our business to trouble our- 
selves about the fate of our adversary, 
but to take heed of our own. That morn- 
ing we got up our spars, crossed the yards, 
and made sail again. We had several days’ 
work in repairing all our damages; but, 


happening to be found for a long voyage, 
and well found, too, by the end of a week 
the Crisis was in as good order as if we 
had not fought a battle. As for the com- 
bat, it was one of those in which either 
side might claim the victory, or not, as 7 
suited tastes. We had very ingenious ex- 
cuses for our failure, however ; and | make 
no doubt the French were just as ready, 
in this way, aS we were ourselves. 

Our loss in this engagement amounted 
to two men killed outright, and to seven 
wounded, two of whom died within a few 
days. The remaining wounded all re- 
covered, though the second mate, who was 
one of them, 1 believe never got to be 
again the man he had been. A canister- 
shot lodged near his hip, and the creature 
we had on board as a surgeon was not the 
hero to extract it. Inthat day, the coun- 
try was not so very well provided with 
medical men on the land as to spare many 
good ones tothe sea. In thenew navy it 
was much the fashion to say, ‘If you 
want a leg amputated, send for the car- 
penter ; he does know how to use a saw, 
while it is questionable whether the doctor 
knows how to use anything.’’ Times, 
however, are greatly altered in this re- 
spect; the gentlemen who now compose 
this branch of the service being not only 
worthy of commendation for their skill and 
services, but worthy ofthe graduated rank 
which I see they are just now asking of 
the justice of their country, and which, as 
that country ordinarily administers justice, 
Tam much afraid they will ask in vain. 


—_———_—__— 


CHAPTER IX. 


“Tf we 
Cannot defend our own door from the dog, 
Let us be worried; and our nation lose 
The name of hardiness, and policy.’-—HENRY V. 


THE combat between the Crisis and la 
Dame de Nantes took place in 42° 377 
12’’ north latitude, and 34° 16’ 43’” west 
longitude, from Greenwich. This was 
very near the center of the northern At- 
lantic, and gave us ample time to get our 
ship in good condition before we drew in 
with the land. Shortly after the affair, 


302 


the wind came out light at northeast, fore- 
ing us down nearer to the Bay of Biscay 
than was at all convenient, when bound 
to London. The weather grew foggy, 
too, which is not usual on the coast of 
Kurope, with the wind at east, and the 
nights dark. Just a fortnight after the 
action I was awakened early one morning 
by a rough shake of the shoulder from 
Marble, who had the watch, but who was 
calling me at least an hour before the 
time. ‘‘Bear a hand and turn out,’’ he 
said; ‘“l want you on deck, Mr. Walling- 
ford.”’ Lobeyed, of course, and soon stood 
in the presence of the chief mate, rubbing 
my eyes diligently, as they had to be 
opened by friction. 

It was just six bells, or seven o’clock, 
and one of the watch was on the point of 
making the bell proclaim as much, when 
Mr. Marble ordered him not to strike the 
hour. The weather was thick, or rather 
foggy, and the wind light, with very little 
sea going. All this I had time to notice, 
to listen to the unusual order about the 
bell, and to gape twice, before the mate 
turned tome. He seized my arm, carried 
me on the lee side of the quarter-deck, 
shook his finger at a vacant spot in the 
fog, and said: 

“Miles, my boy, down yonder, within 
half a mile of this very spot, is our friend 
the Frenchman !”’ 

‘‘ How is it possible you can know that, 
Mr. Marble?” [ demanded in surprise. 

‘‘ Because I have seen him, with these 
two good-looking eyes of mine. This fog 
opens and shuts like a playhouse-curtain, 
and I got a peep at the chap, about ten 
minutes since. It was a short look, but 
it was a sure one; I would swear to the 
fellow in any admiralty court in Christ- 
endom.’’ 

““And what do you intend to do, Mr. 
Marble? We found him a hard subject 
in clear weather; what can we do with 
him in thick ? ”’ 

“That depends on the old man; his 
very natur’ is overlaid by what has hap- 
pened already, and I rather think he will 
be for a fresh scrimmage ’’—Marble was 
an uneducated Kennebunk man, and by 


no means particular about his English. - 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


“There’ll be good picking in that French 
gentleman, Master Miles, for those’ who 
come in at the beginning of the plunder! ”’ 

The chief mate then told me to go be- 
low and turn up all hands, making as 
little rumpus about it as possible. This I 
did; and when I returned to the deck, I 
found the fingers of Marble going again, 
with Captain Williams for his auditor, 
just as they had gone to me, a few min- 
utes earlier. Being an officer, I made no — 
scruples about joining the party. Marble 
was giving his account of the manner in 
which he had momentarily seen the enemy, 
the canvas he was under, the course he 
was steering, and the air of security that 
prevailed about him. So much, he insist- 
ed he had noted, though he saw the ship 
for about twenty seconds only. All this, 
however, might be true, for a seaman’s 
eye is quick, and he has modes of his own 
for seeing a great dealin a brief space of 
time. Marble now proposed that we 
should go to quarters, run alongside of 
the Frenchman, pour in a broadside, and 
board him in the smoke. Our success 
would be certain, could we close with him 
without being seen; and it would be al- 
most as certain, could we engage him 
with our guns by surprise.. The chief 
mate was of opinion that we had dosed 
him in the other affair, in a way to sicken 
him; this time we should bring him to 
with a round turn ! 

The “old man’’ was pleased with the 
notion, Isaw ata glance; and I confess 
it took my fancy also. We all felt very 
sore at the result of the other attempt, 
and here it seemed as if fortune gave us a 
good occasion for repairing the evil. 

“There can be no harm in getting 
ready, Mr. Marble,’’ the captain obsery- 
ed; ‘“‘and when we are ready ourselves, 
we shall know better what to think of the 
matter.”’ 

This was no sooner said, than away we 
went to clear ship. Our task was soon 
done; the tompions were got out, the 
guns cast loose, ammunition was brought 
up, and a stand of grape was put in over 
the shot in every piece in both batteries, 
As the men were told the motive, they 
worked like dray-horses; and I do not 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


think we were ten minutes before the ship 
was ready to go into action at a moment’s 
notice. : 

All this time Captain Williams refused 
to keep the ship away. I believe he 
- wanted to get a look at our neighbor 
himself, for he could not but foresee what 
might be the consequences, should he run 
down in the fog,and engage a heavier 
vessel than his own, without the ceremony 
of a hail. The sea was covered with En- 
glishmen, and one of their cruisers might 
not very easily pardon such a mistake, 
however honestly made. But prepara- 
tion seems to infer a necessity for per- 
formance. When everything was ready, 
all eyes were turned aft in a way that 
human nature could hardly endure, and 
the captain was obliged to yield. As 
Marble, of all on board, had alone seen 
the other. vessel, he was directed to con 
the Crisis in the delicate operation she 
was about to undertake. 

As before, my station was on the fore- 
castle. I had been directed to keep a 
bright lookout, as the enemy would 
doubtless be seen from forward. The 
order was unnecessary, however, for 
never did human beings gaze into a fog 
more anxiously than did all on board 
our ship on this occasion. Caiculating 
by the distance, and the courses steered, 
we supposed ten or fifteen minutes would 
bring us square alongside of Mr. Mar- 
ble’s ship; though some among us 
doubted his having seen any vessel at 
all. There was about a five-knot breeze, 
and we had all our square sails set, 
knowing it was necessary to go a little 
faster than our adversary to catch up 
with him. The intense expectation, not 
to say anxiety, of such a scene, is not 
easily described. The surrounding fog, 
at times, seemed filled with ships; but 
all vanished into thick air, one after 
another, leaving nothing but vapor. 
Severe orders had been given for no one 
to call out, but, the moment the ship 
was seen, for the discoverer to go aft 
and report. At least a dozen men left 
their quarters on this errand, all return- 
ing in the next instant,.satisfied they 


| 


303 


increased the expectation; for each mo- 
ment must we be getting nearer and 
nearer to her, if any vessel were really 
there. Quite twenty mintutes, however, 
passed in this manner, and no ship was 
seen. | 

Marble continued cool and confident, 
but the captain and second mate smiled, 
while the people began to shake their 
heads, and roll the tobacco into their 
cheeks. As we advanced, our own ship 
luffed by degrees, until we had got fairly - 
on our old course again, or were sailing 
close upon the wind. This change was 
made easily, the braces not having been 
touched ; a precaution that was taken ex- 
pressly to give us the advantage. When 
we found ourselves once more close upon 
the wind, we gave the matter up for- 
ward, supposing the mate had been de- 
ceived. I saw by the expression of the 
captain’s face that he was about to give 
the order to secure the guns, when cast- 
ing my eyes forward, there was a ship, 
sure enough, within a hundred yards of 
us! I held up both arms, as I looked 
aft, and luckily caught the captain’s eye. 
In an instant he was on the forecastle. 

It was easy enough to see the stranger 
now. There he was in the fog, looking 
mystical and hazy ; but there he was un- 
der his main-topgallant-sail, close-hauled, 
and moving ahead in all the confidence of 
the solitude of the ocean. We could not 
see his hull, or so faintly as only to dis- 
tinguish its mass; but, from his tops up, 
there was no mistaking the objects. We 
had shot away the Frenchman’s mizzen- 
royal-mast. It was a pole, and there the 
stump stood, just as it was when we had 
last seen him on the evening of the day 
of the combat. This left no doubt of 
the character of our neighbor, and it at 
once determined our course. As it was, 
we were greatly outsailing him, but an 
order was immediately given to set the 
light staysails. As Captain Williams 
passed aft, he gave his orders to the men 
in the batteries. In the meantime the 
second mate, who spoke very good New 
York French, came upon the forecastle 
in readiness to answer the expected hail. 


had been deceived. Each moment, too, | As the Crisis was kept a little free in or- 


304 WORKS 


der to close, and as she sailed so fast, it 
was apparent we were coming up with the 
chase, hand over hand. 

The two ships were not more than a 
hundred feet asunder when the French- 
man first saw us. This blindness was ow- 
ing to several circumstances. In the first 
place, ten men look forward in a ship 
where one looks aft. Those who looked 
aloft, too, were generally on the quarter- 
deck, and this prevented them from looking 
astern. Then the Frenchman’s crew had 
just gone to their breakfast, most of them 
eating below. She was so strong-handed, 
moreover, aS to give a forenoon’s watch 
below, and this still left many of the slug- 
gards in their: hammocks. In that day 
even a French ship-of-the-line was no 
model of discipline or order, and a letter- 
of-marque was consequently worse. As 
it afterward appeared, we were first seen 
by the mate of the watch, who ran to the 
taffrail, and, instead of giving an order to 
call all hands, he hailed us. Mr. For- 
bank, our second mate, answered ; mum- 
bling his words so that, if they were bad 
French, they did not sound like good En- 
glish. He got out the name ‘‘Le Hasard, 
de Bordeaux,’ pretty plainly, however; 
and this served to mystify the mate for a 
few seconds. By the end of that time our 
bows were doubling on the Frenchman’s 
quarter, and we were sheering into him so 
fast as quite to distract the Nantes man. 
The hail had been heard below, however, 
and the Frenchmen came tumbling up by 
the dozen, forward and aft. 

Captain Williams was a prime seaman, 
and one of the coolest men that ever 
lived. Everything that day was done at 
precisely the proper moment. The French- 
man attempted to keep off, but our wheel 
was so touched as to keep us lapping in 
nearly a parallel line with them the whole 
time; and our forward sails soon becalmed 
even their mainsail. Of course, we went 
two feet to their one. Marble came on 
the forecastle just as our cathead was 
abreast of ‘The Lady’s” forward rigging. 
Less than a minute was required to take 
us so far forward, and that minute was 
one of great confusion among the French. 
As soon as Marble got on the forecastle, 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


he made a signal, the ensign was run up, 
and the order was given to fire. We let 
fly all five of our nine-pounders, loaded 
with two round and a stand of grape, at 
the same moment. At the next instant 
the crash of the ships coming foul of each 
other was heard. Marble shouted, “Come 
on, boys !”’ and away he, and I, and Neb, 
and all hands of us went on board of the 
Frenchman like a hurricane. I antici- 
pated a furious hand-to-hand conflict ; but 
we found the deck deserted, and had no 
difficulty whatever in getting possession. 
The surprise, the rush, and the effect of 
the broadside gave us an easy victory. 
The French captain had been nearly cut 
in two by a nine-pound shot, moreover, 
and both of the mates were severely 
wounded. These accidents contributed 
largely to our success, causing the enemy 
to abandon the defense as hopelaey) We > 
had not a soul hurt. 

The prize proved: to be the ship I have 
mentioned, a letter-of-marque, from Gua- 
deloupe, bound to Nantes. She was a 
trifle larger than the Crisis, mounted 
twelve French nines, and had eighty- 
three souls on board when she sailed. Of 
these, however, no less than twenty-three 
had been killed and wounded in our pre- 
vious affair with her, and several were ab- 
sent in a prize. Of the wounded, nearly 
all were still in their hammocks. Among 
the remainder, some sixteen or eighteen 
suffered by our close and destructive 
broadside on the present occasion, reduc- 
ing the efficient part of her crew to about 
our own numbers. The vessel was new 
and valuable, and her cargo was invoiced 
at something like sixty thousand dollars, 
having some cochineal among it. ) 

As soon as assured of our victory, the 
Crisis’s main-topsail was braced aback, 
as well as it could be, and her helm put 
down. At the same time, the Dame was 
kept away, and the two ships went clear. 
of each other. Little injury had been done 
by the collision, or the grinding; and, in 
consequence of our guns having been so 
much shotted, no damage whatever was 
done the lower masts of the prize. The 
shot had just force enough to pass through 
the bulwarks, make splinters, and to — 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


lodge. This left both vessels in good 
condition for going into port. 

At first it was determined to leave me 
in la Dame de Nantes, as prize-master, 
with directions to follow the Crisis into 
Falmouth, whither she was bound for 
orders. But, on further examination, it 
was discovered that the crew of an 
American brig was on board the prize as 
prisoners; la Dame de Nantes having 
captured the vessel only two days before 
we met the former the first time, taken 
out her people, manned her, and ordered 
her for Nantes. These Americans, includ- 
ing the master and two mates, amounted 
to thirteen souls in all, and they enabled 


us to make a different disposition of the 


prize. The result of an hour or two’s 
deliberations was as follows: 

Our old second mate, whose hurt was 
likely to require better care than could be 


. had on the northwest coast, was put on 


board the French ship as prize-master, 


‘with orders to make the best of his way 


to New York. The master and chief 
mate of the American brig agreed to act 
under him, and to assist in carrying la 
Dame across the ocean. Three or four of 
our invalids were sent home also, and the 
liberated Americans took service for the 
passage. All the French wounded were 
left in the ship, under the charge of their 
own surgeon, who was a man of some lit- 
tle merit, though a good deal of a butcher, 
as was too much the fashion of that day. 

It was dark before all the arrangements 
were made, when la Dame de Nantes 


-turned short round on her heel, and made 


sail for America. Of course our captain 
sent in his official report by her, and I 


seized a moment to write a short letter 


to Grace, which was so worded as to be 


addressed to the whole family. I knew 


how much happiness a line from me would 
bestow, and I had the pleasure to inform 
them, also, that I was promoted to be 
second mate—the second mate of the 
American brig having shipped as my suc- 
cessor in the rank of third officer. 

The parting on the wide ocean that 
night was solemn, and, in some respects, 
sad. We knew that several who were in 
la Dame de Nantes would probably be 


305 


left behind, as she traveled her long, 
solitary path, in the depths of the ocean ; 
and there were the chances that she, her- 
self, might never arrive. As respects the 
last, however, the odds were in her fa- 
vor, the American coast being effectually 
cleared of French privateers by that time ; 
and I subsequently received eleven hun- 
dred and seventy-three dollars for my 
share in that exploit. How I was.affected 
by the circumstance, and what I did with 
the money, will appear in the sequel. 

The Crisis made sail on a bowline, at 
the same moment her prize filled away 
for America; Miles Wallingford a much 
more important personage than he had 
been a few hours before. We put the 
prisoners below, keeping a good watch 
over them, and hauled off to the north- 
ward and westward, in order to avoid 
any French cruisers that might be hov- 
ering on their own coast. Captain Wil- 
hams seemed satisfied with the share of 
glory he had obtained, and manifested no 
further disposition to seek renown in arms. 
As for Marble, I never knew a man more 
exalted in his own esteem than he was 
by the results of that day’s work. It 
certainly did him great credit; but, from 
that hour, woe to the man who pretended 
to dispute with him concerning the char- 
acter of any sail that happened to cross 
our path. 

The day after we parted company with 
our prize, we made a sail to the westward, 
and hauled up to take a look at her, the 
wind having shifted. She was soon pro- 
nounced to be an American, but, though 
we showed our colors, the stranger, a 
brig, manifested no disposition to speak 
us. This induced Captain Williams to 
make sail in chase, more especially as the 
brig endeavored to elude us by passing 
ahead, and the run was pretty nearly on 
our course. At 4 P.M., we got near 
enough to throw a nine-pound shot be- 
tween the fellow’s masts, when the chase. 
hove-to, and permitted us to come up. 
The brig proved to be the prize of la Dame 
de Nantes, and we took possession of her 
forthwith. As this vessel was loaded 
with flour, pot and pearl ashes, etc., and 
was bound to London, I was put in charge 


306 WORKS 


of her, with a young man of my own age, 
of the name of Roger Talcott, for my as- 
sistant, having six men for my crew. Of 
course the Frenchmen, all but one who 
acted as cook and steward excepted, were 
received on board the Crisis. Neb went 
with me, through his own and my earnest 
entreaties, though spared by Marble with 
great reluctance. 

This was my first command ; and proud 
enough did I feel on the occasion, though 
almost dying with the apprehension of do- 
ing something wrong. My orders were, 
to make the Lizard light, and to crawl 
along up-Channel, keeping close in with 
the English coast; Captain Williams an- 
ticipating instructions to go to the same 
port to which the Amanda (the brig) was 
bound, and expecting to overtake us, after 
he had called at Falmouth for his orders. 
As the Orisis could go four feet to the 
Amanda’s three, before sunset our old 
ship was hull down ahead of us. 

When I took charge of the deck the 
next morning, I found myself on the wide 
ocean, with nothing in sight, at the age 
of eighteen, and in the enemy’s seas, with 
a valuable vessel to care for, my way to 
find into narrow waters that I had never 
entered, and a crew on board, of whom 
just one half were now on their first voy- 
age. Our green hands had manifested 
the aptitude of Americans, and had done 
wonders in the way of improvement, but 
a great deal still remained to be learned. 
The Crisis’s complement had been too 
large to employ everybody at all sorts of 
work, as is usually done in a merchant 
vessel with her ordinary number of hands, 
and the landsmen had to take their 
chances for instruction. Notwithstand- 
ing, the men I got were stout, healthy, 
willing and able to pull and haul with the 
oldest salts. 

By the arrangement that had been 
made, 1 was now thrown upon my own 
resources. Seainanship, navigation, ad- 
dress, prudence, all depended on me. I 
confess I was, at first, nearly as much 
depressed by the novelty and responsibil- 
ity of my command as Neb was delighted. 
But it is surprising how soon we get ac- 
customed to changes of this sort. The 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


first five or six hours set me quite at my 
ease, though it is true nothing occurred 
in the least out of the usual way; and, by 
the time the sun set, I should have been 
happy, could [ have got over the uneasi- 
ness produced by the darkness. 


The wind | 


had got round to southwest, and blew — 


fresh. I set a lower and a topmast stud- 
ding-sail, and by the time the light had 
entirely vanished, the brig began to drag 
after her canvas in a way to keep me 
wide awake. I was at a loss whether to 
shorten sail or not. On the one hand, 
there was the apprehension of carrying 
away something; and, on the other, the 
fear of seeming timid in the eyes of the 
two or three seamen I had with me. I 
watched the countenances of these men, 
in order to glean their private sentiments; 
but, usually Jack relies so much on his 
officers that he seldom anticipates evils. 
As for Neb, the harder it blew, the great- 
er was his rapture. He appeared to think 


the wind was Master Miles’s, as well as 


the ocean, the brig, and himself. The 
more there was of each, the richer I be- 
came. As for Talcott, he was scarcely 
as good a seaman as myself, though he 
was well educated, had good manners, 
was well connected, and had been my 
original competitor for the office of third 
mate. I had been preferred only through 
the earnest recommendations of Marble. 
Talcott, however, was as expert a navi- 
gator as we had in the ship, and had been 
placed with me on that account; Captain 
Williams fancying two heads might prove 
better than one. I took this young man 
into the cabin with me, not only as a com- 
panion, but to give him consideration with 
the people forward. On shore, though 
less fortunate in the way of estate, he 
would have been considered as fully my 
equal in position. 

Talcott and myself renahingd on deck 
together nearly the whole of the first 
night, and the little sleep I did get was 
caught in a topmast studding-sail that 
lay on the quarter-deck, and which | had 
determined not to set, after rousing it up 
for that purpose. When daylight re- 


turned, however, with a clear horizon, no 


increase of wind, and nothing in sight, J 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE, 


was so much relieved as to take a good 


nap untileight. All that day we started 
neither tack nor sheet, nor touched a 
brace. Toward evening I went aloft my- 
self to look for land, but without success, 
though I knew, from our observation at 
noon, it could not be far off. Fifty years 
ago the longitude was the great difficulty 
with navigators. Both Talcott and my- 
self did very well with the lunars, it is 
true ; but there was no chance to observe, 
and even lunars soon get out of their 
reckoning among currents and tides. 
Glad enough, then, was I to hear Neb 
sing out “ Light ahead !’’ from the fore- 
topsail-yard. This was about ten o’clock. 
I knew this light must be the Lizard, as 


we were too far to the eastward for Scilly. 


The course was changed so as to bring the 
light a little on the weather-bow; and Il 
watched for its appearance to us on deck 
with an anxiety 1 have experienced, since, 
only in the most trying circumstances. 
Half an hour sufficed for this, and then I 
felt comparatively happy. A new begin- 
ner even is not badly off with the wind 
fresh at southwest, and the Lizard light 
in plain view on his weather-bow, if he 
happen to be bound up-Channel. That 
night, consequently, proved to be more 
comfortable than the previous. 

Next morning there was no change, ex- 
cept in the brig’s position. We were well 
in the Channel, had the land as close 
aboard as was prudent and could plainly 
see, by objects ashore, that we were 
traveling ahead at a famous rate. We 
went within a mile of the Eddystone, so 
determined was I to keep as far as pos- 
sible from the French privateers. Next 


morning we were up abreast of the Isle of 


Wight; but the wind had got round to 
the southward and eastward, becoming 
much lighter, and so scant as to bring us 
ona taut bowline. This made England a 
lee-shore, and | began to be as glad to 
get off it as I had lately been to hug it. 
All this time, it will be easily understood, 
that we kept a sharp lookout, on board 
the brig, for enemies. We saw a great 
many sail, particularly as we approached 


. the Straits of Dover, and kept as much 


aloof from all as circumstances would 


307 


allow. Several were evidently English 
vessels-of-war, and I felt no small con- 
cern on the subject of having some of my 
men impressed; for at that period, and 
for many years afterward, ships of all 
nations that traded with the English lost 
many of their people by this practice, and 
the American craft more than any other. 
I ascribed to our sticking so close to the 
coast, which we did as long as it was at 
all safe, the manner in which we were 
permitted to pass unnoticed, or, at least, 
undetained. But as we drew nearer to 
the narrow waters, I had little hope of es- 
caping without being boarded. In the 
meanwhile, we made short stretches off 
the land, and back again all one day and 
night, working slowly to the eastward. 
We still met with no interruption. Iwas 
fast getting confidence in myself; hand- 
ling the Amanda, in my own judgment, 
quite as well as Marble could have done 
it, and getting my green hands into so 
much method and practice that I should 
not have hesitated about turning round 
and shaping our course for New York, so 
far as the mere business of navigating the 
vessel was concerned. 

The lights on the English coast were 
safe guides for our movements, and they 
let me understand how much we made or 
lost on a tack. Dungeness was drawing 
nearer slowly, to appearances, and | was 
beginning to look out for a pilot, when 
Talcott, who had the watch, about three 
in the morning, came with breathless 
haste into the cabin, to tell me there was 
a sail closing with us fast, and, so far as 
he could make her out in the darkness, 
she was lugger-rigged. This was start- 
ling news indeed, for it was almost tan- 
tamount to saying the stranger was a 
Frenchman. I did not undress at all, 
and was on deck in a moment. The ves- 
sel in chase was about half a mile distant 
on our lee-quarter, but could be plainly 
enough distinguished, and I saw at a 
glance she was a lugger. There were cer- 


tainly English luggers ; but all the tradi- 


tions of the profession had taught me. to 
regard a vessel of that particular rig as 
a Frenchman. I had heard of privateers 
from Dunkirk, Boulogne and various other 


308 


ports in France, running over to the 
English coast in the night,and making 
prizes, just as this fellow seemed disposed 
to serve us. Luckily, our head was tow- 
ard the land, and we were looking about 
a point and a half to windward of the 
light on Dungeness, being also favored 
with a flood tide, so far as we could judge 
by the rapid drift of the vessel to wind- 
ward. 

My decision was made in a minute. I 
knew nothing of batteries, or where to 
seek protection; but there was the land, 
and I determined to make for it as fast as 
I could. By keeping the brig a good full, 
and making all the sail she could carry, I 
thought we might run ashore before the 
lugger could get alongside us. As forher 
firing, I did not believe she would dare to 
attempt that, as it might bring some En- 
glish cruiser on her heels, and France was 
some hours’ sail distant. The fore and 
mizzen-topgallant sails were set as fast as 
possible, the weather-braces pulled upon a 
little, the bowlines eased, and the brig 
kept a rap-full. The Amanda was no 
flyer, certainly ; but she seemed frightened 
as much as we were ourselves, that night. I 
never knew her to get along so fast, consid- 
ering the wind; and really there was a short 
time when | began to think she held her 
own, the lugger being jammed up as close 
as she could be. But this was all delusion, 
that craft coming after us more like a sea- 
serpent than a machine carried ahead by 
canvas. I was soon certain that escape 
from sucha racer by sailing was altogether 
out of the question. 

The land and light were now close 
aboard us, and I expected every moment 
to hear the brig’s keel grinding on the 
bottom. At this instant I caught a faint 
glimpse of a vessel at anchor to the east- 
ward of the point, and apparently distant 
about a quarter of a mile. The thought 
struck me that she might be an English 
cruiser, for they frequently anchored in 
such places; and I called out, as it might 
be instinctively, ‘‘ Luff!’? Neb was at the 
helm, and I knew by his cheerful answer 
that the fellow was delighted. It was 
lucky we luffed as we did, for, on coming 
to the wind, the vessel gave a scrape that 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


was a fearful admonisher of what would 
have happened in another minute. The 
Amanda minded her helm beautifully, 
however, and we went past the nearest 
land without any further hints, heading 
up just high enough to fetch a little to 
windward of the vessel at anchor. At 
the next moment, the lugger, then about 
a cable’s length from us, was shut in by 
the land. I was now in great hopes the 
Frenchman would be obliged to tack ; but 
he had measured his distance well, and 
felt certain, it would seem, that he could 
lay past. He reasoned, probably, as Nel- 
son is said to have reasoned at the Nile; 
and aS some of his captains unquestion- 
ably ded reason; that is, if there was 
water enough for us, there was water 
enough for him. In another minute I saw 
him, jammed nearly into the wind’s eye, 
luffing past the point, and falling as easily 
into our wake as if drawn by attraction. 

All this time, the night was unbroken 
by any sound. Not a hail, nor a call, 
our own orders excepted, and they had 
been given in low tones, had been audible 
on board the Amanda. As regards the 
vessel at anchor, she appeared to give 
herself no concern. ‘There she lay, a fine 
ship, and, as I thought, a vessel-of-war, 
like a marine bird asleep on its proper ele- 
ment. We were directly between her and 
the lugger, and it is possible her anchor- 
watch did not see the latter. The three 
vessels were not more than half a cable’s 
length asunder; that is, we were about 
that distance from the ship, and the lug- 
ger was a very little further from us. 
Five minutes must determine the matter. 
Iwas on the brig’s forecastle, anxiously 
examining all [ could make out on board 
the ship, as her size, and shape, and rig 


became slowly more and more distinct ; 


and I hailed— 

‘‘Ship ahoy !”’ 

‘‘Hilloa! What brig’s that?” 

‘‘An American, with a French priva- 
teer-lugger close on board me, directly in 
my wake. You had better be stirring ! ”’ 

I heard the quick exclamation of “‘ The 
devil there is!’’ ‘‘ Bloody Yankees!”’ 
came next. Then followed the call of 


‘all hands.”’ It was plain enough my 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


notice had set everything in motion in 
that quarter. Talcott now came running 
‘forward to say he thought, from some 
movements on board the lugger, that her 
people were now first apprised of the vicin- 
ity of the ship. I had been sadly disap- 
pointed at the call for all hands on board 
the ship, for it was in the manner of a 
merchant-man, instead of that of a vessel- 
of-war. But we were getting too near 
to remain much longer in doubt. The 
Amanda was already sweeping up on 
the Englishman’s bows, not more than 
forty yards distant. 

‘She is an English West Indiaman, 
Mr. Wallingford,’’ said one of my oldest 
seamen, ‘‘and a running ship ; some vessel 
that has deserted or lost her convoy.”’ 

*“Do you know anything of the lug- 
_ ger?’ demanded an officer from on board 
the ship, in a voice that was not very 
amicable. 

‘*No more than you see ; she has chased 
me, close aboard, for the last twenty 
minutes.’’ 

There was no reply to this for a mo- 
ment, and then I was asked ‘‘ to tack, 
and give us a little chance, by drawing 
him away for a few minutes. We are 
armed, and will come out to your assist- 
ance.”’ 

Had I been ten years older, experience 
in the faith of men, and especially of men 
engaged in the pursuit of gain would have 
prevented me from complying with this 
request—but, at eighteen, one views these 
things differently. It did appear to me 
ungenerous to lead an enemy in upona 
man in his sleep, and not endeavor to do 
something to aid the surprised party; I 
answered ‘‘ay, ay,’’ therefore, and tacked 
directly alongside of the ship. But the 
maneuver was too late, the lugger coming 
_in between the ship and the brig, just as 
we began to draw ahead again, leaving 
him room, and getting a good look at us 
both. The Englishman appeared the most 
inviting, I suppose, for she up helm and 
went on board of him on his quarter. 
Neither party used their guns. We were 
so near, however, as plainly to understand 
the whole, to distinguish the orders and 
even to hear the blows that were struck by 


309 


hand. It was an awful minute to us in 
the brig. The cries of the hurt reached us 
in the stillness of that gloomy morning, 
and oaths mingled with the clamor. 
Though taken by surprise, John Bull 
fought well; though we could see that he 
was overpowerd, however, just as the 
distance, and the haze that was beginning 
to gather thick around the land, shut in 
the two vessels from our view. 

The disappearance of the two combat- 
ants furnished me with a hint how to pro- 
ceed. Istood out three or four minutes 
longer, or a sufficient distance to make 
certain we should not be seen, and tacked 
again. In order to draw as fast as pos- 
sible out of the line of sight, we kept the 
brig off a little, and then ran in toward 
the English coast, which was sufficiently 
distant to enable us to stand on in that 
direction some little time longer. This 
expedient succeeded perfectly ; for, when 
we found it necessary to tack again, day 
began to dawn. Shortly after we could 
just discern the West Indiaman and the 
lugger standing off the land, making the 
best of their way toward the French 
coast. In 1799, it is possible that this 
bold Frenchman got his prize into some 
of his own ports, though three or four 
years later it would have been nearly a 
hopeless experiment. As for the Amanda, 
she was safe ; and Nelson did not feel hap- 
pier after his great achievement at the 
Nile, than I felt at the success of my own 
expedient. Talcott congratulated me and 
applauded me; and I believe all of us 
were a little too much disposed to ascribe 
to our own steadiness and address much 
that ought fairly to have been imputed to 
chance. 

Off Dover we got a pilot, and learned 
that the ship captured was the Dorothea, 
a valuable West Indiaman that had stolen 
away from her convoy, and came in alone, 
the previous evening. She anchored under 
Dungeness at the first of the ebb, and, it 
seems, had preferred taking a good 
night’s rest to venturing out in the dark, 
when the flood made. Her berth was a 
perfectly snug one, and the lugger would 
probably never have found her, had we 
not led her directly in upon her prey. 


310 


I was now relieved from all charge of 
the brig; and a relief I found it, between 
shoals, enemies, and the tides, of which I 
knew nothing. That day we got into the 
Downs, and came to. Here I saw a fleet 
at anchor; and a pretty stir it made 
among the men-of-war’s men, when our 
story was repeated among them. I do 
think twenty of their boats were along- 
side of us, to get the facts from ‘the 
original source. Among others who thus 
appeared, to question me, was one old 
gentleman, whom I suspected of being 
an admiral. He was in shore-dress, and 
came in a plain way; the men in his boat 
declining to answer any questions; but 
they paid him unusual respect. This 
gentleman asked me a great many par- 
ticulars, and I told him the whole story 
frankly, concealing or. coloring nothing. 
He was evidently much interested. When 
he went away, he shook me cordially by 
the hand, and said, ‘‘ Young gentleman, 
you have acted. prudently and well. 
Never mind: the grumbling of some of 
our lads; they think only of themselves. 
It was your right and your duty to save 
your own vessel, if you could, without 
doing anything dishonorable; and I see 
nothing wrong in your conduct. But it’s 
a sad disgrace to us to let these French 
rascals be picking up their crumbs in this 
fashion right under our hawse-holes.”’ 


CHAPTER X. 


** How pleasant and how sad the turning tide 

Of human life, when side by side 

The child and youth begin to glide 
Along the vale of years: 

The pure twin-being for a little space, 

With lightsome heart, and yet a graver face, 
Too young for woe, though not for tears.” 

—ALLSTON. 


WiIrTH what interest and deference most 
Americans of any education regarded En- 
gland, her history, laws and institutions, 
in 1799! There were a few exceptions— 
warm political partisans, and here and 
there an individual whose feelings had 
become imbittered by some particular in- 
cident of the Revolution—but surprisingly 
few, when it is recollected that the country 


“Baer 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


was only fifteen years from the peace. I 
question if there ever existed another in- 
stance of as strong provincial admiration 
for the capital, as independent America 
manifested for the mother country, in 
spite of a thousand just grievances, down 
to the period of the war of 1812. I was 
no exception to the rule, nor was Talcott. 
Neither of us had.ever seen England be- 
fore we made the Lizard on this voyage, 
except through our minds’ eyes ; and these 
had presented quantities of beauties and 
excellences that certainly vanished on a 
nearer approach. By this I merely mean 
that we had painted in too high colors, as 
is apt to be the case when the imagination 
holds the pencil; not that there was any 
unusual absence of things worthy to be 
commended. On the contrary, even at 
this late hour, I consider England as a | 
model for a thousand advantages, even to | 
our own inappreciable selves. Neverthe- 
less, much delusion was blended with our 
admiration. ; 

English history was virtually American 
history : and everything on the land, as 
we made our way toward town, which the 
pilot could point out, was a source of 
amusement and delight. We had to tide 
it up to London, and had plenty of leisure 
to see all there was to be seen. The 
Thames is neither a handsome nor a very 
magnificent river; but it was amazing 
to witness the number of vessels that 
then ascended or descended it. There 
was scarce a sort of craft known to Chris- » 
tendom, a few of the Mediterranean ex- 
cepted, that was not to be seen there ; and 
as for the colliers, we drifted through a 
forest of them that seemed large enough 
to keep the town a twelvemonth in fire- 
wood, by simply burning their spars. 
The manner in which the pilot handled 
our brig, too, among the thousand ships 
that lay in tiers on each side of the nar- 
row passage we had to thread, was per: 
fectly surprising to me; resembling the 
management of a coachman in a crowded 
thoroughfare, more than the ordinary 
working of a ship. I can safely say I 
learned more in the Thames, in the way © 
of keeping a vessel in command, and in 
doing what I pleased with*her, than in the 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


whole of my voyage to Canton and back 
again. As for Neb, he rolled his dark 


eyes about in wonder, and took an occa- 


sion to say to me, ‘‘ He’ll make her talk, 
Masser Miles, afore he have done.” I 
make no doubt the navigation from the 
Forelands to the bridge, as it was con- 
ducted thirty years since, had a great in- 
fluence on the seamanship of the English. 
Steamers are doing away with much of 
this practice, though the colliers still have 
torely onthemselves. Coals will scarcely 
pay for tugging. 

I had been directed by Captain Wil- 
liams to deliver the brig to her original 
consignee, an American merchant estab- 
lished in the modern Babylon, reserving 
the usual claim for salvage. This I did, 
and that gentleman sent hands on board 
to take charge of the vessel, relieving me 


entirely from all further responsibility. 


As the captain in his letter had, inadvert- 
ently I trust, mentioned that he had put 
“Mr. Wallingford, his third mate,’ in 


charge, I got no invitation to dinner from 


the consigne; though the affair of the 
capture under Dungeness found its way 
into the papers, via Deal, I have always 
thought, with the usual caption of ‘‘ Yan- 
kee Trick.”’ 

Yankee trick! This phrase, so often 
carelessly used, has probably done a great 
deal of harm in this country. The young 
and ambitious—there are all sorts of am- 
bition, and, among others, that of being a 
rogue; as a proof of which, one daily 
hears people call envy, jealousy, covet- 
ousness, avarice, and half of the meaner 
vices, ambition—the young and ambitious, 
then, of this country too often think to do 
a good thing that shall have some of the 
peculiar merit of a certain other good 
thing that they have heard laughed at and 
applauded under this designation. I can 
account in no other manner for the great 
and increasing number of *‘ Yankee tricks ”’ 
that. are of daily occurrence among us. 
Among other improvements in tastes, 
not to say in morals, that might be intro- 
duced into the American press, would be 
the omission of the histories of these rare 
inventions. As two-thirds of the editors 


of the whole country, however, are Yan- 


dll 


kees, [ suppose they must be permitted to 
go on exulting in the cleverness of their 
race. We are indebted to the Puritan _ 
stock for most of our instructors—editors’ 
and schoolmasters—and when one coolly 
regards the prodigious progress of the peo- 
ple in morals, public and private virtue, 
honesty, and other estimable qualities, 
he must, indeed, rejoice in the fact that 
our masters so early discovered ‘‘ a church 
without a bishop.’’ 

I had an opportunity while in London, 
however, of ascertaining that the land of 
our fathers, which, by the way, has arch- 
bishops, contains something besides an 
unalloyed virtue in its bosom. At Graves- 
end we took on board two custom-house 
officers (they always set a rogue to watch 
a rogue inthe English revenue system), 
and they remained in the brig until she 
was discharged. One of these men had 
been a gentleman’s servant, and he owed 
his place to his former master’s interest. 
He was a miracle of custom-house integ- 
rity and disinterestedness, as I discovered 
in the first hour of our intercourse. Per- 
ceiving a lad of eighteen in charge of the 
prize, and ignorant that this lad had read 
a good deal of Latin and Greek under ex- 
cellent Mr. Hardinge, besides being the 
heir of Clawbonny, I suppose he fancied 
he would have an easy time with him. 
The man’s name was, Sweeney. 

Perceiving in me an eager desire to see 
everything, the brig was no sooner at her 
moorings than he proposed a cruise ashore. 
It was Sweeney who showed me the way 
to the consignee’s, and, that business ac- 
complished, he proposed that we should 
proceed on and take a look at St. Paul’s, 
the Monument, and, as he gradually found 
my tastes more intellectual than, he at 
first supposed, the wonders of the West 
End. I was nearly a week under the 
pilotage of the ‘‘ Admirable Sweeney.” 
After showing me the exteriors of all the 
things of mark about the town, and the 
interiors of a few that I was disposed to 
pay for, he descended in his tastes, and 
carried me through Wapping, its purlieus 
and its scenes of atrocities. I have al- 
ways thought Sweeney was sounding me, 
and hoping to ascertain my true char- 


312 WORKS 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


acter by the course he took; and that | before the longings or weaknesses of human 


he betrayed his motives in a proposition 
which he finally made, and which brought 
our intimacy to a sudden close. The re- 
‘sult, however, was to let me into secrets 
I should probably have never learned in 
any other manner. Still, I had read and 
heard too much to be easily duped; and I 
kept myself not only out of the power of 
my tempter, but out of the power of all 
that could injure me, remaining simply 
a curious observer of what was placed be- 
fore my eyes. Good Mr. Hardinge’s les- 
sons were not wholly forgotten; I could 
run away from him much easier than from 
his precepts. : 

I shall never forget a visit I made to a 
house called the Black Horse, in St. Cath- 
erine’s Lane. This last was a narrow 
street that ran across the site of the 
docks that now bear the same name; and 
it was the resort of all the local infamy of 
Wapping. Isay local infamy; for there 
were portions of the West End that were 
even worse than anything which a mere 
port could produce. Commerce, that 
parent of so much that is useful to man, 
has its dark side, as everything else of 
earth; and, among its other evils, it 
drags after it a long train of low vice; 
but this train is neither so long nor so 
broad as that which is chained to the 
chariot-wheels of the great. Appearances 
excepted, and they are far less than might 
be expected, I think the West End could 
beat Wapping out and out in every essen- 
tial vice; and, if St. Giles be taken into 
the account, I know of no salvo in favor 
of the land over the sea. 

Our visit to the Black Horse was paid 
of a Sunday, that being the leisure mo- 
ment of all classes of laborers, and the 
day when, being attired in their best, they 
fancied themselves best prepared to ap- 
pear in the world. I will here remark, 
that ] have never been in any portion of 
Christendom that keeps the Sabbath pre- 
cisely as it is kept in America. In all 
other countries, even the most rigorously 
severe in their practices, it is kept as a 
day of recreation and rest, as well as of 
public devotion. Even in the American 
towns, the old observances are giving way 


nature; and Sunday is no longer what it 
was. I have witnessed scenes of brawl- 
ing, blasphemy, and rude tumult in the 
suburbs of New York, on Sundays, within 
the last few years, that I have never seen 
in any other part of the world on similar 
occasions ; and serious doubts of the ex- 
pediency of the high-pressure principle 
have beset me, whatever may be the just 
constructions of doctrine. With the last 
I pretend not to meddle; but, in a worldly 
point of view, it would seem wise, if you 
cannot make men all that they ought to 
be, to aim at such social regulations as 
shall make them as little vile as possible. 
But, to return to the Black Horse in St. 
Catherine’s Lane—a place whose very 
name was associated with vileness. 

It is unnecessary to speak of the char- 
acters of its female visitors. Most of 
them were young, many of them were 
still blooming and handsome, but all of 
them were abandoned. ‘‘I need tell you 
nothing of these girls,’’ said Sweeney, 
who was a bit of a philosopher in his way, 
ordering a pot of beer, amd motioning me 
to take a seat at a vacant table—‘‘ but, as 
for the men you see here, half are house- 
breakers and pickpockets, come to pass 
the day genteelly among you gentlemen- 
sailors. Thereare two or three faces here 
that I have seen at the Old Bailey, my- 
self; and how they have remained in the 
country is more than I can tell you. You 
perceive these fellows are just as much at 
their ease, and the landlord who receives 
and entertains them is just as much at 
his ease, as if the whole party were mere- 
ly honest men.”’ 

‘How happensit,’’ I asked, “‘ that such 
known rogues are allowed to go at large, 
or that this innkeeper dares to receive 
them ?”’ 

‘©QOh! you’re a child yet, or you would 
not ask such a question! You must 
know, Master Wallingford, that the law. 
protects rogues as well as honest men. 
To convict a pickpocket, you must have 
witnesses, and jurors to agree, and prose- | 
cutors and a sight of things that are not 
as plenty as handkerchiefs, or even wal- 
lets and Bank of Kngland notes. Besides, 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


these fellows can prove an alibi any 
day in the week. An alibi, you must 
know Af 

«<7 know very well what an alibi means, 
Mr. Sweeney.”’ 

‘The deuce you do!” exclaimed the 
protector of the king’s revenue, eying 
me a little distrustfully. ‘‘ And pray, 
how should one as young as you, and 
coming from a new country like America, 
know that? ”’ 

“Oh!” said I, laughing, ‘‘ America is 
just the country for alibis—everybody is 
everywhere, and nobody anywhere. The 
whole nation is in motion, and there is 
every imaginable opportunity for alzbis.”’ 

I believe I owed the development of 
Sweeney’s ‘“‘ ulterior views ”’ to this care- 
less speech. He had no other idea of the 
word than its legal signification ; and it 
must have struck him as a little sus- 
picious that one of my apparent condition 
in life, and especially of my years, should 
be thus early instructed in the meaning of 
this very useful professional term. It 
was a minute before he spoke again, 
having been all that time studying my 
countenance. 

«And pray, Master Wallingford,’’ he 
then inquired, ‘“‘do you happen to know 
what nolle prosequi means too ?”’ 

‘Certainly ; it means to give up the 
chase. The French lugger under Dunge- 
ness entered a nolle prosequi as respects 
my brig, when she found her hands full of 
the West Indiaman.’’ 

«So, so; I find I have been keeping 
company all this time with a knowing 
one, and I such a simpleton as to fancy 
him green! Well, that I should live to be 
done by a raw Jonathan !”’ 

‘‘Poh, poh, Mr. Sweeney, I can tell you 
a story of two of our naval officers, that 
took place just before we sailed ; and then 
you will learn that all hands of us, on the 
other side of the Big Pond, understand 
Latin. One of these officers had been 
“engaged in a duel, and he found it neces- 
sary to lie hid. A friend and shipmate, 
who was in his secret, came one day ina 
great hurry to tell him that the authori- 
ties of the State in which the parties 
fought had ‘entered a nolle prosequi’ 


313 


against the offenders. He had a news- 
paper with the whole thing in it, in print. 
‘What’s a nolle prosequt, Jack?’ asked 
Tom. ‘Why, it’s Latin, to be sure, and 
it means some infernal thing or other. 
We must contrive to find out, for it’s half 
the battle to know who and what you’ve 
got to face.’ ‘Well, you know lots of 
lawyers, and dare show your face, so just 
step out and ask one.’ ‘IJ’ll trust no law- 
yer; I might put the question to some 
chap who has been feed. But we both 
studied a little Latin when boys, and 
betwe2n us we’ll undermine the meaning.’ 
Tom assented, and to work they went. 
Jack had the most Latin, but, do all he 
could, he was not able to find a ‘ nolle’ in 
any dictionary. Aftera great deal of con- 
jecture, the friends agreed it must be the 
root of ‘knowledge,’ and that point was 
settled. As for the ‘ prosequt,’ it was not 
so difficult as ‘sequor’ was a familiar 
word; and, after some cogitation, Jack 
announced his discoveries. ‘If this thing 
were in English, now,’ he said, ‘a fellow 
might understand it. In that case, I 
should say that the sheriff’s men were in 
‘‘ pursuit of knowledge ;”’ that is, hunting 
after you ; but Latin, you remember, was 
always an inverted sort of stuff, and that 
‘“oro’’ alters the whole signification. 
The paper says they’ve “entered a nolle 
prosequi ;’’ and the “entered ’’ explains 
the whole. ‘‘Entered a nolle’’ means 
have entered on the knowledge, got a 
scent; you see it is law English; ‘“‘pro”’ 
means ‘“‘how,’’? and “‘sequi,’”? ‘‘to give 
chase.”? The amount of it all is, Tom, 
that they are on your heels, and I must 
go to work and send you off, at once, 
two or three hundred miles into the in- 
terior, where you may laugh at them and 
their “‘nolle prosequis’’ together.’.’’ * 
Sweeney laughed heartily at this story, 

though he clearly did not take the joke, 
which I presume he fancied lay concealed 
under an American flash language, and 
he proposed, by way of finishing the day, 
to carry me to an entertainment where, 
he gave me to understand, American offi- 
cers were fond of sometimes passing a few 
Beyerlne tying ee cf hati ar) eee te Naty eaten > seta att aged, 


* There is said to be foundation for this story. 


314 


minutes. Iwas led to a Wapping assem- 
bly room, on entering which I found my- 
self in a party composed of some forty or 
fifty cooks and stewards of American ves- 
sels, all as black as their own pots, with 
partners of the usual color and bloom of 
English girls. I have as few prejudices 
of color as any American well can have, 
but I will confess this scene struck me as 
being painfully out of keeping. In En- 
gland, however, nothing seemed to be 
thought of it; and I afterward found that 
marriages between English women, and 
men of all the colors of the rainbow, were 
very common occurrences. 

When he had given me this ball as the 
climax of his compliments, Sweeney be- 
trayed the real motive of all his attentions. 
After drinking a pot of beer extra, well 
laced with gin, he offered his services in 
smuggling anything ashore that the 
Amanda might happen to contain, and 
which I, as the prize-master, might feel a 
desire to appropriate to my own particular 
purposes. I met the proposal with a little 
warmth, letting my tempter understand 
that I considered his offer so near an insult, 
that it must terminate Our acquaintance. 
The man seemed astounded. In the first 
place, he evidently thought all goods and 
chattels were made to be plundered, and 
then he was of opinion that plundering 
was a very common “ Yankee trick.’’ 
Had I been an Englishman, he might pos- 
sibly have understood my conduct; but, 
with him, it was so much a habit to fancy 
an American a rogue, that, as Il afterward 
discovered, he was trying to persuade the 
leader of a press-gang that I was the half- 
educated and illegitimate son of some 
English merchant, who wished to pass 
himself off for an American. I pretend 
not to account for the contradiction, 
though J have often met with the same 
moral phenomena among his countrymen ; 
but here was as regular a rogue as ever 
cheated, who pretended to think roguery 
indigenous to certain nations, among 
whom his own was not included. 

At length I was cheered with the sight 
of the Crisis, as she came drifting through 
the tiers, turning and twisting, and glanc- 
ing along, just as the Amanda had done 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


before her. The pilot carried her to 
moorings quite near us; and Talcott, Neb 
and I were on board her before she was 
fairly secured. My reception was very 
favorable, Captain Williams having seen 
the account of the ‘‘ Yankee trick ”’ in the 
papers ; and, understanding the thing just 
asit had happened, he placed the most ad- 
vantageous construction on all I had done. 
For myself, I confess Inever had any mis- 
giving on the subject. 

All hands of us were glad to be back in 
the Crisis again. Captain Williams had 
remained at Falmouth longer than he ex- 
pected, to make some repairs that could 
not be thoroughly completed at sea, which 
alone prevented him from getting into the 
river as soon as I did myself. Now the 
ship was in, we no longer felt any appre- 
hension of being impressed, Sweeney’s 
malignancy having set several of the gang 
upon the scent after us. Whether the 
fellow actually thought I was an English 
subject or not, is more than I ever knew; 
but I felt no disposition myself to let the 
point be called in question before my Lord 
Chief Justice of a Rendezvous. The 
King’s Bench was more governed by safe 
principles, in its decisions, than the gentle- 
men who presided in these marine courts 
of the British navy. 

As Iwas the only officer in the ship who 
had ever seen anything of London, my 
fortnight’s experiencc made me a notable 
man in the cabin. It was actually greater 
preferment for me than when I was raised 
from third to be second mate. Marble 
was all curiosity to see the English capi- 
tal, and he made me promise to be his 
pilot, as soon as duty would allow time 
for a stroll, and to show him everything 
I had seen myself. We soon got out the 
cargo, and then took in ballast for our 
northwest voyage; the articles we in- 
tended to traffic with on the coast being 
too few and too light to fill the ship. This 
kept us busy for a fortnight, after which we 
had to look about us to obtain men to sup- 
ply the places of those who had been killed 
or sent away in la Dame de Nantes. Of 
course we preferred Americans; and this 
so much the more, as Englishmen were 
liable to be pressed at any moment. Fortu- 


- fleets may be acting in concert. 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


nately, a party of men that had been taken 
out of an American ship, a twelvemonth 
before, by an English cruiser, had obtained 
their discharges; and they all came to 
London for the double purpose of getting 
some prize money, and of obtaining pas- 
sages home. These lads were pleased with 
the Crisis and the voyage, and, instead 
of returning to their own country, sailor- 
like, they took service to go nearly round 
the world. These were first-rate men— 
Delaware River seamen—and proved a 
great accession to our force. We owed 
the windfall to the reputation the ship had 
obtained by her affairs with the letter-of- 
marque ; an account of which, copied from 
the log-book, and a little embellished by 
some one on shore, the consignee had 
taken care should appear in the journals. 
The history of the surprise, in particu- 
lar, read very well; and the English were 
in a remarkably good humor, at that 
time, to receive an account of any discom- 
fiture of a Frenchman. At no period 
since the year 1775 had the American 
character stood so high in England as 
it did just then; the two nations, for a 
novelty, fighting on the same side. Not 
long after we left London, the underwrit- 
ers at Lloyd’s actually voted a handsome 
compliment to an American commander 
for capturing a French frigate. Stranger 
things have happened than to have the 
day arrive when English and American 
No one 
can tell what is in the womb of time; and 
I have lived long enough to know that no 
man can foresee who will continue to be 
his friends, or a nation what people may 
become its enemies. 

The Crisis at length began to take in 
her bales and boxes for the northwest 
coast, and, as the articles were received 
slowly, or a few packages at a time, it 
gave us leisure for play. Our captain 
was in such good humor with us, on ac- 
count of the success of the outward-bound 
passage, that he proved very indulgent. 
This disposition was probably increased 
by the circumstance that a ship arrived 
in a very short passage from New York, 
which spoke our prize; all well, with a 
smacking southerly breeze, a clear coast, 


315 


and a run of only a few hundred miles to 
make. This left the almost moral cer- 
tainty that la Dame de Nantes had ar- 
rived safe, no Frenchman being likely to 
trust herself on that distant coast, which 
was now alive with our own cruisers, g0- 
ing to or returning from the West Indies. 

I had a laughable time in showing 
Marble the sights of London. ' We began 
with the wild beasts in the Tower as in 
duty bound ; but of these our mate spoke 
very disparagingly. He had been too 
often in the east ‘‘to be taken in by such 
animals;’’ and, to own the truth, the 
cockneys were easily satisfied on the score 
of their ménagerie. Wenext went to the 
Monument; but this did not please him. 
He had seen a shot-tower in America— 
there was but one in that day—that beat 
it out and outas to height, and he thought 
in beauty, too. There was no reasoning 
against this. St. Paul’s rather confound- 
ed him. He frankly admitted there was 
no such church at Kennebunk ; though he 
did not know but Trinity, New York, 
‘ mig¢ht stand up alongside of it.”’ “* Stand 
up alongside of it !’’ I repeated, laughing. 
‘Why, Mr. Marble, Trinity, steeple and 
all, could stand up in it—under that dome 
and then leave more room in this build- 
ing than all the other churches in New 
York contain, put all together.’’ 

It was a long time before Marble for- 
gave this speech. He said it was “‘un- 
patriotic ;’? a word which was less used in 
1799 than it is used to-day, certainly, but 
which, nevertheless, was used. It often 
meant then, as now, a thick and thin per- 
tinacity in believing in provincial marvels ; 
and, in this, Marble was one of the most 
patriotic men with whom I ever met. I 
got him out of the church, and along 
Fleet Street, through Temple Bar, and 
into the Strand, however, in peace; and 
then we emerged into the arena of fashion, 
aristocracy and the court. After a time 
we worked our way into Hyde Park, 
where we brought up, to make our obser- 
vations. 

Marble was deeply averse to acknowl- 
edging all the admiration he really felt at 
the turnouts of London, as they were ex- 
hibited in the park, of a fine day, in their 


316 WORKS OF 


season. It is probable the world else- 
where never saw anything approaching 
the beauty and magnificence that is here 
daily seen, at certain times, so far as 
beauty and magnificence are connected 
with equipages, including carriages, 
horses, and servants. Unable to find 
fault with the tout ensemble, our mate 
made a violent attack on theliveries. He 
protested it was indecent to put a “hired 
man ’’—the word help never being applied 
to the male sex, I believe, by the most 
fastidious New England purist —in a 
cocked hat; a decoration that ought to 
be exclusively devoted to the uses of min- 
isters of the gospel, governors of States, 
and militia officers. 

I had some notions of the habits of the 
great world, through books, and’ some 
little learned by observation and _ listen- 
ing; but Marble scouted at most of my 
explanations. He put his own construc- 
tion on everything he saw; and I have 
often thought, since, could the publish- 
ers of travels have had the benefit of 
his blunders, how many would have 
profited by them. Gentlemen were just 
then beginning to drive their own 
coaches; and I remember in a particular 
instance, an ultra in the new mode had 
actually put his coachman in the inside, 
while he occupied the dickey in person. 
Such a gross violation of the proprieties 
was unusual, even in London; but there 
sat Jehu, in all the dignity of cotton- 
lace, plush, and a cocked hat. Marble 
took it into his head that this man was 
the king, and no reasoning of mine could 
persuade him to the contrary. In vain 
I pointed out to him a hundred similar 
dignitaries, in the proper exercise of their 
vocation, on the hammercloths; he cared 
not a straw—this was not showing him 
one 7nside ; and a gentleman inside of a 
carriage, who wore so fine a coat, and a 
cocked hat in the bargain, could be noth- 
ing less than some dignitary of the em- 
pire; and why not the king? Absurd as 
all this may seem, I have known mistakes, 
connected with the workings of our own 
institutions, almost as great, made by 
theorists from Europe. 

While Marble and I were wrangling on 


. din. 
FENIMORE COOPER. 


this very point, a little incident occurred 
which led to important consequences in 
the end. Hackney-coaches, or any other 
public conveyance, short of post-chaises 
and post-horses, are not admitted into the 
English parks. But glass-coaches are, 
meaning by this term, which is never used 
in America, hired carriages that do not go 
on the stands. We encountered one of 
these glass-coaches in a very serious diffi- 
culty. The horses had got frightened by 
means of a wheelbarrow, aided, probably, 
by some bad management of the driver, 
and had actually backed the hind wheels 
of the vehicle into the water of the canal. 
They would have soon had the whole car- 
riage submerged, and have followed it 
themselves, had it not been for the chief 
mate and myself. I thrust the wheel- 
barrow uncer one of the forward wheels 
just in time to prevent the final catas- 
trophe; while Marble grasped the spoke 
with his iron gripe, and, together, he 
and the wheelbarrow made a resistance 
that counterbalanced the backward tend- 
ency of the team. ‘There was no footman; 
and, springing to the door, Laided a sickly- 
looking elderly man, a female, who might 
very well have been his wife, and another 
that I took for his daughter, to escape. 
By my agency all three were put on the 
dry land, without even wetting their feet, 
though I fared worse myself. No sooner 
were they safe than Marble, who was up 
to his shoulders in the water, and who had 
made prodigious efforts to maintain the 
balance of power, released his hold, the 
wheelbarrow gave way at the same mo- 
ment, and the whole affair, coach and 
horses, had their will, and went, stern 
foremost, overboard. One of the horses 
was saved, I believe, and the other 
drowned ; but, a crowd soon collecting, I 
paid little attention to what was going on 
in the carriage, aS soon as its cargo was 
discharged. 
The gentleman we had saved pressed 
my hand with fervor, and Marble’s too; 
saying that we must not quit him—that 
we must go home with him. To this we 
consented readily enough, thinking we 
might still be of use. As we all walked 
toward one of the more private entrances 


_- selves, we went into Norfolk Street. 


— 


. the park, I had an opportunity of ob- 
serving the people we had served. They 
were very respectabie in appearance ; but 
I knew enough of the world to see that 
they belonged to what is called the middle 
class in England. I thought the man 
might be a soldier; while the two females 
had an air of great respectability, though 
not in the least of fashion. The girl ap- 
peared to be nearly as old as myself, and 
was decidedly pretty. 
an adventure! I had saved the life of a 
damsel of seventeen, and had only to fall 
in love to become the hero of a romance. 

At the gate the gentleman stopped a 
hackney-coach, put the females in, and 
desired us to follow. But to this we would 
not consent, both being wet, and Marble 
particularly so. After short parley, he 
gave us an address in Norfolk Street, 


- Strand; and we promised to stop there on 


our way back to the ship. Instead of fol- 
lowing the carriage, however, we made 
our way on foot into the Strand, where 
we found an eating-house, turned in and 
ate a hearty dinner each, the chief mate 
resorting tc some brandy in order to pre- 
vent his taking cold. On what principle 
this is done, I cannot explain, though I 
know it is often practiced, and in all quar- 
ters of the world. 

As soon as we had dined and dried our- 
We 
had been told to ask for Major Merton, 
and this we did. The house was one of 
those plain lodging-houses, of which most 
of that part of the town is composed ; 
and we found the major and his family in 
the occupation of the first floor, a mark 
of gentility on which some stress is laid in 
England. It was plain enough, however, 


to see that these people were not rolling 


in that splendor of which we had just seen 
so much in the park. 

‘‘T can trace the readiness and gallantry 
of the English tar in your conduct,’’ ob- 
served the major, after he had given us 
both quite as warm a reception as circum- 
stances required, at the same time taking 
out his pocket-book, and turning over 
some bank-notes. ‘‘I wish, for your 
sakes, I was better able than I am to 
reward you for what you have done; but 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE, 


Here, then, was | 


317 


twenty pounds is all I can now offer. At 
some other time circumstances may place 
it in my power to give further and better 
proofs of my gratitude.’’ 

As this was said, the major held two 
ten-pound notes toward Marble, doubt- 
less intending that I should receive one 
of them as a fair division of the spoils. 
Now, according to all theory, and the es- 
tablished opinion of the Christian world, 
America is the avaricious country; the 
land, of all others, in which men are the 
most greedy of gain; in which human 
beings respect gold more, and themselves 
less, than in any other portion of this 
globe. Inever dispute anything that is 
settled by the common consent of my fel- 
low-creatures, for the simple reason that 
I know the decision must be against me ; 
so I will concede that money is the great 
end of American life—that there is little 
else to live for in the great model repub- 
lic. Politics have fallen into such hands 
that office will not even give social sta- 
tion; the people are omnipotent, it is. 
true ; but, though they can make a gov- 
ernor, they cannot make gentlemen and 
ladies; even kings are sometimes puzzled 
to do that; literature, arms, arts, and 
fame of all sorts are unattainable in their 
rewards among us, as in other nations, 
leaving the puissant dollar: in its undis- 
turbed ascendency ; still, asa rule, twenty 
Europeans can be bought with two ten- 
pound Bank of England notes much eas- 
ier than two Americans. I leave others 
to explain the phenomenon; I only speak 
of the fact. 

Marble listened to the major’s speech 
with great attention and respect, fumb- 
ling in his pocket for his tobacco-box the 
whole time. The box was opened just as 
the major ended, and even I began to be 
afraid that the well-known cupidity of 
Kennebunk was about to give way before 
the temptation, and the notes were to be 
stowed alongside of the tobacco ; but I 
was mistaken. Deliberately helping him- 
self to a quid, the chief mate shut the box 
again, and then he made his reply. 

‘‘Quite ginerous in you, major,’ he 
said, ‘‘and all ship-shape and right. I 
like to see things done just in that way. 


318 


Put up the money ; we thank you as much 
as if we could take it, and that squares 
all accounts. I would just mention, how- 
ever, to prevent mistakes, as the other 
idee might get us impressed, that this 
young man and I are both born Ameri- 
cans—he from up the Hudson somewhere 
and I from York city itself, though edi- 
cated down East.’’ 

«« Americans !’’ resumed the major, 
drawing himself up a little stiffly; ‘‘then 
you, young man,’’ turning to me, and 
holding out the notes, of which he now 
seemed as anxious to be rid, as I had 
previously fancied he was sorry to see go 
—‘*you will do me the favor to accept of 
this small token of my gratitude.’’ 

‘“It is quite impossible, sir,’? I an- 
swered, respectfully. ‘‘ We are not ex- 
actly what we seem, and you are probably 
deceived by our roundabouts; but we are 
the first and second officers of a letter-of- 
marque.”’ 

At the word “ officers,”’ the major drew 
back his hand, and hastily apologized. 
He did not understand us even then, I 
could plainly see; but he had sufficient 
sagacity to understand that his money 
would not be accepted. We were invited 
to sit down, and the conversation con- 
tinued. 

‘« Master Miles, there,’’ resumed Marble, 
‘‘has an estate, a place called Clawbonny, 
somewhere up the Hudson; and he has no 
business to be sailing about the world in 
jacket and trousers, when he ought to be 
studying law, or trying his hand at col- 
lege. But as the old cock crows, the 
young *un l’arns; his father was a sailor 
before him, and I suppose that’s the 
reason on’t.’’ 

This announcement of my position 
ashore did me no harm, and I could see 
a change in the deportment of the whole 
family—not that it had ever treated me 
haughtily, or even coldly; but it now re- 
garded me aS more on a level with itself. 
We remained an hour with the Mertons, 
and I promised to repeat the call before 
we sailed. This I did a dozen times, at 
least; and the major, finding, I suppose, 
that he had a tolerably well - educated 
youth to deal with, was of great service 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


in putting me in a better way of seeing 
London. I went to both theaters with 
the family, taking care to appear in a 
well-made suit of London clothes, in 
which I made quite as respectable a figure 
as most of the young men I saw in the 
streets. Even Emily smiled when she 
first saw me in my long togs, and I 
thought she blushed. She was a pretty 
creature ; gentle and mild in her ordinary 
deportment, but full of fire and spirit at 
the bottom, as I could see by her light- 
blue English eye. Then she had been well 
educated ; and in my young ignorance of 
life, I fancied she knew more than any 
girl of seventeen I had ever met with. 
Grace and Lucy were both clever, and 
had been carefully taught by Mr. Har- 
dinge; but the good divine could not give 
two girls, in the provincial retirement of 
America, the cultivation and accomplish- 
ments that were within the reach of even 
moderate means in England. To me, 
Emily Merton seemed a marvel in the 
way of attainments; and I often felt 
ashamed of myself, as I sat at her side, 
listening to the natural and easy manner 
in which she alluded to things, of which I 
then heard for the first time. 


CHAPTER XI.. 


* Boatswain ! ” 
‘“* Here, master: what cheer ? ”’ 
‘Good: speak to the marines; fall to ’t 
Yarely, or we run ourselves aground: 
bestir, bestir.’>—TEMPEST. 


As Captain Williams wished to show me 
some favor for the manner in which I had 
taken care of the brig, he allowed me as 
much time ashore as I asked for. I might 
never see London again ; and, understand- 
ing I had fallen into good company, he 
threw no obstacle in the way of my profit- 
ing by it. So careful was he, indeed, as 
to get one of the consul’s clerks to ascer- 
tain who the Mertons were, lest I should 
become the dupe of the thousands of spe- 


cious rogues with which London abounds. — 


The report was favorable, giving us to 
understand that the major had been much 
employed in the West Indies, where he 


“m4 
iil of 


still held a moderately lucrative, semi- 
military appointment, being then in En- 
gland to settle certain long and vexatious 
accounts, as well as to take Kmily, his 
only child, from school. He was expect- 
ed to return to the old, or some other 
post, in the course of a few months. A 
portion of this I gleaned from Emily her- 
self, and it was all very fairly corrobo- 
rated by the account of the consul’s clerk. 


There was no doubt that the Mertons | 


were persons of respectable position ; 
without having any claims, however, to 
be placed very high. From the major, 
moreover, I learned he had some Ameri- 
can connections, his father having mar- 
_ ried in Boston. 

For my part, 1 had quite as much rea- 
son to rejoice at the chance which threw 
me in the way of the Mertons, as they 
had. If I was instrumental in saving 
their lives, as was undeniably the case, 
they taught me more of the world, in the 
ordinary social sense of the phrase, than 
I had learned in all my previous life. lL 
make no pretensions to having seen Lon- 
don society ; that lay far beyond the reach 
of Major Merton himself, who was born 
the son of a merchant, when merchants 
occupied a much lower position in the En- 
elish social scale than they do to-day, and 
had to look to a patron for most of his 
own advancement.’ But he was a gentle- 
man ; maintained the notions, sentiments, 
and habits of the caste; and was properly 
conscious of my having saved his life when 
it was in great jeopardy. As for Emily 
Merton, she got to converse with me with 
the freedom of a friend; and very pleas- 
ant it was to hear pretty thoughts ex- 
pressed in pretty language, and from 
pretty lips. I could perceive that she 
thought me a little rustic and provincial ; 
but I had not been all the way to Canton 
to be browbeaten by a cockney girl, how- 
ever clever and handsome. On the whole 
—and I say it without vanity at this late 
day—I think the impression left behind 
me, among these good people, was favor- 
able. Perhaps Clawbonny was not with- 
out its influence; but, when I paid my 
last visit, even Emily looked sorrowful, 
and her mother was pleased to say they 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


319 


should all miss me much. The major 
made me promise to hunt him up, should 
Lever be in Jamaica, or Bombay ; for one 
of which places he expected to sail him- 
self, with his wife and daughter, in the 
course of a few months. I knew he had 
had one appointment, though he might 
receive another, and hoped everything 
would turn out for the best. 

The Orisis sailed on her day; and she 
went to sea from the Downs, a week later, 
with a smacking southerly wind. Our 
Philadelphians turned out a noble set of 
fellows ; and we had the happiness of 
beating an English sloop-of-war, just as 
we got clear of the Channel, in a fair 
trial of speed. To lessen our pride a little, 
a two-decker that was going to the Med- 
iterranean treated us exactly in the same 
manner, only three days later. What 
made this last affair more mortifying, 
was the fact that Marble had just satis- 
fied himself, and all hands, that a sloop- 
of-war, being the fastest description of 
vessel, and we having got the better of 
one of them, it might be fairly inferred 
we could out-sail the whole British navy. 
I endeavored to console him by reminding 
him that “‘the race was not always to the 
swift.’? He growled out some sort of an 
answer, denouncing all sayings, and de- 
siring to know out of what book I had 
picked up that nonsense. 

I have no intention of dwelling on every 
little incident that occurred on the long 
road we were now traveling. We touched 
at Madeira, and landed an English family 
that went there for the benefit of an in- 
valid; got some fruit, fresh meat, and 
vegetables, and sailed again. Our next 
stopping place was Rio, whither we went 
for letters from home, the captain being 
taught to expect them. The ship’s let- 
ters were received, and they were filled 
with eulogiums on our good conduct, hav- 
ing been written after the arrival of la 
Dame de Nantes ; but great was my dis- 
appointment at finding there was not 
even a scrawl for myself. 

Our stay at Rio was snort, and we left 
port with a favorable slant of wind, run- 
ning as far south as 50° in a very short 
time. As we drew near to the southern 


320 WORKS 


extremity of the American continent, how- 
ever, we met with heavy weather and foul 
winds. We were now in the month that 
corresponds to November in the northern 
hemisphere, and had to double the Horn 
at that unpropitious season of the year, 
going westward. There is no part of the 
world of which navigators have given ac- 
counts so conflicting, as of this celebrated 
passage. Hach man appears to have de- 
scribed it as he found it, himself, while no 
two seem to have found it exactly alike. 
Ido not remember to have ever heard of 
calms off Cape Horn; but light winds are by 
no means uncommon, though tempests are 
undoubtedly the predominant characteris- 
tic. Our captain had already been round 
four times, and he held the opinion that 
the season made no difference, and that it 
was better to keep near the land. We 
shaped our course accordingly for Staten 
Land, intending to pass through the 
straits of Le Maire and hug the Horn as 
close as possible in doubling it. 

We made the Falkland Islands, or West 
Falkland rather, just as the sun rose, one 
morning, bearing a little on our weather- 
quarter, with the wind blowing heavily at 
the eastward. The weather was thick, 
and, what was still worse, there was so 
little day, and no moon, that it was get- 
ting to be ticklish work to be standing for 
a passage as narrow as that we aimed at. 
Marble and I talked the matter over, be- 
tween ourselves, and wished the captain 
could be persuaded to haul up and try to 
go to the eastward of the island, as was 
still possible, with the wind where it was. 
Still, neither of us dared propose it; I, on 
account of my youth, and the chief mate, 
as he said, on account of ‘ the old fellow’s 
obstinacy.” ‘‘He likes to be poking 
about in such places,’? Marble added, 
‘and is never so happy as when he is 
running round the ocean in places where 
it is full of unknown islands, looking for 
sandal wood and béche-la-mar! J’ll war- 
rant you, he’ll give us a famous time of 
it, if he ever gets up on the northwest 
coast.”’ Here the consultation termi- 
nated, we mates believing it wiser to let 
things take their course. 

I confess to having seen the mountains 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


on our weather-quarter disappear, with 
melancholy forebodings. There was little 
hope of getting any observation that day ; 
and to render matters worse, about noon 
the wind began to haul more to the south- 
ward. Asit hauled, it increased in vio- 
lence, until, at midnight, it blew a gale; 
the commencement of such a tempest as I 
had never witnessed in any of my previous 
passages at sea. Asa matter of course, 
sail was reduced as fast as it became 
necessary, until we had brought the ship 
down to a close-reefed main-topsail, ‘and 
fore-topmast staysail, the fore-course, and ° 
the mizzen staysail. This was old-fash- 
ioned canvas; the more recent spencer 
being then unknown. 

Our situation was now far from pleas- 
ant. The tides and currents, in that high 
latitude, run with great velocity; and 
then, at a moment when it was of the 
greatest importance to know precisely 
where the ship was, we were left in the 
painful uncertainty of conjecture, and 
theories that might be very wide of the 
truth. The captain had nerve enough, 
notwithstanding, to keep on the larboad 
tack until daylight, in the hope of getting 
in sight of the mountains of Tierra del . 
Fuego. No one now expected we should 
be able to fetch through the straits; but 
it would be a great relief to obtain a sight 
of the land, as it would enable us to get 
some tolerably accurate notions of our — 
position. Daylight came at length, but it 
brought no certainty. The weather was 
so thick, between a drizzling rain, sea- 
mist, and the spray, that it was seldom 
we could see a league around us, and fre- 
quently not half a mile. Fortunately, the 
general direction of the eastern coast of 
Tierra del Fuego is from northwest to 
southeast, always giving us room to 
wear off-shore, provided we did not unex- 
pectedly get embarrassed in some of the 
many deep indentations of that wild and 
inhospitable shore. 

Captain Williams showed snikal steadi- 
ness in the trying circumstances in which 
we were placed. The ship was just far 
enough south to render it provable she 
could weather Falkland Islands on the 
other tack, could we rely upon the cur- 


“= 
B - 
7 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


rents ; but it would be ticklish work to 
undertake such a thing in the long, in- 
tensely dark nights we had, and thus run 
the risk of finding ourselves on a lee- 
shore. He determined, therefore, to hold 
on as long as possible on the tack we were 
on, expecting to get through another 
night without coming upon the land, every 
hour now giving us the hope that we were 
drawing near to the termination of the 
gale. I presume he felt more emboldened 
to pursue this course, by the circumstance 
that the wind evidently inclined to haul, 


little by little, more to the southward, 


which was not only increasing our chances 
of laying past the islands, but lessened 
the danger from Tierra del Fuego. 

Marble was exceedingly uneasy during 
that second night. He remained on deck 
with me the whole of the morning watch ; 
not that he distrusted my discretion in 
the least, but because he distrusted the 
wind and the land. I never saw him in 
so much concern before, for it was his 
habit to consider himself a timber of the 
ship, that was to sink or swim with the 
craft. 

*«Miles,’’ said he, “you and I know 
something of these ‘bloody currents,’ 
and we know they take a ship one way, 
while she looks as fiercely the other as a 
pig that is dragged aft by thetail. If we 
had run down the 50th degree of longitude, 
now, we might have had plenty of sea- 
room, and been laying past the cape with 
this very wind; but no, the old fellow 
would have had no islands in that case, 
and he never could be happy without half 
a dozen islands to bother him.”’ 

“Had we run down the 50th degree of 
longitude,’’ I answered, ‘‘ we should have 
had twenty degrees to make to get round 
the Horn; whereas, could we only lay 
through the Straits of Le Maire, six or 
eight of those very same degrees would 
carry us clear of everything.’’ 

‘Only lay through the Straits of Le 
Maire, on the 10th November, or, what is 
the same thing in this quarter of the world, 
of May, and with less than nine hours of 
daylight! And such daylight too! Why, 
our Newfoundland fogs, such stuff as I 
used to eat when a youngster and a fisher- 

IV.—11 


321 


man, are high noon to it! Soundings are 
out of the question hereabouts ; and before 
one has hauled in the deep-sea, with all its 
line out, his cut-water may be on a rock. 
This ship is so weatherly and drags ahead 
so fast, that we shall see terra firma be- 
fore any one has a notion of it. The old 
man fancies, because the coast of Fuego 
trends to the northwest, that the land 
will fall away from us as fast as we draw 
toward it. I hope he may live long enough 
to persuade all hands that he is right ! ” 

Marble and I were conversing on the 
forecastle at the time, our eyes turned to 
the westward, for it was scarcely possible 
for him to look in any other direction, 
when he interrupted himself by shouting 
out, ‘‘Hard up with the helm—spring to 
the after-braces, my lads—man mizzen- 
staysail downhaul!’’ This set everybody 
in motion, and the captain and third mate 
were on deck in a minute. The ship fell 
off, as Soon as we got the mizzen-staysail 
in, and the main-topsail touching. Gath- 
ering way fast, as she got the wind more 
aft, her helm threw her stern up, and 
away she went like a top. The fore-top- 
mast staysail-sheet was tended with care, 
and yet the cloth emitted a sound like the 
report of a swivel, when the sail first filled 
on the other tack. We got the starboard 
fore-tack forward, and the larboard sheet 
aft, by two tremendously severe drags, 
the blocks and bolts seeming fairly to 
quiver as they felt the strains. Every- 
thing succeeded, however, and the Crisis 
began to drag off from the coast of Tierra 
del Fuego of a certainty; but to go 
whither, no one could precisely tell. She 
headed up nearly east, the wind playing 
about between south-and-by-east, and 
south-east-and-by-south. On that course 
I own I had now great doubt whether she 
could lay past the Falkland Islands, 
though I felt persuaded we must be a 
long distance from them. There was 
plenty of time before us to take the 
chances of a change. 

As soon as the ship was round, and 
trimmed by the wind on the other tack, 
Captain Williams had a grave conversa- 
tion with the chief mate on the subject of 
his reason for what he had done. Marble 


322 


maintained that he had caught a glimpse 
of the land ahead—‘‘ just as you know I 
did of la Dame de Nantes, Captain Wil- 
liams,’’ he continued ; ‘‘and seeing there 
was no time to be lost, I ordered the helm 
hard up, to wear off shore.’’ I distrusted 
this account, even while it was in the very 
process of coming out of the chief mate’s 
mouth, and, Marble afterward admitted 
to me, quite justly ; but the captain either 
was Satisfied, or thought it prudent to 
seem so. By the best calculations I 
afterward made, I suppose we must have 
been from fifteen to twenty leagues from 
the land when we wore ship ; but as Mar- 
ble said, when he made his private con- 
fession, ‘‘ Madagascar was quite enough 
for me, Miles, without breaking our nose 
on this sea-gull coast; and there may be 
‘bloody currents ’ on this side of the Cape 
of Good Hope,as well as on the other. 
We’ve just got so much of a gale and a 
foul wind to weather, and the ship will do 
both quite as well with her head to the 
eastward, as with her head to the west- 
ward.’’ 

All that day the Criszs stood on the 
starboard tack, dragging through the 
raging waters as it might be by violence ; 
and just as night shut in again, she wore 
round, once more, with her head to the 
westward. So far from abating, the wind 
increased, and toward evening we found it 
necessary to furl our topsail and fore- 
course. Mere rag of a sail as the former 
had been reduced to, with its four reefs 
in, it was a delicate job to roll it up. Neb 
and I stood together on the bunt, and 
never did I exert myself more than on 
that occasion. The foresail, too, was a 
serious matter, but we got both in without 
losing either. Just as the sun set, or as 
night came to increase the darkness of that 
gloomy day, the fore-topmast staysail went 
out of the bolt-rope, with a report that 
was heard all over the ship, disappearing 
in the mist like a cloud driving in the 
heavens. A few minutes later, the miz- 
zen-Staysail was hauled down in order to 
prevent it from traveling the same road. 
The jerks even this low canvas occasion- 
ally gave the ship made her tremble from 
her keel to her trucks. 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


For the first time I now witnessed a 
tempest at sea. Gales, and pretty hard 
ones, I had often seen; but the force of 
the wind on this occasion aS much ex- 
ceeded that in ordinary gales of wind, as 
the force of these had exceeded that of 
a whole-sail breeze. The seas seemed 
crushed, the pressure of the swooping at- 
mosphere, as the currents of the air went 
howling over the surface of the ocean, 
fairly preventing them from rising; or, 
where a mound of water did appear, it 
was scooped up and borne off in spray, as 
the ax dubs inequalities from the log. In 
less than an hour after it began to blow 
the hardest there was no very apparent 
swell—the deep breathing of the ocean is 
never entirely stilled—and the ship was as 
steady as if hove half out, her lower yard- 
arms nearly touching the water, an incli- 
nation at which they remained as steadily 
as if kept there by purchases. A few of 
us were compelled to go as high as the fut- 
tock-shrouds to secure the sails, but higher 
it was impossible to get. I observed that — 
when I thrust out a hand to clutch any- 
thing, it was necessary to make the move- 
ment in such a direction as to allow for 
lee-way, precisely as a boat quarters the 
stream in crossing against a current. In 
ascending it was difficult to keep the feet 
on the ratlines, and in descending it re- 
quired a strong effort to force the body 
down toward the center of gravity. I 
make no doubt, had I groped my way up 
to the cross-trees, and leaped overboard, 
my body would have struck the water 
thirty or forty yards from the ship. A 
marlinspike falling from either top would 
have endangered no one on deck. 

When the day returned, a species of 
lurid, somber light was diffused over the 
watery waste, though nothing was visible 
but the ocean and the ship. Even the sea- 
birds seemed to have taken refuge in the 
caverns of the adjacent coast, none reap- 
pearing with the dawn. The air was full 
of spray, and it was with difficulty that 
the eye could penetrate as far into the 
humid atmosphere as half a mile. All 
hands mustered on deck as a matter of 
course, no one wishing to sleep at a time 
like that. As for us officers, we collected 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


on the forecastle, the spot where danger 
would first make itself apparent, did it 
come from the side of the land. 

It is not easy to make a landsman 
understand the embarrassments of our 
situation. We had had no observations 
for several days, and had been moving 
about by dead reckoning, in a part of the 
ocean where the tides run like a mill-tail, 
with the wind blowing a little hurricane. 
Even now, whenrher bows were half sub- 
merged, and without a stitch of canvas 
exposed, the Crisis drove ahead at the 
rate of three or four knots, luffing as close 
to the wind as if she carried after-sail. 

It was Marble’s opinion that, in such 

smooth water, do all we could, the vessel 
would drive toward the much-dreaded land 
again, between sun and sun of that short 
day, a distance of from thirty to forty 
miles. ‘‘ Nor is this all, Miles,’’ he added 
to me, in an aside; “I no more like this 
‘bloody current,’ than that we had over 
on the other side of the pond, when we 
broke our back on the rocks of Madagas- 
car. You never see aS smooth water as 
this, unless when the wind and current 
are traveling in the same direction.’’ I 
made no reply, but there all four of us, 
the captain and his three mates, stood 
looking anxiously into the vacant mist on 
our leebow, as if we expected every mo- 
ment to behold our homes. A silence of 
ten minutes succeeded, and I was still 
gazing in the same direction, when by a 
sort of mystic rising of the curtain, I 
fancied 1 saw a beach of long extent, with 
a dark-looking waste of low bottom ex- 
tending inland, for a considerable distance. 
The beach did not appear to be distant 
half a knot, while the ship seemed to 
glide along it, as compared with visible 
objects on shore, at a rate of six or eight 
miles the hour. It extended almost in 
a parallel line with our course, too, as 
far as could be seen, both astern and 
ahead. 

_“ What a strange delusion is this!”’ I 
thought to myself, and turned to look at 
my companions, when I found all looking 
one at the other, as if to ask a common 
explanation. . 

*‘There is no mistake here,’’ said Cap- 


323 


tain Williams, quietly. 
gentlemen.’ 

** As true as the gospel,’’ answered Mar- 
ble, with the sort of steadiness despair 
sometimes gives. ‘‘ What is to be done, 
Sir FAG 

‘What can be done, Mr. Marble? We 
have not room to wear, and, of the two, 
there seems, so far as Il can judge, more 
sea-room ahead than astern.’’ 

This was so apparent, there was no dis- 
puting it. We could still see the land, 
looking low, chill, and of the hue of 
November; and we could also perceive 
that ahead, if anything, it fell off a little 
toward the northward, while astern it 
seemingly stretched in a due line with our 
course. That we passed it with great 
velocity, too, was a circumstance that our 
eyes showed us too plainly to admit of any 
mistake. As the ship was still without a 
rag of sail, borne down by the wind as she 
had been for hours, and burying to her 
hawse-holes forward, it was only to a 
racing tide, or current of some sort, that 
we could be indebted for our speed. We 
tried the lead, and got bottom in six 
fathoms ! 

The captain and Marble now held a se- 
rious consultation. That the ship was en- 
tering some sort of an estuary was certain, 
but of what depth, how far favored by a 
holding-ground, or how far without any 
anchorage at all, were facts that defied our 
inquiries. We knew that the land called 
Tierra del Fuego was, in truth, a cluster 
of islands, intersected by various channels 
and passages, into which ships had occa- 
sionally ventured, though their navigation 
had never led to any other results than 
some immaterial discoveries in geography. 
That we were entering one of these pas- 
sages, and under favorable circumstances, 
though so purely accidental, was the com- 
mon belief; and it only remained to look 
out for the best anchorage, while we had 
daylight. Fortunately, as we drove into 
the bay, or passage, or whatever it was, 
the tempest lifted less spray from the 
water, and, owing to this and other 
causes, the atmosphere gradually grew 
clearer. By ten o’clock, we could see 
fully a league, though I can hardly say 


‘That is land, 


324 


that the wind blew less fiercely than be- 
fore. As for sea, there was none, or next 
to none, the water being as smooth as in 
a river. 

The day drew on, and we began to feel 
increased uneasiness at the novelty of our 
situation. Our hope and expectation were 
to find some anchorage; but to obtain 
this it was indispensable also to find a lee. 
As the ship moved forward, we still kept 
the land in view, on our starboard hand, 
but that was a lee, instead of a weather- 
shore; the last alone could give our 
ground-tackle any chance whatever in 
such a tempest. We were drawing grad- 
ually away from this shore, too, which 
trended more northerly, giving us addi- 
tional sea-room. The fact that we were 
in a powerful tide’s way, puzzled us the 
most. There was but one mode of ac- 
counting for the circumstance. Had we 
entered a bay, the current must have been 
less, and it seemed necessary there should 
be some outlet to such a swift accumula- 
tion of water. It was not the mere rising 
of the water, swelling in an estuary, but 
an arrow-like glancing of the element, as 
it shot through a pass. We had a proof 
of this last fact about eleven o’clock, that 
admitted of no dispute. Land was seen 
directly ahead, at that hour, and great 
was the panic it created. A second look, 
_ however, reassured us, the land proving 
to be merely a rocky islet of some six or 
eight acres in extent. We gave it a 
berth, of course, though we examined 
closely for an anchorage near it, as we 
approached. The islet was too low and 
too small to make any lee, nor did we like 
the looks of the holding-ground. The 
notion of anchoring’ there was conse- 
quently abandoned ; but we had now some 
means of noting our progress. The ship 
was kept a little away, in order to give 
this island a berth, and the gale drove 
her through the water at the rate of seven 
or eight knots. This, however, was far 
from being our whole speed, the tide 
sweeping us onward at a furious rate, in 
addition. Even Captain Williams thought 
we must be passing that rock at the rate 
of fifteen knots! | 

It was noon, and there was no abate- 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


ment in the tempest, no change in the cur- 
rent, no means of returning, no chance of 
Stopping; away we were driven, like 
events ruled by fate. The only change 
was the gradual clearing up of the atmos- 
phere, as we receded from the ocean, and 
got further removed from its mists and 
spray. Perhaps the power of the gale 
had, in a small degree, abated by two 
o’clock, and it would have been possible to 
carry some short sail; but, there being 
no sea to injure us, it was unnecessary, and 
the ship continued to drive ahead under 
bare poles. Night was the time to dread. © 

There was now but one opinion among 
us, and that was this; we thought the 
ship had entered one of the passages that | 
intersect Tierra del Fuego, and that there 
was the chance of soon finding a lee, as 
these channels were known to be very ir- 
regular and winding. To runin the night 
Seemed impossible ; nor was it desirable, 
as it was almost certain we should be 
compelled to return by the way we had 
entered, to extricate ourselves from the 
dangers of so intricate a navigation. 
Islands began to appear, moreover, and 
we had indications that the main passage 
itself was beginning to diminish in width. 
Under the circumstances, therefore, it was 
resolved to get everything ready, and to 
let go two anchors as soon as we could 
find a suitable spot. Between the hours of : 
two and four, the ship passed seventeen 
islets, some of them quiet near; but they 
afforded no shelter. At last, and it was 
time, the sun beginning to fall very low, 
as we could see by the waning light, we 
saw an island of some height and size 
ahead, and we hoped it might afford us a 
lee. The tide had changed, too, and that 
was in our favor. Turning to windward, 
however, was out of the question, since 
we could carry no sail, and the night was 
near. Anchor, then, we must, or continue 
to drive onward in the darkness, sheered 
about in all directions by a powerful ad- 
verse current. It is true, this current 
would have been a means of safety, by 
enabling us to haul up from rocks and 
dangers ahead, could we carry any canvas ; 
but it still blew too violently for the last. 
To anchor, then, it was determined. 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


I had never seen so much anxiety in 
Captain Williams’s countenance, as when 
he was approaching the island mentioned. 
There was still light enough to observe its 
outlines and shores, the last appearing 
bold and promising. As the island itself 
may have been a mile in circuit, it made 
a tolerable lee, when close toit. This was 
then our object, and the helm was put to 
starboard as we went slowly past, the 
tide checking our speed. The ship sheered 
into a sort of roadstead—a very wild one it 
was—as soon as she had room. It was 
ticklish work, for no one could tell how 
soon we might hit a rock; but we went 
clear, luffing quite near to the land, where 
we let go both bowers at the same instant. 
The ship’s way had been sufficiently dead- 
ened, by throwing her up as near the wind 
as she could be got, and there was no 
difficulty in snubbing her. The lead gave 
us seven fathoms, and this within pistol- 
shot of the shore. We knew we were 
temporarily safe. The great point was to 
ascertain how the vessel would tend, and 
with how much strain upon her cables. 
To everybody’s delight, it was found we 
were in a moderate eddy, that drew the 
ship’s stern from the island, and allowed 
her to tend to the wind, which still had a 
fair range from her topsail yards to the 
trucks. Lower down, the tempest scuffied 
about, howling and eddying, and whirling 
first to one side, and then to the other, in 
a way to prove how much its headlong 
impetuosity was broken and checked by 
the land. It is not easy to describe the 
relief we felt at these happy chances. It 
was like giving foothold to some wretch 
who thought a descent of the precipice 
was inevitable. 

The ship was found to ride easily by one 
cable, and the hands were sent to the 
windlass to heave up the other anchor, as 
our lead told us we had rocks beneath us, 
and the captain was afraid of the chafing. 
The larboard bower anchor was chatted 
immediately, and there it was left sus- 
pended, with a range of cable overhauled, 
in readiness tolet go at a moment’s notice. 
After this the people were told to get 
their suppers. As for us officers, we had 
other things to think of. The Crisis car- 


320 


ried a small quarter-boat, and this was 
lowered into the water, the third mate 
and myself manned its oars, and away we 
went to carry the captain round the ship, 
in order that he might ascertain the 
soundings, should it be necessary to get 
under way in the night. The examina- 
tion was satisfactory on all points but 
one, that in the holding-ground ; and we 
returned to the vessel, having taken good 
care to trust ourselves in neither the wind - 
nor the current. An anchor-watch was 
set, with a mate on deck, four hours and 
four hours, and all hands turned in. 

I had the morning watch. What oc- 
curred from seven o’clock (the captain 
keeping the dog-watches himself), until 
a few minutes before four, I cannot tell in 
detail, though I understood generally, 
that the wind continued to blow in the 
same quarter, though it gradually dimin- 
ished in violence, getting down to some- 
thing like a mere gale, by midnight. The 
ship rode more easily ; but when the flood 
came in, there was no longer an eddy, the 
current sucking round each side of the 
island in a very unusual manner. About 
ten minutes before the hour when it was 
my regular watch on deck, all hands were 
called ; I ran on deck, and found the ship 
had struck adrift, the cable having parted. 
Marble had got the vessel’s head up to 
the wind, under bare poles as before, and . 
we soon began to heave in the cable. It 
was found that the mischief had been done 
by the rocks, the strands being chafed 
two-thirds through. As soon as the cur- 
rent took the vessel’s hull with force, the 
cable parted. We lost our anchor, of 
course, for there was no possible way of 
getting back to the island at present, or 
until the ebb again made. 

It wanted several hours of day, and the 
captain called a council. He told us, he 
made no doubt that the ship nad got into 
one of the Tierra del Fuego passages, 
guided by Providence; and as he sup- 
posed we must be almost as far south as 
Staten Land, he was of opinion we had 
made an important discovery! Get back 
we could not, so long as the wind held 
where it was, and he was disposed to 
make sail, and push the examination of 


326 


the channel, as far as circumstances would 
allow. Captain Williams had a weakness 
on this point, that was amiable and re- 
spectable perhaps, but which hardly com- 
ported with the objects and prudence of a 
trading shipmaster. We were not sur- 
prised, therefore, at hearing his sugges- 
tion; and, in spite of the danger, curiosity 
added its impulses to our other motives of 
acquiescing. We could not get back as 
the wind then was, and we were disposed 
to move forward. As for the dangers of 
the navigation, they seemed to be lessen- 
ing as we advanced, fewer islands appear- 
ing ahead, and the passage itself grew 
wider. Our course, however, was more 
to the southward, bringing the ship close 
up by the wind once more. 

The morning promised to be lighter 
than we had found the weather for sev- 
eral days, and we even experienced some 
benefit from the moon. The wind, too, 
began to back round to the eastward 
again, aS we approached the dawn; and 
we got the three topsails, close-reefed, the 
fore-course, and a new fore-topmast stay- 
sail,on the ship. At length day appeared, 
and the sun was actually seen struggling 
among dark masses of wild-looking, driv- 
ing clouds. For the first time since we 
entered those narrow waters, we now got 
a good look around us. The land could 
be seen in all directions. 

The passage in which we found the 
Crisis, at sunrise on the morning of the 
second of these adventurous days, was of 
several leagues in width; and bounded, 
especially on the north, by high, pre- 
cipitous mountains, many of which were 
covered with snow. 

The channel was unobstructed; and 
not an island, islet, or rock, was visible. 
No impediment to our proceeding offered, 
and we were still more encouraged to 
push on. The course we were steering 
was about south-southwest, and the cap- 
tain predicted we should come out into 
the ocean to the westward of the Straits 
of Le Maire, and somewhere near the 
cape itself. We should. unquestionably 
make a great discovery! The. wind con- 
tinued to back round, and soon got to be 
abaft the beam. We now shook our reefs 


ber of islands, or islets, we met. 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


out, one after another, and we had whole ~ 
topsails on the vessel by nine o’clock. 
This was carrying hard, it must be 
owned; but the skipper was determined 
to make hay while the sun shone. There 
were a few hours, when I think the ship 
went fifteen knots by the land, being so 
much favored by the current. Little did 
we know the difficulties toward which we 
were rushing! 

Quite early in the day land appeared 
ahead, and Marble began to predict that 
our rope was nearly run out. We were - 
coming to the bottom of a deep bay. Cap- 
tain Williams thought differently ; and 
when he discovered a narrow passage be- 
tween two promontories, he triumphantly 
predicted our near approach to the cape. 
He had seen some such shape to the moun- 
tains inland, in doubling the Horn, and 
the hilltops looked like old acquaintances. 
Unfortunately, we could not see the sun 
at meridian, and got no observation. For 
several hours we ran southwesterly, in a 
passage of no great width ; when we came 
to a sudden bend in our course which led 
us away to the northwest. Here westill 
had the tide with us, and we then all felt 
certain that we had reached a point where 
the ebb must flow in a direction contrary 
to that in which we had found it in the 
other parts of the passage. It followed, 
that we were now half way through to the — 
ocean, though the course we were steering 
predicted a sinuous channel. We were 
certainly not going now toward Cape 
Horn. 

Notwithstanding the difficulties and — 
doubts which beset us, Captain Williams 
packed on the ship, determined to’ get 
ahead as fast as he could, while there was 
light. It no longer blew a gale, and the 
wind was hauling more to the southward 
again. It soon got to be right aft, and 
before sunset it had a little westing in it. 
Fortunately it moderated and we set our 
main-sail and topgallant-sails. We had 
carried a lower and topmast studding- 
sails nearly all day. The worst feature 
in our situation, now, was the vast num- 
The 
shore on each side was mountainous and 
rude, and deep indentations were con- 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


stantly tempting us to turn aside. But, 
rightly judging that the set of the tide 

was a fair index to the true course, the 
captain stood on. 

The night that followed was one of the 
most anxious I ever passed. We were 
tempted to anchor a dozen times, in some 
of the different bays, of which we passed 
twenty ; but could not make up our minds 
to risk another cable. We met the flood 
a little after sunset, and got rid of it be- 
fore morning. But the wind kept hauling, 
and at last it brought us fairly on a taut 
bowline ; under the topgallant-sails, how- 
ever. We had come too far to recede, 
or now would have been the time to turn 
round and retrace our steps. But we 
hoped every moment to reach some incli- 
nation south, again, that would carry us 
into the open sea. We ran a vast many 
chances of shipwreck, passing frightfully 
near several reefs; but the same good 
Providenee which had so far protected 
us, carried us clear. Never was I so re- 
joiced as when I saw day returning. 

We had the young ebb, and a scant 

wind, when the sun rose next day. It 
was a brilliant morning, however, and 
everybody predicted an observation at 
noon. The channel was full of islands, 
still, and other dangers were not want- 
ing; but, as we could see our way, we got 
through them all safely. At length our 
course became embarrassed, so many 
large islands, with passages between 
them, offering on different sides. One 
headland, however, lay before us; and, 

the ship promising to weather it, we held 
on our way. It was just ten o’clock as 
we approached this cape, and we found a 
passage westward that actually led into 
the ocean! All hands gave three cheers 
as we became certain of this fact, the ship 
tacking as soon as far enough ahead, and 
setting seaward famously with the tide. 

Captain Williams now told us to get our 
quadrants, for the heavens were cloudless, 
and we should have a horizon in time for 
the sun. He was anxious to get the lati- 
tude of our discovery. Sure enough, it so 
fell out, and we prepared to observe ; 
some predicting one parallel, some an- 
other. As for the skipper himself, he 


327 


said he thought we were still to the east- 
ward of the cape; but he felt confident 
that we had come out to the westward of 
Le Maire. Marble was silent; but he had 
observed, and made his calculations, be- 
fore either of the others had commenced 
the last. Isaw him scratch his head, and 
go to the chart which lay on the compan- 
ion-way. Then I heard him shout— 

‘“‘In the Pacific, by St. Kennebunk ! ’’— 
he always swore by this pious individual 
when excited. ‘‘ We have come through 
the Straits of Magellan without knowing 
it !’’ 


CHAPTER XII. 


“Sound trumpets, ho!—weigh anchor— 
loosen sail— 
The seaward-flying banners chide delay ; 
As if ’twere heaven that breathes this 
kindly gale, ; 
Our life-bark beneath it speeds away.” 
—PINENEY. 


THE stout ship Crisis had, like certain 
persons, done a good thing purely by 
chance. Had her exploit happened in the 
year 1519, instead of that of 1800, the re- 
nowned passage we had just escaped from 
would have been called the Crisis Straits, 
a better name than the mongrel appella- 
tion it now bears, which is neither English 
nor Portuguese. The ship had been lost, 
like a man in the woods, and came nearer 
home than those in her could have at all 
expected. The ‘bloody currents”? had 
been at the bottom of the mistake, though 
this time they did good, instead of harm. 
Any one who has been thoroughly lost on 
a heath, or in a forest, or even in a town, 
can comprehend how the head gets turned 
on such occasions, and will understand 
the manner in which we had mystified 
ourselves. 

I shall remember the feelings of delight 
with which I looked around me, as the 
ship passed out into the open ocean, to 
my dying day. There lay the vast Pacifie, 
its long, regular waves rolling in toward 
the coast, in mountain-like ridges, it is 
true, but under a radiant sun, and in a 
bright atmosphere. Everybody was 
cheered by the view, and never did order 


328 


sound more pleasant in my ears, than 
when the captain called out in a cheerful 
voice ‘“‘to man _ the weather - braces.’’ 
This command was given the instant it 
was prudent; and the ship went foaming 
past the last cape, with the speed of a 
courser. Studding-sails were then set, 
and, when the sun was dipping, we had a 
good offing, were driving to the north- 
ward under everything we could carry, 
and had a fair prospect of an excellent 
run from the neighborhood of Tierra del 
Fuego and its stormy seas. 

It fs not my intention to dwell on our 
passage along the western coast of South 
America. A voyage to the Pacific was a 
very different thing in the year 1800, how- 
ever, from what it is to-day. The power 
of Spain was then completely in the ascend- 
ant, intercourse with any nation but the 
mother country being strictly prohibited. 
It is true, a species of commerce, that was 
called the “forced trade on the Spanish 
Main,’’ existed under that code of elastic 
morals which adapts the maxim of “‘ your 
purse or your life’? to modern diplomacy 
as well as to the habits of the highway- 
man. According to divers masters in the 
art of ethics now flourishing among our- 
selves, more especially in the atmosphere 
of the journals of the commercial commu- 
nities, the people that ‘‘can trade and 
won't trade must be made to trade.” At 
the commencement of the century, your 
mercantile moralists were far less manly 
in the avowal of their sentiments, though 
their practices were in no degree wanting 
in the spirit of our more modern theories. 
Ships were fitted out, armed, and navi- 
gated, on this just principle, quite as con- 
fidently and successfully as if the tongue 
had declared all that the head had con- 
ceived. 

Guarda-costas were the arguments 
used, on the other side of this knotty 
question, by the authorities of Spain ; and 
a very insufficient argument, on the whole, 
did they prove to be. Itisan old saying 
that vice is twice as active as virtue; the 
last sleeping, while the former is hard at 
work. If this be true of things in gen- 
eral, it is thrice true as regards smug- 
glers and custom-house officers. Owing 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


to this circumstance, and sundry other 
causes, it is certain that English and 
American vessels found the means of 
plundering the inhabitants of South Am- 
erica, at the period of which I am writing, 
without having recourse to the no longer 
reputable violence of Dampier, Wood, 
Rogers, or Drake. As I feel bound to 
deal honestly with the reader, whatever 
I may have done by the Spanish laws, I 
shall own that we made one or two calls 
as we proceeded north, shoving ashore 
certain articles purchased in London, and 
taking on board dollars in return for our 
civility. I do not know whether I am 
bound, or not, to apologize for my own 
agency in these irregular transactions— 
regular would be quite as apposite a word 
--for, had I been disposed to murmur, it 
would have done my morals no good, nor 
the smuggling any harm. Captain Wil- 
liams was a silent man, and it was not 
easy to ascertain precisely what he 
thought on the subject of smuggling; 
but, in the way of practice, I never saw 
any reason to doubt that he was a firm 
believer in the doctrine of Free Trade. 
As for Marble, he put me in mind of a 


certain renowned editor of a well-known 


New York journal, who evidently thinks 
that all things in heaven and earth, sun, 
moon, and stars, the void above, and the 
caverns beneath us, the universe, in short, 


was created to furnish materials for news-~ 


paper paragraphs; the worthy mate 
just as confidently believing that coasts, 
bays, inlets, roadsteads, and havens were 
all intended by nature as means to run 
goods ashore wherever the duties or pro- 


hibitions rendered it inconvenient to land — 


them in the more legal mode. Smug- 
gling, in his view of the matter, was 
rather more creditable than the regular 
commerce, since it required greater 
cleverness. 

I shall not dwell on the movements of 
the Crisvs for the five months that suc- 
ceeded her escape from the Straits of 
Magellan. Suffice it to say, that she 
anchored at as many different points on 
the coast ; that all which came up the 
mainhatch, went ashore; and all that 
came over the bulwarks, was passed 


— 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


down into the run. We were chased by 
guarda-costas seven times, escaping from 
them on each occasion with ease; though 
we had three little running fights. I ob- 
served that Captain Williams was desir- 
ous of engaging these emissaries of the 
law as easily as possible, ordering us to 
fire altogether at their spars. I have 
since thought that this moderation pro- 
ceeded from a species of principle that is 
common enough—a certain half-way code 
of right and wrong—which encouraged 
him to smuggle, but which caused him to 
shrink from taking human life. Your 
half-way rogues are the bane of honesty. 
After quitting the Spanish coast, al- 
together, we proceeded north, with the 
laudable intention of converting certain 
quantities of glass beads, inferior jack- 
knives, frying-pans, and other homely 
articles of the same nature, into valu- 
able furs. In a word, we shaped our 
‘course for that district which bids fair to 
set the mother and daughter by the ears, 
one of these days, unless it shall happen 
to be disposed of & la Texas, or, what is 
almost as bad, &@ la Maine, ere long. At 
that time the whole northwest coast was 
unoccupied by white men, and I felt no 
scruples about: trading with the natives 
who presented themselves with their skins 
as soon aS we had anchored, believing 
that they had the best right to the country 
and its products. We passed months in 
this traffic, getting, at every point where 
we stopped, something to pay us for our 
trouble. . 
We went as far north as 53°, and that 
is pretty much all I ever knew of our iast 
position. At the time, I thought we had 
anchored ii a bay on the mainland, but I 
have since been inclined to think it was 
in one of the many islands that line that 
broken coast. We got a very secure 
berth, having been led to it by a native 


_ pilot who boarded us several leagues at 


sea, and who knew enough English to 
_ persuade our captain that he could take 
us to a point where sea-otter skins might 
be had for the asking. Nor did the man 
deceive us, though a more unpromising- 
_ looking guide never had charge of smug- 
_ gling Christians. He carried us into a 


329 


very small bay, where we found plenty of 
water, capital holding-ground, and a basin 
as smooth as a dock. But one wind—that 
which blew from the northwest—could 
make any impression on it, and the effects 
of even that were much broken by a small 
island that lay abreast of the entrance ; 
leaving good passages, on each side of it, 
out to sea. The basin itself was rather 
small, it is true, but it did well enough 
for a single ship. Its diameter may have 
been three hundred yards, and I never 
saw a sheet of natural water that was so 
near a circle. Into a place like this, the 
reader will imagine, we did not venture 
without taking the proper precautions. 
Marble was sent in first, to reconnoiter 
and sound, and it was on his report that 
Captain Williams ventured to take the 
ship in. 

At that time, ships on the northwest 
coast had to use the greatest precautions 
against the treachery and violence of the 
natives. This rendered the size of our 
haven the subject of distrust; for, lying 
in the middle of it, where we moored, we 
were barely an arrow’s flight from the 
shore, in every direction but that which 
led to the narrow entrance. It was a 
most secure anchorage, aS against the 
dangers of the sea, but a most insecure 
one as against the dangers of the savages. 
This we all felt as soon as our anchors 
were down; but, intending to remain only 
while we bartered for the skins which we 
had been told were ready for the first ship 
that should offer, we trusted to vigilance 
as our safeguard in the interval. 

I never could master the uncouth sounds 
of the still more uncouth savages of that 
distant region. The fellow who carried 
us in had a name of his own, doubtless, 
but, it was not to be pronounced by a 
Christian tongue, and he got the sobriquet 
of the Dipper from us, owing to the man- 
ner in which he ducked at the report of 
our muskets, which had been discharged 
by Marble merely with the intention to 
renew the cartridges. We had hardly 
got into the little basin, before the Dipper 
left us, returning in an hour, however, 
with a canoe loaded to the water’s edge 
with beautiful skins, and accompanied by 


330 


three savages as wild-looking, seemingly 
as fierce, and certainly as avaricious as he 
was himself. These auxiliaries, through 
various little circumstances, were known 
among us that same afternoon, by the 
several appellations of Smudge, Tin-pot, 
and Slit-nose. 

These were not heroic names, of a cer- 
tainty, but their owners had as little of 
the heroic in their appearance as usually 
falls to the lot of man in the savage state. 
I cannot tell the designation of the tribes 
to which these four worthies belonged, 
nor do | know any more of their history 
and pursuits than the few facts which 
came under my own immediate observa- 
tion. I didask some questions of the cap- 
tain, with a view to obtain a few ideas on 
this subject, but all he knew was, that 
these people put a high value on blankets, 
beads, gunpowder, frying-pans, and old 
hoops, and that they set a remarkably 
low price on sea-otter skins, as well as on 
the external coverings of sundry other 
animals. An application to Mr. Marble 
was still less successful, being met by the 
pithy answer that he was ‘‘no natural- 
ist, and knew nothing about these crit- 
ters, or any wild beasts, in general.’’ 
Degraded as the men certainly were, how- 
ever, we thought them quite good enough 
to be anxious to trade with them. Com- 
merce, like misery, sometimes makes a 
man acquainted with strange bed-fellows. 

IT had often seen our own Indians after 
they had become degraded by their inter- 
course with the whites and the use of rum, 
but never had I beheld any beings so low 
in the scale of the human race, as the 
northwestern savages appeared to be. 
They seemed to be the Hottentots of our 
own continent. Still they were not alto- 
gether without the means of commanding 
our respect. As physical men they were 
both active and strong, and there were 
gleams of ferocity about them, that all 
their avarice and art could not conceal. I 
could not discover in their usages, dress, 
or deportment, a single trace of that 
chivalrous honor which forms so great a 
relief to the well-established cruelty of 
the warriors of our own part of the conti- 
nent. Then, these sea-otter dealers had 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


some knowledge of the use of fire-arms, 


and were too well acquainted with the ' 


ships of us civilized men to have any 
superstitious dread of our power. 

The Dipper and his companions sold us 
one hundred and thirty-three sea-otter 
skins the very afternoon we anchored. 
This, of itself, was thought to bea suffi- 
cient reward for the trouble and risk of 
coming into this unknown basin. Both 
parties seemed pleased with the results of 
the trading, and we were given to under- 
stand that, by remaining at anchor, we 
might hope for six or eight times our 
present number of skins. Captain Wil- 
liams was greatly gratified with the suc- 
cess with which he had already met, and 
having found that all the Dipper had 
promised came true, he determined to re- 
main a day or two, in his present berth, 
in order to wait for more bargains. This 
resolution was no sooner communicated 


to the savages than they expressed their 


delight, sending off Tin-pot and Slit-nose 
with the intelligence, while the Dipper 
and Smudge remained in the ship, appar- 
ently on terms of perfect goodfellowship 
with everybody on board. The gentry of 
the northwest coast being flagrant thieves, 
however, all hands had orders to keep a 
good lookout on our two guests. Cap- 
tain Williams expressed his intention to 
flog them soundly, should they be detected 
in any of their usual light-fingered dex- 
terity. 

Marble and myself observed that the 
canoe, in which the messengers left us, did 
not pull out to sea, but that it entered a 
small stream, or creek, that communi- 
cated with the head of the bay. As there 
was no duty on board, we asked the cap- 
tain’s permission to explore this spot; 
and, at the same time, to make a more 
thorough examination of our haven, gen- 
erally. The request being granted, we 
got into the yawl, with four men, all of us 
armed, and set out on our little expedition. 
Smudge, a withered, gray-headed old In- 
dian, with muscles, however, that re- 
sembled whip-cord, was alone on deck, 
when this movement took place. He 
watched our proceedings narrowly, and, 
when he saw us descend into the boat, 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


he very coolly slipped down the ship’s 
side, and took his place in the stern- 
sheets, with as much quiet dignity as if 
he had been captain. Marble was a good 
deal of a ship’s martinet in such matters, 
and he did not more than half like the 
familiarity and impudence of the proced- 
ure: 

«“What say you, Miles?’ he asked, a 
little sharply ; ‘‘shall we take this dried 
orang-otang ashore with us, or shall we 
try to moisten him a little, by throwing 
him overboard ? ”’ 

“Let him go, by all means, Mr. Mar- 
ble. I dare say the man wishes to be of 
use, and he has only a bad manner of 
showing it.’’ 

“Of use! Heis worth no more than 
the carcass of a whale that has been 
stripped of its blubber. Isay, Miles, there 
would be no need of the windlass to heave 
the blanket off this fish !”’ 

This professional witticism put Marble 
in good humor with himself, and he per- 
mitted the fellow to remain. I remember 
the thoughts that passed through my 
mind, as the yawl pulled through the 
creek on that occasion, as well as if it had 
all occurred yesterday. I sat looking at 
the semi-human being who was seated 
opposite, wondering at the dispensation of 
divine Providence which could leave one 
endowed with a portion of the ineffable 
nature of the Deity, in a situation so de- 
graded. I had seen beasts in cages that 
appeared to me to be quite as intelligent, 
and members of the diversified family of 
human caricatures, or of the baboons and 
monkeys, that I thought were quite as 
agreeable objects to the eye. Smudge 
seemed tobe almost without ideas. In his 
bargains, he had trusted entirely to the 
vigilance of the Dipper, whom we sup- 
posed to be some sort of relation ; and the 
articles he received in exchange for his 
skins failed to arouse in his grim, vacant 
countenance the smallest signs of pleas- 
ure. Emotion and he, if they had been ac- 
quainted, now appeared to be utter stran- 


gers to each other; nor was this apathy 


in the least like the well-known stoicism 
of the American Indian, but had the air of 
downright insensibility. Yet this man as- 


33] 


suredly had a soul, a spark of the never 
dying flame that separates man from alx 
the other beings of earth ! 

The basin in which the Criszs lay was 
entirely fringed with forest. The trees 
in most places even overhung the water, 
forming an impenetrable screen to every- 
thing inland, at the season when they were 
in leaf. Nota sign of a habitation of any 
sort was visible; and, as we approached 
the shore, Marble remarked that the 
savages could only resort to the place at 
the moments when they had induced a 
ship to enter, in order to trade with them. 

«No, no!’’? added the mate, turning 
his head in all directions, in order to take 
a complete survey of the bay, “‘ there are 
no wigwams or pappooses hereabouts. 
This is only a trading-post; and, luckily 
for us, it is altogether without custom- 
house officers.’’ 

‘Not without smugglers, I fancy, Mr. 
Marble, if contriving to get other people’s 
property without their knowledge can 
make a smuggler. I never saw a more 
thorough-looking thief than the chap we 
have nicknamed the Dipper. I believe he 
would swallow one of our iron spoons, 
rather than not get it!” 

«« Ay, there’s no mistake about it, ‘Mas- 
ter Mile,’ as Neb calls you. But this fel- 
low here hasn’t brains enough to tell his 
own property from that of another man, 
IT would let him into our bread-lockers, 
without any dread of his knowing enough 
to eat. I never saw such a vacancy ina 
human form ; a down-east idiot would wind 
him up ina trade as handily as a pedler 
sets his wooden clocks in motion.”’ 

Such was Marble’s opinion of the sagac- 
ity of Mr. Smudge, and, to own the truth, 
such, in a great measure, waS my own. 
The men laughed at the remarks—seamen 
are a little apt to laugh at chief mates’ wit 
—and their looks showed how thoroughly 
they coincided with us in opinion. All 
this time the boat had been pushing ahead, 
and it soon reached the mouth of the little 
creek. 

We found the inlet deep, but narrow 
and winding. Like the bay itself, it was 
fringed with trees and bushes, and this in 
a way to render it difficult to get a view 


332 


of anything on the land, more especially 
as the banks were ten or fifteen feet in 
height. Under the circumstances, Marble 
proposed that we should land on both 
sides of the creek, and follow its windings 
on foot, for a short distance, in order to 
get a better opportunity to reconnoiter. 
Our dispositions were soon made. Marble 
and one of the boat’s crew, each armed, 
landed on one side of the inlet, while Neb 
and myself, similarly provided, went 
ashore on the other. The two remaining 
men were ordered to keep abreast of us in 
the boat, in readiness to take us on board 
again, aS soon as required. 

“Leave that Mr. Smudge in the boat, 
Miles,’? Marble called out across the 
creek, as I was about to put foot on the 
ground. I madea sign to that effect to 
the savage, but when I reached the level 
ground on the top of the bank, I perceived 
the fellow was at my elbow. It was so 
difficult to make such a creature under- 
Stand one’s wishes without the aid of 
speech, that, after a fruitless effort or two 
to send him back by means of signs, I 
abandoned the attempt, and moved for- 
ward so as to keep the whole party in the 
desired line. Neb offered to catch the old 
fellow in his arms and to carry him down 
to the yawl; but I thought it more pru- 
dent to avoid anything like violence. We 
proceeded, therefore, accompanied by this 
escort. 

There was nothing, however, to excite 
alarm or awaken distrust. We found our- 
Selves in a virgin forest, with all its wild- 
ness, dampness, gloomy shadows, dead and 
fallen trees, and unequal surface. On my 
side of the creek there was not the small- 
est sign of a footpath, and Marble soon 
called out to say he was equally without 
any evidences of the steps of man. I 
should think we proceeded quite a mile in 
this manner, certain that the inlet would 
be a true guide on our return. At length 
a call from the boat let us know there was 
no longer water .enough to float it, and 
that it could proceed no further. Marble 
and myself descended the banks at the 
Same moment, and were taken in, intend- 
ing to return in the yawl. Smudge glided 
back to his old place with his former silence. 


WORKS OF FENIMORE OOOPER. 


““T told you to leave the orang-otang 
behind,’? Marble carelessly observed, as 
he took his own seat, after assisting’ in 
getting the boat round with its head tow- 
ard the bay. ‘I would rather have a 
rattlesnake for a pet than such a cub.” 

“It is easier said than done, sir. Mas 


ter Smudge stuck to me as close as a 


leech.’’ 

‘“’The fellow seems all the better for his 
walk—I never saw him look half as ami- 
able as he does at this moment.” 

Of course this raised a laugh, and it in- 
duced me to look round. For the first 
time I could detect something like a 
human expression in the countenance of 
Smudgey who seemed to experience some 
sensation a little akin to satisfaction. 

‘“‘T rather think he had taken it intothis 
head we were about to desert the cop- 
pers,” I remarked, ‘‘and fancied he might 
lose his supper. - Now he must see we are 


going back, he probably fancies he will Fx) 


to bed on a full stomach.” 

Marble assented to the probability of 
this conjecture, and the conversation 
changed. It was matter of surprise to us 
that we had met no traces of anything 
like a residence near the creek, not the 
smallest sign of man having been discov- 
ered by either. It was reasonable to ex. 
pect that some traces of an encampment 
at least would have been found. Every- 


body kept a vigilant lookout at the shore | 


as we descended the creek ; but, as on the 
ascent, not even a footprint was detected. 

On reaching the bay, there being still 
several hours of daylight, we made its en- 
tire circuit, finding nowhere any proof of 
the former presence of man. At: length 
Marble proposed pulling to the small 
wooded island, that lay a little without 
the entrance of the haven, suggesting 
that it was possible the savages might 
have something like an encampment there, 
the place being more convenient as a look- 
out into the offing than any point within 
the bay itself. In order to do this it was 
necessary to pass the ship, and we were 
hailed by the captain, who wished to know 
the result of our examinations. As soon 
as he learned our present object, he told 
us to come alongside, intending to accom- 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


pany us to the island in person. On get- 
ting into the boat, which was small and 
a little crowded by the presence of Smudge, 
Captain Williams made a sign for that 
personage to quit the yawl. Hemight as 
well have intimated as much to one of the 
thwarts! Laughing at the savage’s 
stupidity, or obstinacy, we scarce knew 
which to term it, the boat was shoved off, 
and we pulled through the entrance, two 
hundred yards outside perhaps, until our 
keel grated against the low rocks of this 
islet. 

There was no difficulty in landing ; and 
Neb, who preceded the party, soon gave a 
shout, the proof that he had made some 
discovery. Hvery man among us how 
looked to his arms, expecting to meet an 
eneampment of savages ; but we were 
disappointed. All that the negro had 
discovered were the unequivocal traces of 
» former bivouac; and, judging from a 
few of the signs, that of no very recent 
occupation. 
covering quite half of the interior of the 
island; leaving an extensive curtain of 
trees and bushes, however, soas complete- 
ly to conceal the spot from any eyes with- 
out. Most of the trees had been burned 
down, as we at first thought, in order to 
obtain fuel; but further examination 
satisfied us that it had been done as 
much by accident as by design. 

At first nothing was discovered in this 
encampment, which had every appear- 
ance of not having been extensively used 
for years, though the traces of numer- 
ous fires, and the signs of footsteps, and 
a spring in the center, indicated the recent 
occupation, of which I have just spoken. 
A little further scrutiny, however, brought 
to light certain objects that we did not 
note without much wonder and concern. 
Marble made the first discovery. It was 
impossible for seamen to mistake the ob- 
ject, which was the head of a rudder, con- 
taining the tiller-hole, and which might 
have belonged to a vessel of some two 
hundred and fifty or three hundred tons. 
This Set all hands of us at work, and in 
a few minutes we found, scattered about, 
the fragments of plank, top-timbers, floor- 
timbers, and other portions of a ship, 


The traces were extensive, 


333 


more or less burned, and stripped of every 
particle of metal. Even the nails had been 
drawn by means of perseverance and 
labor. Nothing was left but the wood, 
which proved to be live oak, cedar, and 
locust, the proofs that the unfortunate 
craft had been a vessel of some value. 
We wanted no assurance of this, however, 
as none but a northwest trader could well 
have got as high up the coast, and all 
vessels of that class were of the best de- 
scription. Then the locust, a wood un- 
known to the ship-builders of Kurope, 
gave us the nearly certain assurance that 
this doomed craft had been a countryman. 

At first, we were all too much occupied 
with our interesting discovery to bethink 
us of Smudge. At length, I turned to 
observe its effect on the savage. He evi- 
dently noted our proceedings ; but his 
feelings, if the creature had any, were so 
deeply buried beneath the mask of dull- 
ness as completely to foil my penetration. 
He saw us take up fragment after frag- 
ment, examine them, heard us converse 
over them; though in a language he could 
not understand, and saw us throw them 
away, one after another, with seemingly 
equal indifference. At length, he brought 
4, half-burned billet to the captain, and 
held it before his eyes, as if he began to 
feel some interest in our proceedings. It 
proved to be merely a bit of ordinary 
wood, a fragment of one of the beeches 
of the forest that lay near an_ extin- 
guished pile; and the act satisfied us all 
the fellow did not comprehend the reason 
of the interest we betrayed. He clearly 
knew nothing of the strange vessel. 

In walking around this deserted en- 
campment, the traces of a pathway to 
the shore were found. They were too ob- 
vious to be mistaken, and led us to the 
water in the passage opposite to that by 
which the Crisis had been carried in by 
the Dipper, and at a point that was 
not in view from her present anchorage. 
Here we found a sort of landing, and 
many of the heavier pieces of the wreck ; 
such as it had not been thought necessary 
to haul up to the fires, having no metal 
about them. Among. other things of this 
sort, was a portion of the keel, quite 


334 WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


thirty feet long, the keelson bolts, keel- 
son, and floor-timbers all attached. This 
was the only instance in which we dis- 


covered any metal; and this we found, 


only because the fragment was too stron g 
and heavy to be manageable. We looked 
carefully, in all directions, in the hope of 
discovering something that might give us 
an insight into the nature of the disaster 
that had evidently occurred, but, for some 


time, without success. At length I strolled 
to a little distance from the landing, and 
took a seat on a flat stone, which had 
been placed on the living rock that faced 
most of the island, evidently to form a 
resting-place. My seat proved unsteady, 
and in endeavoring to adjust it more to 
my mind, I removed the stone, and dis- 
covered that it rested on a common log- 
slate. This slate was still covered with 
legible writing, and I soon had the whole 
party around me, eager to learn the con- 
tents. The melancholy record was in 
these precise words, viz.:— 


“The American brig Sea Otter, John 
Squires, master, coaxed into this bay, 
June 9th, 1797, and seized by savages on 
the morning of the 11th. Master, second 
mate, and seven of the people killed on the 
spot. Brig gutted first, then hauled up 


here, and burned to the water’s edge for 
David King, first mate, and six 


the iron. 
others, viz., George Lunt, Henry Web- 
ster, Stephen Stimson, and John Harris, 
seamen, Bill Flint, cook, and Peter Doo- 
little, boy, still living, but God only 
knows what is to be our fate. I shall 
put this slate beneath the stone I now sit 
on, in the hope it may one day let our 
friends learn what has happened.”’ 


We looked at each other, astounded. 
Both the captain and Marble remembered 
to have heard that a brig in this trade, 
called the Sea Otter, was missing; and 
here, by a communication that was little 
Short of miraculous, we were let into the 
secret of her disappearance. 

“Coaxed in,’ repeated the captain, 
running his eye over the writing, which 
had been thus singularly preserved, and 
that in a situation where one would think 


it might have been discovered a thousand 
times. ‘ Yes, yes—I now begin to under- 
stand the whole matter. If there were 
any wind, gentlemen, I would go to sea 
this very night.”’ 

“That would be hardly worth our 
while, Captain Williams,”’ the chief mate 
answered, “since we are now on our 
guard, and I feel pretty certain that 
there are no savages in our neighborhood. 
So far, the Dipper and his friends have 
traded with us fairly enough, and it is 
likely they have more skins to dispose of. 


This chap, whom the people have cbrist- — 


ened Smudge, takes matters so coolly, 
that I hardly think he knows anything 
about the Sea Otter, which may have 
been cut off by another gang altogether.”’ 

There was good reason in these re- 


marks, and they had their effect on the cap- 


tain. The latter, however, determined 
to put Smudge to the proof, by show- 
ing him the slate, and otherwise bring- 
ing him under such a cross-examination as 
signs alone could effect. I dare say, an 
indifferent spectator would have laughed 
at witnessing our efforts to confound the 
Indian. We made grimaces, pointed, ex- 
claimed, hallooed, swore, and gesticulated 
in vain. Smudge was as unmoved at it 
all as the fragment of keel to which he 
was confronted. The fellow either did 
not, or would not understand us. 


that “the beast knows nothing of any- 
thing, much less of the Sea Otter.”? As 
for the slate, he did not seem to have 
the smallest notion what such a thing 
meant. 

We returned to the ship, carrying with 
us the slate, and the report of our dis- 
coveries. All hands were called, and the 
captain made usa speech. It was suffi- 
ciently to the point, though it was not in 
the least of the ‘‘ God-like ’”’ character. 
We were told how ships were lost by the 
carelessness of their crews ; reminded we 
were on the northwest coast, where a 
vessel with a few boxes of beads and 
bales of blankets, to say nothing of her 


gunpowder, firearms, and metals, was as. 


valuable as a vessel laden with gold dust 


His. 
Stupidity defied our tests; and Marble Y 
gave the matter up in despair, declaring — 


i 


ou 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


would be in one of our own ports. Vigi- 
lance, while on watch, and obedience to 
the orders of the vessel, in the event of 
an alarm, were the principal things dwelt 
on. By observing these two great requi- 
sites, we should all be safe enough ; 
whereas by disregarding them we should 
probably share the fate of the people of 
the brig, of which we had just discov- 
ered some of the remains. 

I will confess I passed an uncomfortable 
night. An unknown enemy is always a 
formidable enemy; and I would rather 
have fought three guarda-costas at once, 
than lie where we did, in a bay as smooth 
as a looking-glass, surrounded by forests 
as silent as a desert, and ina well-armed 
ship, that was prepared: at all points to 
meet her foes, even to her boarding-net- 
tings. 


Nothing came of it all. The Dipper and 
Smudge eat their supper with the appe- 


tites of injured innocence, and slept like 
tops. If guilty, we all agreed that they 
must be utterly destitute of consciences. 


As for ourselves, we were on the alert 
until near morning, the very moment 


when the danger would probably be the 
greatest, provided there were any at all; 
and then weariness overcame all who were 
not on the lookout and some who were. 


Still, nothing happened. The sun returned 
to us in due season, gilding the tree-tops 


with its beams; our little bay began to 
bask in its glory, and with. the cheerful- 
ness that usually accompanies such a 
scene, vanished most of our apprehensions 
for the moment. A night of reflection 
had quieted our fears, and we all woke up 
next morning, as indifferent to the fate of 
the Sea Otter as was at all decent. 


—— 


CHAPTER XIII. 


“The monarch mind—the mystery of commanding, 
The godlike power—the art Napoleon, 
Of winning, fettering, molding, wielding, banding 
The hearts of millions, till they move as one; 
Thou hast it.’’—HALLECK—RED J ACKET. 


SmupGE and the Dipper behaved admir- 
ably all next day. Beef, pork, and bread 
—those great desiderata of life, which the 


335 


European is apt to say form the primum 
mobile of American existence—seemed to 
engross their thoughts ; and when they 
were not eating, they were busy with 
sleep. At length we grew ashamed of 
watching such mere animals, and turned 
our thoughts to other subjects. We had 
understood the Dipper that eight-and- 
forty hours must elapse before we might 
expect to see any more skins ; and Cap- 
tain Williams, passing from alarm to ex- 
treme security, determined to profit by a 
lovely day, and send down or rather strip 
all three of the topmasts, and pay some 
necessary attention to their rigging. At 
nine o’clock, accordingly, the hands were 
turned-to, and before noon the ship was 
pretty thoroughly en deshabille. We 
sent as little down as possible, keeping 
even the topsail-yards aloft, though with- 
out their lifts or braces, steadying then 
by guys; but the topmasts were lowered 
as far as was found possible, without ab- } 
solutely placing the lower yards on the 
hammock-cloths. In a word, we put the 
ship in a most unmanageable position, - 
without absolutely littering our decks. 
The security of the haven, and the ex- 
treme beauty of the weather, emboldened 
the captain to do this; apprehension of 
every sort appearing to have quite taken 
leave of him. 

The work proceeded merrily. We had 
not only a strong crew, but we had a good 
crew; and our Philadelphians were in 
their element the moment there was a 
question of the rigging. By sunset the 
chafes were examined, and parceled, and 
served anew; and the topmast rigging 
was all got up and put over the mast- 
heads again, and everything was ready to 
sway upon in the morning. But an un- 
commonly active day required a good 
night’s rest; and the people were all 
ordered to turn in, as soon as they had 
supped. The ship was to be left to the 
vigilance of the captain and the three 
mates during the night. 

The anchor watch was set at eight, and 
ran from two hours to two hours. My 
turn commenced at midnight, and was to 
last until two; Marble succeeding me. 
from two until four, when all hands were 


336 


to be called to get our sticks aloft. When 
I turned out at twelve, I found the third 
mate conversing, as well as he could, with 
the Dipper; who, with Smudge, having 
Slept so much of the day, appeared dis- 
posed to pass the night in smoking. ) 

‘* How long have these fellows been on 
deck? *”? Tasked of the third mate as he 
was about to go below. 

** All my watch ; I found them with the 
captain, who passed them over to me for 
company. If that chap, the Dipper, only 
knew anything of a human language, he 
would be something of society ; but Iam 
as tired of making signs to him as I ever 
was with a hard day’s work.’’ 

I was armed, and felt ashamed of mani- 
festing fear of an unarmed man. Then 
the two savages gave no additional cause 
of distrust; the Dipper having taken a 
seat on the windlass, where he was smok- 
ing his pipe with an appearance of phi- 
losophy that would have done credit to the 
gravest-looking baboon. As for Smudge, 
he did not appear to be sufficiently intel- 
lectual to smoke—an occupation that has 
at least the merit of affecting the air of 
wisdom and reflection. I never could dis- 
cover whether your great smokers were 
actually wiser than the rest of the race, 
or not; but, it will be admitted, they 
occasionally seem to be so. It was a pity 
Smudge, did not have recourse to the 
practice, as it might have given the fellow 
an appearance of sometimes cogitating. 
As it was, while his companion was enjoy- 
ing his pipe at the windlass, he kept stroll- 
ing about the deck, much as a pig would 
have wandered in the same place, and 
seemingly with the same object. 

I took charge of the decks with a very 
lively sense of the peculiarity of our situ- 
ation. The security that prevailed on 
board struck me as unnatural; and yet I 
could detect no particular reason for im- 
mediate alarm. I might be thrown over- 
board or murdered by the two savages on 
deck, it was very true; but of what use 
would it be to destroy me, since they could 
not hope to destroy all the rest on board 
without being discovered. The night was 
star-lit, and there was little chance of a 
canoe’s approaching the ship without my 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


seeing it; a circumstance that, of itself, 
in a great measure, removed the danger. 
I passed the first quarter of an hour in 
reflecting on these things; and then, as 
use accustomed me to my situation, I 
began to think less of them and to revert 
to other subjects. 

Clawbonny, Grace, Lucy, and Mr. Har- 
dinge, often rose before my mind’s eye, 
in those distant seas. It was seldom I 
passed a tranquil watch at night without 
revisiting the scenes of my boyhood, and 
wandering through my own fieldseaccom- 
panied by my beloved sister and her. quite 
as well beloved friend. How many hours 
of happiness had I thus passed on the 
trackless wastes of the Pacific and the 
Atlantic, and with how much fidelity 
did memory recall the peculiar graces, 
whether of body or mind, of each of the 
dear girls in particular. Since my recent 
experience in London, Emily Merton would 
occasionally adorn the picture, with her 
more cultivated discourse and more fin- 
ished manner; and yet I do not remem- 
ber to have ever given her more than a 
third place on the scale of my admiration. 

On the present occasion I was soon lost 
in ruminations on the past, and in imagin- 
ing events for the future. I was not par- 
ticularly expert at building castles in the 
air; but what youth of twenty, or maiden 
of sixteen, never reared some sort of a | 
fabric of this nature? These fanciful — 
structures are the results of inexperience 
building with the materials of hope. In 
my most imaginative moments, I could 
even fancy Rupert an industrious, staid 
lawyer, adorning his profession, and ren- 
dering both Lucy.and Grace happy. Be- 
yond this it was not easy for the human 
faculties to conceive. 

Lucy sung sweetly. At times her songs 
fairly haunted me, and for hours I could 
think of nothing but their tender senti- 
ment and their touching melody. I was 
no nightingale myself, though I some- 
times endeavored to hum some one of 
the airs that floated .in my recollection, 
like beautiful visions of the past. This 


night, in particular, my thoughts re- 


curred to one of those songs that told 
of affection and home; and I stood for 


l Ashore. 


—A float anc 


suddenly, and yet with so much skill, that 


I was a helpless prisoner, as it might be, in a single instant.. 


The whole had been done so 


‘my calling out. 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


several minutes leaning over the railing 
forward, humming the tune to myself, 
while I endeavored to recall not only 
the words but the sweet voice that was 
wont to give them so much thrilling 
pathos. I did this sometimes at Claw- 
bonny; and time and again had Lucy 
placed her soft little hand on my mouth, 
as she would laughingly say, ‘‘ Miles, 
Miles, do not spoil so pretty a song! 
You will never succeed with music, so 
work the harder with your Latin.’ 
Sometimes she would steal behind me— 
I fancied I could hear her breathing at 
my shoulder, even as I leaned over the 
rail—and would apply her hand slyly to 
my lips, in her many attempts of this 
nature. So vivid did one of these scenes 
become, that I thought I really felt the 
smooth hand on my mouth, and I was 
actually about to kiss it, when some- 
thing that was smooth enough, certainly, 
but which was very far from being soft, 
passed between my teeth, and I felt it 
drawn so tight as to completely prevent 
At the same moment 
my arms were seized from behind, and 
held as if grasped by a vise. Turning, 
as well as | was able, I found that ras- 
cal Smudge had been breathing within 
an inch of my ear, while he passed the 
gag; and the Dipper was busy in lash- 
ing my arms together behind my back. 
The whole had been done so suddenly, 
and yet with so much skill, that I was 
a helpless prisoner, as it might be, in a 
single instant. 

Resistance being as much out of my 
power as it was to give any alarm, I was 
soon secured, hands and feet, and placed 
carefully in the waist, a little out of the 
way ; for I probably owed my life solely 
to the wish of Smudge to keep me.as his 
slave. From that instant every appear- 


ance of stupidity vanished from this fel- 


low’s countenance and manner, and he be- 
came the moving spirit and I might say 
the soul, of all the proceedings of his com- 
panions. As for myself, there I sat, lashed 


_ to a spar, utterly unable to help myself, 


an unwilling witness of all that followed. 
I felt the imminent danger of our situa- 


tion, but I think I felt the disgrace of | 


337 


having such a surprise occur in my watch, 
more even than the personal risks I ran. 

In the first place, | was disarmed. Then 
the Dipper took a lantern which stood on 
the binnacle, lighted it, and showed it, for 
half a minute, above the taffrail. His 
signal must have been instantly answered, 
for he: soon extinguished the light, and 
moved about the deck, in attentive watch- 
fulness to seize any straggler who might 
happen to come on deck. Little fear of 
that, however, weariness chaining the 
tinen to their berths as closely as if they 
had been bolted down with iron. I now 
expected to see the fellows fill the yawl 
with effects, and run away with them, for, 
as yet, I could not believe that two men 
would have the hardihood to attack such 
a ship’s company as ours. 

I reckoned without my host. It might 
have been ten minutes after I was seized 
that dark-looking figures began to climb | 
the ship’s sides until more than thirty of 
them were on her decks. This was done 
so noiselessly, too, that the most vigilant 
attention on my part gave .no notice of 
their approach, until they stood among 
us. All these men were armed; a few 
with muskets, others with clubs, and 
some with bows and arrows. So faras I 
could discover, each had some sort of a 
knife, and a few had hatchets, or toma- 
hawks. To my great regret, I saw that 
three or four were immediately stationed 
at the companion-way, aft, and as many 
more at the booby-hatch, forward. This 
was effectually commanding the only two 
passages by which the officers and men 
would be likely to ascend, in the event of 
their attempting to come on deck. It is 
true, the mainhatch, as well as that of 
the steerage, was used by day, but both 
had been covered over night, and no one 
would think of using either unless aware 
of the danger that existed on deck. | 

I suffered a good deal both from/ the 
gag and the ropes that bound my limbs, 
and yet I hardly thought of the pain, so 
intense was my curiosity as to what was 
to follow. After the: savages were all on 
board, the first quarter of an hour passed 
in making their dispositions. Smudge— 
the stupid, inanimate, senseless Smudge— 


338 


acting as leader, and manifesting not only 
authority, but readiness and sagacity. 
He placed all his people in ambush, so 
that one appearing from below would not 
at once be apprised of the change that 
had taken place on deck, and thus give 
the savages time to act. After this, an- 
other quarter of an hour passed, during 
which the fall of a pin might almost have 
been heard, so profound was the silence. 
[ shut my eyes in this terrific interval, 
and endeavored to pray. 

«<On deck, here—forward there!’’ said 
a voice, suddenly, that at once I knew to 
be the captain’s. I would have given the 
world to be able to answer, in order to 
warn him of the danger, but this was im- 
possible. I did groan, and I believe the 
captain heard me; for he moved away 
from the cabin door, and called out, ‘‘ Mr. 
_ Wallingford—where have you got to, Mr. 

Wallingford ?’’ He was without his hat, 
having come on deck half-clad, simply to 
ascertain how went the night, and it 
makes me shudder, even now, to write 
about the blow that fell on his unprotected 
skull. It would have felled an ox, and it 
crushed him on the spot. The caution of 
his murderers prevented his falling, how- 
ever, for they did not wish to alarm the 
sleepers below ; though the plash on the 
water that followed could not fail to reach 
ears which took in every sound with the 
avidity of mine. Thus perished Captain 
Williams, a mild, well-meaning man, an 
excellent seaman, and one whose principal 
fault was want of caution. I do not think 
the water was necessary to complete his 
fate, as nothing human could have sur- 
vived such a blow. 

Smudge had been the principal actor in 
this frightful scene ; and as soon as it was 
over, he caused his men to return to their 
ambushes. I now thought the officers and 
men were to be murdered in this manner, 
as. one by one they appeared on deck. It 
would soon be time for Marble to turn out, 
though there was the hope he might not 
unless called, and I could not do this 
office, situated as I was. But I was mis- 
taken. 
deck, the savages pursued a different 
course. Having destroyed the captain, 


Instead of enticing any men on 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


they closed the doors of the companion- 
way, drew over the booby-hatch, and 
adopted the safe expedient of making all 
below prisoners. This was not done alto- 
gether without noise, and the alarm was 
evidently given by the means taken to se- 
cure the fastenings. I heard a rush at 
the cabin doors, which was soon followed 
by one at the booby-hatch ; but Smudge’s 
ingenuity had been sufficient to prevent 
either from being successful. 

As soon as certain that their prisoners 
were safe, the savages came and loosened 
the ropes of my arm sufficiently to put me 
more at my ease. They removed those 
which bound my feet, entirely, and, at the 
same instant, the gag was taken from my 
mouth. I was then led to the companion- 
way, and, by a sign, given to understand 
I might communicate with my friends be- 
low. In the management of all this, L 
found that Smudge, the semi-human, dull, 
animal-seeming Smudge, was at the head. 
I also came to the conclusion that my life 
was to be spared, for a time at least, and 
for some purpose that, as yet, baffled my 
conjectures. I did not call out immedi- 
ately, but waited until I heard a move- 
ment on the ladder, when 1 complied with 
the orders of my captors and masters. 

‘‘Mr. Marble,’”’ I cried, loud enough to 
be heard below, “is that you ?”’ 

“Ay, ay! andis that you, Master Miles?”’ 

«This is I. Be cautious how you act, 
Mr. Marble. 
sion of the upper deck, and I am their pris- 
oner. The people are all below, with a 
strong watch at the fore-scuttle.”’ 

IT heard a long, low whistle within the 
companion-way doors, which it was easy 
enough to interpret into an expression of 
the chief mate’s concern and wonder. 
For myself I saw no use in attempting 


‘concealment, but was resolved to speak 


out fully, even though it might be at the 


risk of betraying some of my feelings to — 


my captors, among whom I thought it 
probable there might be more than one 
who understood something of English. 

‘‘“We miss Captain Williams below, 
here,’’? Marble resumed, after a short de- 
lay. “Do you know anything of his 
movements ? ”” 


The savages are in posses- — 


a 
ee — 


’ x 
— ee SS ee 


= 


= 


o« 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


«Alas! Mr. Marble — poor Captain 
Williams can be of no service to any of us 
now.”’ 

“What of him?’’ was demanded in a 
clear, full voice, and as quick as lightning. 
‘*Let me know at once.”’ 

‘“‘He has been killed by the blow of a 
club, and is thrown overboard.”’ 

A dead silence followed, and it lasted 
near a minute. 

«Then it has fallen to my duty to de- 
cide what is to be done!’’ Marble at 
length exclaimed. ‘‘ Miles, are you at 
liberty ? Dare you say what you think ?”’ 

“‘T am held here by two of the savages, 
whose prisoner I certainly am. Still, Mr. 
Marble, they encourage me to speak; but 
I fear some among them understand what 
we say.”’ 

There was another pause, during which 
the mate was doubtless reflecting on the 
best course to pursue. 

‘¢Harkee, Miles,’’ Marble continued, 
‘‘we know each other and can tell what 
is meant without blabbing. How old are 
you, out there on deck ?”’ 

“Quite thirty years, Mr. Marble—and 
good stout years they are too!” 

‘‘Well provided for, with sulphur and 
the pills, or only with Indian tools, such 
as our boys sometimes play with ? ”’ 

** A little of the first—half a dozen, per- 
haps ; with some of the last, and a plenty 
of carvers.”’ 

An impatient push from the Dipper 
warned me to speak plainer, and satisfied 
me that the fellow could comprehend what 
passed, so long as we confined ourselves 
to a straightforward discourse. This dis- 
covery had the effect to put me still more 
on my guard. 

‘*T understand you, Miles,’’ Marble an- 
swered, in a thoughtful manner; ‘“‘ we 
must beonour guard. Do you think they 
mean to come below ? ”’ 

«‘T see no signs at present; but under- 
standing ’’—emphasizing the word—“ is 
more general than you imagine, and no 
secrets must be told. My advice is, ‘ Mil- 
lions for defense, and not a cent for 
tribute.’ ”’ 

As this last expression was common in 
the mouths of the Americans of the day, 


339 


having been used on the occasion of the 
existing war with Frarice, I felt confident 
it would be understood. Marble made no 
answer, and I was permitted to move from 
the companion-way, and to take a seat on 
the hen-coops. My situation was suffi- . 
ciently remarkable. It was still dark; 
but enough light fell from the stars to per- 
mit me to see all the swarthy and savage 
forms that were gliding about the decks, 
and even to observe something of the ex- 
pression of the countenances of those who, 
from time to time, came near to stare me 
in the face. The last seemed ferociously 
disposed ; but it was evident that a mas- 
ter-spirit held all these wild beings in 
strict subjection; quelling the turbulence 
of their humors, restraining their fierce 
disposition to violence, and giving concert 
and design to all their proceedings. This 
master-spirit was Smudge! Of the fact, 
IT could not doubt; his gestures, his voice, 
his commands, giving movement and 
method to everything that was done. I 
observed that he spoke with authority and 
confidence, though he spoke calmly. He 
was obeyed without any particular marks 
of deference, but he was obeyed implicitly. 
I could also see that the savages consid- 
ered themselves as conquerors; caring 
very little for the men under hatches. 
Nothing material occurred until day 
dawned. Smudge—for so I must continue 
to call this revolting-looking chief, for 
want of his true name—would permit 
nothing to be attempted until the light 
became sufficiently strong to enable him 
to note the proceedings of his followers. 
I subsequently ascertained, too, that he 
waited for reinforcements, a yell being 
raised in the ship, just as the sun ap- 
peared, which was answered from the for- 
est. The last seemed fairly alive with 
savages; nor was it long before canoes | 
issued from the creek, and I counted one 
hundred and seven of these wretches on 
board the ship.. This was their whole 
force, however, no more ever appearing. 
All this time, or for three hours, I had 
no more communication with our own 
people. I was certain, however, that they 
were all together, a junction being easy 
enough, by means of the middle-deck, 


340 WORKS 


which had no other cargo than the light 
articles intended for the northwest trade, 
and by knocking down the forecastle bulk- 
head. There was a sliding board in the 
last, indeed, that would admit of one 
man’s passing at a time, without having 
recourse to this last expedient. I enter- 
tained no doubt that Marble had collected 
all hands below ; and, being in possession 
of plenty of arms, the men having carried 
their muskets and pistols below with them, 
with all the ammunition, he was still ex- 
tremely formidable. 

What course he would pursue, I was 
obliged to conjecture. A sortie would 
have been very hazardous, if practicable 
at all: and it was scarcely practicable, 
after the means taken by Smudge and 
the Dipper to secure the passages. 
Everything, so far as I was concerned, 
was left to conjecture. 

The manner in which my captors 
treated me excited my surprise. As 
soon as it was light, my limbs were re- 
leased, and I was permitted to walk up 
and down the quarter-deck to restore the 
circulation of the blood. <A clot of blood, 
with some fragments of hair, marked 
the spot where poor Captain Williams 
had fallen; and I was allowed to dasha 
bucket of water over the place, in order 
to wash away the revolting signs of the 
murder. For myself, a strange reckless- 
ness had taken the place of concern, and 
I became momentarily indifferent .to my 
fate. I expected to die, and I am now 
ashamed to confess that my feelings took 
a direction toward revenge, rather than 
toward penitence for my past sins. At 
times, | even envied Marble and those be- 
low, who might destroy their enemies at 
a Swoop, by throwing a match into the 
magazine. I felt persuaded, indeed, it 
would come to that before the mate and 
men would submit to be the captives of 
such wretches as were then in possession 
of the deck. Smudge and his associates, 
however, appeared to be perfectly indif- 
ferent to this danger, of the character 
of which they were probably ignorant. 
Their scheme had been very cunningly 
laid ; and, thus far, it was perfectly suc- 
cessful: 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


The sun was fairly up, and the savages 
began to think seriously of securing their 
prize, when the two leaders, Smudge and 
the Dipper, approached me in a manner 
to show that they were on the point of 
commencing operations. The last of these 
men I now discovered had a trifling knowl- 
edge of English, which he had obtained 
from different ships. Still he was a say- 
age, to all intents and purposes, the little 
information thus gleaned serving to ren- 
der his worst propensities more dangerous 
rather than, in any manner, tempering 
them. He now took the lead, parading 
all his men in two lines on the deck, mak- 
ing a significant gesture toward his fin- 
gers, and uttering, with emphasis, the 
word ‘‘count.’’ I did count the wretches, 
making, this time, one hundred and six, 
exclusive of the two leaders. 

“Tell him, down there,’’ growled the 
Dipper, pointing below. 

Icalled for Mr. Marble, and when he had 
reached the companion-way the following 
conversation took place between us: 

“What is it now, Miles, my hearty ?” 
demanded the chief mate. 

‘“‘T am ordered to tell you, sir, that the 
Indians number one hundred and eight, 
having just counted them for this pur- 
pose.”’ ; 

‘‘I wish there were a thousand, as we 
are about to lift the deck from the ship, 
and send them all into the air. Do you 
think they can understand what I say, 
Miles ?”’ 

‘ “The Dipper does, sir, when you speak 
Slow and plain. He has only half a notion 
of what you now mean, asI can see by his 
countenance.”’ 

‘“‘ Does the rascal hear me now ?—is he 
anywhere near the companion-way ?”’ 

“‘ He does, and is—he is standing at this 
moment on the larboard side of the com- 
panion-way, kneeling one knee on the for- | 
ward end of the hen-coop.’’ 

‘* Miles,’’ said Marble, ina doubting sort | 
of a voice. 

“Mr. Marble—I hear what you say.” 

““Suppose—eh—lead through the com- 
panion-way—eh—what would happen to 
you ?”’ 

“‘T should care little for that, sir, as I’ve 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


made up my mind to be murdered. But 
it would do no good just now, and might 
do harm. I will tell them, however, of 
your intention to blow them up, if you 
please; perhaps that may make them a 
little shy.”’ 

Marble assented, and I set about the 
office as well asI could. Most of my com- 
munications had to be made by means of 
signs; but, in the end, I succeeded in 
making the Dipper understand my mean- 
ing. By this man the purport was told to 
Smudge,interms. The old man listened 
with grave attention, but the idea of being 
blown up produced no more effect on him 
than would have been produced by a 
message from home to tell him that his 
chimney was on fire, supposing him to 
have possessed such a civilized instrument 
of comfort. 

That he fully comprehended his friend, 
I could see by the expression of his orang- 
otang-looking countenance. But fear was 
a passion that troubled him very little ; 
and, sooth to say, a man whose time was 
passed in a condition as miserable as that 
in which he habitually dwelt, had no great 
reason to set a very high value on his life. 
Yet these miserable wretches never com- 
mit suicide! That is a relief reserved 
rather for those who have become satiated 
with human enjoyments, nine pampered 
sensualists dying in this mode for one poor 


“wretch whose miseries have driven him to 


despair. 

I was astonished at seeing the intelli- 
gence that gleamed in the baboon-like 
face of Smudge, as he listened to his 
friend’s words. Incredulity was the in- 
tellectual meaning in his eye, while indif- 
ference seemed seated in his whole visage. 

It was evident the threat had made no 
impression, and I managed to let Marble 
understand as much, and that in terms 
which the Dipper could not very well com- 


prehend. I got no answer, a death-like 


stillness reigning below decks, in lieu of 


a the bustle that had so lately been heard 


there. Smudge seemed struck with the 
change, and I observed he was giving 


- orders to two or three of the elder sav- 


ages, apparently to direct a greater degree 
of watchfulness. 


) 


I confess to some. un-| they observed. 


341 


easiness myself, for expectation is an 
unpleasant guest in a scene like that, 
and more especially when accompanied 
by uncertainty. 

Smudge now seemed to think it time to 
commence his operations in earnest. Un- 
der the direction of the Dipper a quantity 
of line was thrown into the yawl, stud- 
ding-halyards, and such other rope of con- 
venient size as could be found in the 
launch, and the boat was towed by two 
or three canoes to the island. Here the 
fellows made what seamen call a ‘‘ guess- 
warp ”’ of their rope, fastening one end to 
a tree, and paying out line as the yawl 
was towed back again to the ship. The 
Dipper’s calculation proved to be suffi- 
ciently accurate, the rope reaching from 
the vessel to the tree. 

As soon as this feat was accomplished, 
and it was done with sufficient readiness, 
though somewhat lubberly, twenty or 
thirty of the savages clapped on the warp 
until they had .tautened it to as great a 
strain as it would bear. After this they 
ceased pulling, and I observed a search 
around the galley in quest of the cook’s 
ax, evidently with a design to cut the 
cables. I thought this a fact worth com- 
municating to Marble, and I resolved to 
do so at the risk of my life. | 

‘«‘The Indians have run a line to the 
island, and are about to cut the cables, 
no doubt intending to warp the ship 
ashore, and that, too, at the very spot 
where they once had the Sea Otter.” 

‘Ay, ay—let them go on; we'll be 
ready for them in time,’’ was the only an- 
swer I received. 

I never knew whether to ascribe the 
apathy the savages manifested to this 
communication, to a wish that the fact 
might be known to the people below, or 
to indifference. They certainly proceeded 
in their movements with just as much 
coolness as if they had the ship all to 
themselves. They had six or eight 
canoes, and parties of them began to 
move round the vessel with precisely the 
same confidence as men would do it in a 
friendly port. What most surprised me 
were the quiet and submission to orders 
At length the ax was 


342 WORKS 


found secreted in the bows of the launch, 
and Marble was apprised of the use to 
which it was immediately applied by the 
heavy blows that fell upon the cables. 

** Miles,”? said the chief mate, “these 
blows go to my heart! Are the black- 
guards really in earnest ? ”’ 

*‘The larboard bower is gone, sir, and 
the blows you now hear are on the star- 
board, which is already half in two—that 
finishes it; the ship now hangs only by 
the warp.”’ 

‘‘Is there any wind, boy ?”’ 

“Not a breath of it in the bay, though 
I can see a little ripple on the water out- 
side.”’ 

“Is it rising or falling water, Miles ? ”’ 

“The ebb is nearly done—they’ll never 
be able to get the ship up on the shelving 
rock where they had the Sea Otter, until 
the water rises ten or twelve feet.”’ 

“Thank God for that! I was afraid 
they might get her on that accursed bed, 
and break her back at once.”’ 

“Is it of any importance to us, Mr. 
Marble? What hope can we have of 
doing anything against such odds, and in 
our circumstances ? ”’ 

“<The odds I care nothing for, boy. My 
lads are screwed up so tight, they’d lick 
the whole northwest if they could only 
get on deck without having their fashion- 
pieces stove in. The circumstances, I al- 
low, must count for a great deal.”’ 

“The ship is moving fast toward the 
island—I see no hope for us, Mr. Marble.”’ 

‘“T say, Miles, it is worth some risk to 
try and save the craft—were it not for 
fear of you, I would have played the 
racals a trick half an hour since.”’ 

“Never mind me, sir—it was my fault 
it has happened, and I ought to suffer for 
it—do what duty and discretion tell you is 
best.”’ 

I waited a minute after this in intense 
expectation, not knowing what was to 
follow, when a report made me fancy for 
an instant some attempt was making to 
blow up the deck. The wails and cries 
that succeeded, however, soon let me into 
the real state of the case. A volley of 
muskets had been fired from the cabin 
windows, and every individual in two 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


canoes that were passing at the time, to | 
the number of eleven, were shot down like 
bullocks. Three were killed dead, and the 
remainder received wounds that promised 
to be mortal. My life would have been 
the instant sacrifice of this act, had it not 
been for the stern authority of Smudge, 
who ordered my assailants off, with a 
manner and tone that produ¢ed immediate 
compliance. It was clear I was reserved 
for some peculiar fate. 

Every man who could, rushed into the 
remaining canoes and the ship’s yawl, in 
order to pick up the killed and wounded, 
as soon as the nature of the calamity was 
known. I watched them from the taffrail, 
and soon ascertained that Marble was doing 
the same from the windows below me. But 
the savages did not dare venture in a line 
with a fire that had proved so fatal, and 
were compelled to wait until the ship had 
moved sufficiently ahead to enable them 
to succor their friends without exposing 
their own lives. As this required some 
distance as well as time, the ship was not 
only left without a canoe or boat of any 
sort, in the water, but with only half her 
assailants on board of her. 'Those who did 
remain, for want of means to attack any 
other enemy, vented their spite on the 
ship, expending all their strength in fran- 
tic efforts on the warp. The result was, 
that while they gave great way to the 
vessel, they finally broke the line. 

I was leaning on the wheel with Smudge 
near me, when this accident occurred. 
The tide was still running ebb and with 
some strength, and the ship was just en- 
tering the narrow passage between the 
island and the point that formed one ter- 
mination of the bay, heading, of course, 
toward the tree to which the warp had 
been secured. It was an impulsive feel- 
ing, rather than any reason, that made 
me give the vessel a sheer with the helm, 
so as to send her directly through the 
passage, instead of letting her strike the 
rocks. I had no eventful hope in so do- 
ing, nor any other motive than the strong 
reluctance I felt to have the good craft 
hit the bottom. Luckily, the Dipper was 
in the canoes, and it was not an easy mat-- 


ter to follow the ship, under the fire from 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 343 


her cabin windows, had he understood the 
case and been disposed todo so. But, like 
all the rest in the canoes, he was busy 
with his wounded friends, who were all 
carried off toward the creek. This left me 
master of the ship’s movements for five 
minutes, and by that time she had drawn 
through the passage, and was actually 
shooting out into the open ocean. 

This was a novel, and in some respects 
an embarrassing situation. It left a 
gleam of hope, but it was a hope with- 
out a direction and almost without an ob- 
ject. I could perceive that none of the 
savages on board had any knowledge 
of the cause of our movement unless 
they might understand the action of the 
tide. They had expected the ship to be 
run ashore at the tree; and here she 
was gliding into the ocean, and was al- 
ready clear of the passage. The effect 
was to produce a panic, and fully one 
half of those who had remained in the 
ship jumped overboard and began to 
swim for the island. I was momentarily 
in hope all would take this course; but 
quite five-and-twenty remained, more 
from necessity than choice, as I afterward 
discovered, for they did not know how to 
swim. Of this number was Smudge, who 
probably still remained to secure his con- 
quest. 

It struck me the moment was favorable, 
and I went to the companion-way and was 
about to remove its fastenings, thinking 


the ship might be recovered during the 


prevalence of the panic. But a -severe 
blow, and a knife gleaming in the hands 
of Smudge, admonished me of the neces- 
sity of greater caution. The affair was 
not yet ended, nor was my captor a man 
as easily disconcerted as I had incautious- 
ly supposed. Unpromising as he seemed, 
this fellow had a spirit that fitted him 
for great achievements, and which, under 
other circumstances, might have made 
him ahero. He taught me the useful les- 
son of not judging of men merely by their 
exteriors. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


‘‘Court.—Brother John Bates, is not that the 
morning which breaks yonder ? 
‘ Bates.—I think it be; but we have no great 
cause to desire the approach of day. 
‘“‘ Will.—We see yonder the beginning of the day; 
but I think we shall never see the end of it.” 
—HENRY V. 


THE ship did not lose her steerage way. 
As soon as past the point of the island a 
gentle southerly breeze was felt, and act- 
ing on the spars and hull it enabled me, 
by putting the helm a little up, to keep 
her head off shore, and thus increase her 
distance from the bay. The set of the 
tide did more for her than the wind, it is 
true, but the two acting in unison carried 
her away from the coast at a rate that 
nearly equaled two knots in the hour. 
This was slow moving, certainly, for a 
vessel in such a strait; but it would re- 
quire fifteen or twenty minutes for the 
canoes to return from the creek, and 
make the circuit of the island by the other 
channel. By that time we should be near 
half a mile at sea. 

Smudge, beyond a question, understood 
that he was in a dilemma, though totally 
ignorant of some of the leading difficul- 
ties of his case. It was plain to me he 
could not comprehend why the ship took 
the direction of the offing, for he had no 
conception of the power of the rudder. 
Our tiller worked below, and it is possi- 
ble this circumstance mystified him ; more 
small vessels in that day managing their 
helms without the aid of the wheel than 
with it. At length the movement of the 
vessel became too palpable to admit of fur- 
ther delay; and this savage approach- 
ed me with a drawn knife, and a manner 
that proved natural affection had not 
been the motive of his previous modera- 
tion. After flourishing his weapon fiercely 
before my eyes, and pressing it most sig- 
nificantly, once or twice, against my 
breast, he made signs for me to cause the 
ship to turn round and re-enter the port. 
I thought my last moment had come, but 
naturally enough pointed to the spars, 
giving my master to understand that the 
vessel was not in her usual trim. I be- 
lieve I was understood as to this part of 


344 WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


. my excuses, it being too apparent that | were placed, and I saw that it would soon 


our masts and yards were not in their 


usual places for the fact to be over- 
looked even by a savage. Smudge, how- 
ever, saw that several of the sails were 
bent, and he pointed to those, growling 
out his threats should I refuse to set them. 
The spanker, in particular, being near 
him, he took hold of it, shook it, and or- 
dered me to loosen it forthwith. 

It is scarcely necessary to say, I obeyed 
this order with secret joy. Casting loose 
the brails, I put the out-hauler in the 
hands of a dozen of the savages, and set 
the example of pulling. In a minute we 
had this sail spread, with the sheet a little 
eased off. I then led a party forward, 
and got the fore and main staysails on the 
ship. To these were added the mizzen 
staysail, the only other piece of canvas we 
could show, until the topmasts were fidded. 
The effect of these four sails, however, was 


to add at least another knot to the way of 


the ship, and to carry her out sooner to a 


point where she felt the full force of the 
light breeze that was blowing from the 
By the.time the four sails 
were set, we were fully a quarter of a mile 
from the island, every instant getting 
more fairly into the true currents of the 


southeast. 


air. 


Smudge watched me with the eyes of a 


hawk. As I had obeyed his own orders 


in making sail, he could not complain of 


that ; but the result evidently disap- 
pointed him. He saw we were still mov- 
ing in the wrong direction, and as yet not 
a Canoe was visible. As for these last, 
_ now the vessel had way on her, I was not 
without hopes of being able to keep them 
exposed to the fire from the cabin win- 
dows, and, finally, of getting rid of them 
by drawing off the land to a distance they 
would not be likely to follow. The Dip- 
. per, however, I was aware, was a bold 
fellow—knew something of vessels—and I 
was determined to give a hint to Marble 
to pick him off, should he come within 
range of his muskets. 

In the meantime the alarm and impa- 
tience of Smudge and his companions very 
Sensibly increased. Five minutes were an 

age, in the circumstances in which they 


be necessary to adopt some new expedient, 
or I might expect to be sacrificed to the 
resentment of these savages. Necessity 
sharpens the wits, and I hit upon a 
scheme which was not entirely without 
the merit of ingenuity. As it was, I sup- 
pose 1 owed my life to the consciousness 
of the savages that they could do nothing 
without me. 

Smudge, with three or four of the fierc- 
est of his companions, had begun again to 
menace me with the knife, making signs, 
at the same time, for me to turn the ship’s 
head toward the land. I asked for a lit- 
tle room, and then describing a long circle 
on the deck, pointing to the four sails we 
had set, and this in a way to tell them 
that under the canvas we carried it would 
be necessary to go a great distance in 
order to turn round. When I had suc- 
ceeded in communicating this idea I forth- 
with set about giving them to understand 
that by getting up the topmasts, and 
making more sail, we might return im- 
mediately. The savages understood me, 
and the explanation appearing reasonable 
to them, they went aside and consulted 
together. As time pressed, it was not 
long before Smudge came to me with 
signs to show him and his party how to 


get the remainder of the sails set. Of | 


course, I was not backward in giving the 
desired information. 

In a few minutes, I had a string of the 
Savages hold of the mast-rope, forward, a 
luff-tackle being applied. 
was ready aloft all we had to do was to 
pull, until, judging by the eye, I thought 
the spar was high enough, when I ran up 
the rigging and clapped in the fid. Hav- 
ing the topmast out of the way, without 
touching any of its rigging, I went down 
on the fore-yard, and loosened the sail. 
This appeared so much like business that 
the savages gave sundry exclamations of 
delight ; and by the time I got on deck, 
they were all ready to applaud me as a 
good fellow. Even Smudge was com- 
pletely mystified; and when I set the 
others at work at the jeer-fall to sway up 
the fore-yard, he was as active as any of 
them. We soon had the yard in its place, 


As everything 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


and I went aloft to secure it, touching the 
braces first so as to fill the sail. 

The reader may rest assured I did not 
hurry myself, now I had things in so fair 
a way. I could perceive that my power 
and importance increased with every foot 
we went from the land ; and the ship steer- 
ing herself under such canvas, the wheel 
being a trifle up, there was no occasion for 
extraordinary exertion on my part. I de- 
termined now to stay aloft. as long as pos- 
sible. The yard was soon secured, and 
then I went up into the top, where I began 
to set up the weather-rigging. Of course, 
nothing was very thoroughly done, though 
sufficiently so for the weather we had. 

From the top I had a good view of the 
offing, and of the coast for leagues. We 
were now quite a mile at sea, and, though 
the.tide was no longer of any use to us, 
we were drawing through the water quite 
at the rate of two knots. I thought that 
the flood had made, and that it took us 
a little on our lee-bow, hawsing us up to 
windward. Just as I had got the last 
lanyard fastened, the canoes began to ap- 
pear, coming round the island by the fur- 
ther passage, ancl promising to overtake 
us in the course of the next twenty min- 
utes. The crisis demanded decision, and 
I determined to get the jib on the ship. 
Accordingly, I was soon on deck. 

Having so much the confidence of the 
savages, who now fancied their return de- 
pended on me, I soon had them at work, 
and we had the stay set up in two or 
three minutes. I then ran out and cast 
off the gaskets, when my boys began to 
hoist at a signalfrom me. Ihave seldom 
been so happy as when I saw that large 
sheet of canvas open to the air. The 
sheet was hauled in and belayed as fast as 
possible, and then it struck me I should 
not have time to do any more before the 
canoes would overtake us. It was my 
wish to communicate with Marble. While 
passing aft, to effect this object, I paused 
a moment to examine the movement of 
the canoes; old Smudge, the whole time, 
expressing his impatience that the ship 
did not turn round. I make no doubt I 
should have been murdered a dozen times, 


had I lives enough, were it not that the 


345 


savages felt how dependent they were on 
me forthe government of the vessel. I 
began to see my importance, and grew 
bold in proportion. 

As for the canoes, I took a look at 
them through a glass. They were about 
half a mile distant, and ceased paddling, 
and were lying close together, seemingly 
in.consultation. I fancied the appearance 
of the ship, under canvas, had alarmed 
them, and that they began to think we 
had regained the vessel, and were getting 
her in sailing condition again, and that it 
might not be prudent to come too near. 
Could I confirm this impression, a great 
point would be gained. Under the pre- 
tense of making more sail, in order to get 
the ship’s head round, a difficulty I had 
to explain to Smudge by means of signs 
some six or eight times, I placed the say- 
ages at the main-topmast mast-rope, and 
told them to drag. This was a task like- 
ly to keep them occupied, and what was | 
more, it kept them all looking forward, 
leaving me affecting to be busied aft. I 
had given Smudge a cigar, too, to put him 
in good humor, and I had also taken the ° 
liberty to ight one for myself. 

Our guns had all been primed, leveled, 
and: had their tompions taken out the 
night before, in readiness to repel any 
assault that might be made. I[ had only 
to remove the apron from the after-gun, 
and it was ready to be discharged. Go- 
ing to the wheel, I put the helm hard up, 
until our broadside bore on the canoes. 
Then glancing along my gun, until I saw 
it had a tolerable range, I clapped the 
cigar to the priming, springing back to 
the wheel, and putting the helm down. 
The explosion produced a general yell 
among the savages, several of whom 
actually leaped into the chains ready 
to go overboard, while Smudge rushed 
toward me, fiercely brandishing his knife. 
I thought my time had come! but per- 
ceiving that the ship was luffing fast, 
I motioned eagerly forward, to draw 
the attention of my assailant in that 
quarter. The vessel was coming-to, and 
Smudge was easily induced to believe it 
was the commencement of turning round. 
The breathing time allowed me to mys- 


346 WORKS 


tify him with a few more signs; after 
which he rejoined his people, showed them 
exultingly the ship still luffing, and, I 
make no doubt, he thought himself, and 
induced the rest to think, that the gun 
had a material agency in producing all 
these apparent changes. As for the ca- 
noes, the grape had whistled so near them 
that they began to paddle back, doubt- 
less under the impression that we were 
again masters of the ship, and had sent 
them this hint to keep aloof. 

Thus far I had succéeded beyond my 
most sanguine expectations; and I began 
to entertain lively hopes of not only sav- 
ing my life, but of recovering the com- 
mand of the vessel. Could I manage to 
set her out of sight of land, my services 
would be so indispensable as almost to in- 
sure success. The coast was very low, 
and a run of six or eight hours would do 
this, provided the vessel’s head could be 
kept in the right direction. The wind, 
moreover, was freshening, and I judged 
that the Crisis had already four knots 
way on her. Less than twenty miles 
would put all the visible coast under 
water. But it was time to say something 
to Marble. With a view to lull distrust, 
I called Smudge to the companion-way, 
in order that he might hear what passed, 
though I felt satisfied, now that the Dip- 
per was out of the ship, not a soul re- 
mained among the savages who could 
understand a syllable of English, or knew 
anything of vessels. The first call brought 
the mate to the door. ‘‘ Well, Miles ; 
what is it? ’’ he asked; ‘“‘ what meant the 
gun, and who fired it? ”’ 

** All right, Mr. Marble. I fired the gun 
to keep off the canoes, and it has had the 
effect I wished.’’ 

““Yes; my head was out of the cabin 
window at the time, for I believed the 
ship was wearing, and thought you had 
given up, and were going back into port. 
I saw the round-shot strike within twenty 
fathoms of the canoes, and as for the 
grape, some of it flew beyond them. Why, 
we are more than half a league from the 
land, boy! Will Smudge stand that much 
longer ?”’ 

I then told Marble precisely how we 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


were situated on deck, the sail we were 
under, the number of savages we had on 
board, and the notion the savages enter- 
tained on the subject of turning the ship 
round. It is not easy to say which list- 
ened with the most attention, Marble or 
Smudge. The latter made frequent gest- 
ures for me to turn the ship toward the 
coast, for by this time she had the wind 
abeam again, and was once more running 
in a straight line. It was necessary, on 
more accounts than one, to adopt some 
immediate remedy for the danger that 
began to press on me anew. Not only 
must Smudge and his associates be paci- 
fied, but, as the ship got into the offing, 
she began to feel the ground-swell, and 
her spars aloft were anything but secure. 
The main topmast was about half-up, and 
it was beginning to surge and move in the 
cap in a way I did not like. It is true, 
there was not much danger yet; but the 
wind was rising, and what was to be done 
ought to be done at once. I was not 
sorry, however, to perceive that five or 
six of the savages, Smudge among the 
number, began to betray signs of sea- 
sickness. J would have given Clawbonny 
at the moment to have had all the rascals 
in rough water ! 

I now endeavored to make Smudge un- 
derstand the necessity of my having 
assistance from below, both to assist in 
turning the vessel, and in getting the 
yards and masts into their places. 
old fellow shook his head and looked grave 
at this. Isawhe was not sick enough yet 
to be indifferent about his life. After a 
time, however, he pronounced the names 
of Neb and Yo, the blacks having attracted ~ 
the attention of the savages, the last being 
the cook. Junderstood him he would suffer 
these two to come to my assistance, pro- 
vided it could be done without endanger- 
ing his own ascendency. Three unarmed 
men could hardly be dangerous to twenty- 
five who were armed ; and then I suspected 
that he fancied the negroes would prove 
allies to himself, in the event of a strug- 
gle, rather than foes. As for Neb, he 
made a fatal mistake; nor was he much 
nearer the truth in regard to Joe—or Yo, 
as he called him—the cook feeling quite as 


The - 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


much for the honor of the American flag 
as the fairest-skinned seaman in the coun- 
try. Itis generally found that the loyalty 
of the negroes is of proof. 

I found means to make Smudge under- 
stand the manner in which these two 
blacks could be got on deck without let- 
ting up the rest. As soon as he fairly 
comprehended the means to be used, he 
cheerfully acquiesced, and I made the 
necessary communication to Marble. A 
rope was sent down over the stern-boat to 
the cabin windows, and Neb took a turn 
round his body; when he was hauled up 
to the gunwale of the boat, into which he 
was dragged by the assistance of the 
savages. The same process was used with 
Joe. ~Before the negroes were permitted 
to go aloft, however, Smudge made a 
brief oration, in which oracular sentences 
were blended with significant gestures, 
and indications of what they were to ex- 
pect in the event of bad behavior. After 
this, I sent the blacks into the main-top, 
and glad enough I thought they were both 
to get there. 

Thus re-enforced, we had the main top- 
mast fidded in a very few minutes. Neb 
was then directed to set up the rigging, 


and to clear away the yard, so it might be 


got into its place. In a word, an hour 
passed in active exertions, at the end of 
which we had everything rove, bent, and 
in its place on the mainmast, from the 
topmast-head to the deck. The topgal- 
lant-mast was lying fore and aft in the 
waist, and could not then be touched ; nor 
was it necessary. I ordered the men to 
loosen both sails, and to overhaul down 
their rigging. In the eyes of Smudge, 
this looked highly promising; and the 
savages gave a yell of delight when they 
saw the topsail fairly filled and drawing. 
IT added the mainsail to the pressure, and 
then the ship began to walk off the coast, 
at a rate that promised all I hoped for. 
It was now necessary for me to stick by 
the wheel, of the uses of which Smudge 
began to obtain some notions. At this 
time, the vessel was more thantwo leagues 
from the island, and objects began to look 
dim along the coast. As for the canoes, 


347 
us any further was quite out of the ques- 
tion. I felt that the crisis was approach- 
ing. 

Smudge and his companions now became 
more and more earnest on the subject of 
turning the ship round. The indistinctness 
of the land began seriously to alarm them, 
and sea-sickness had actually placed four 
of their number flat on the deck. I could 
see that the old fellow himself was a good 
deal affected, though his spirit, and the 
risks he ran, kept him in motion and 
vigilantly on the watch. It was neces- 
sary to seem to do something; and I sent 
the negroes up into the fore-top to get the 
topsail-yard in its place, and the sail set. 
This occupied another hour, before we 
were entirely through, when the land was 
getting nearly awash. As soon as the 
mizzen-topsail was set, | braced sharp up 
and brought the ship close upon the wind. 
This caused the Indians to wilt down like 
flowers under a burning sun, just as I 
expected; there being, by this time, a 
seven-knot breeze, and a smart head-sea 
on. Old Smudge felt that his forces were 
fast deserting him, and he now came to 
me, in a manner that would not be denied, 
and I felt the necessity of doing some- 
thing to appease him. I got the savages 
stationed as well as I could, hauled up the 
mainsail, and put the ship in stays. We 
tacked better than I could have believed 
possible, and when my wild captors saw 
that we were actually moving in the 
direction of the land again, their delight 
was infinite. Their leader was ready to 
hug me; but I avoided this pleasure in 
the best manner I could. As for the con- 
sequences, I had no apprehensions, know- 
ing we'were too far off to have any reason 
to dread the canoes, and being certain it 
was easy enough to avoid them in such a 
breeze. 

Smudge and his companions were less 
on the alert, as soon as they perceived the 
ship was going in the proper direction. 
They probably believed the danger in a 
measure over, and they began to yield a 
little to their physical sufferings. I called 
Neb to the wheel, and leaning over the 
taffrail, I succeeded in getting Marble to a 


they could no longer be seen, and chasing ! cabin window, without alarming Smudge. 


348 


WORKS OL FENIMORE COOPER. 


I then told the mate to get all his forces | on the deck together, the Indian letting 


in the forecastle, having observed that the 
Indians avoided that part of the vessel, on 
account of the heavy plunges she occa- 
sionally made, and possibly because they 
fancied our people were all aft. As soon 
as the plan was understood, I strolled 
forward, looking up at the sails, and 
touching a rope, here and there, like one 
bent on his ordinary duty. The savage 
stationed at the fore-scuttle was as sick 
as a dog, and with streaming eyes, he 
was paying the landsman’s tribute to the 
sea. The hatch was very strong, and it 
was secured simply by its hasp and a bit 
of iron thrust through it. I had only 
to slip my hand down, remove the iron, 
throw open the hatch, when the ships 
company streamed up on deck, Marble 
leading. 

It was not a moment for explanations. 
I saw ata glance that the mate and his 
followers regarded the situation of the 
ship very differently from what I did 
myself. I had now been hours with the 
savages, and attained a little of their 
confidence, and knew how dependent they 
were on myself for their final safety ; all 
of which, ina small degree, disposed me 
to treat them with some of the lenity I 
fancied I had received from them, in my 
own person. But, Marble and the crew 
had been chafing below, like caged lions, 
the whole time, and as I afterward learned, 
had actually taken an unanimous vote to 
blow themselves up, before they would 
permit the Indians to retain the control 
of the vessel. Then poor Captain Wil- 
liams was much beloved forward, and his 
death remained to be avenged. I would 
have said a word in favor of my captors, 
but the first glance I got at the flushed 
face of the mate told me it would be use- 
less. I turned, therefore, to the sick 
savage who had been left as a sentinel 
over the fore-scuttle, to prevent his inter- 
ference. This man was armed with the 
pistols that had been taken from me, and 
he showed a disposition to use them. I 
was too quick in my. motions, however, 
falling upon him so soon as to prevent one 


the pistols fall to meet my grasp. 

As this occurred, I heard the cheers of 
the seamen ; and Marble, shouting out to 
‘“‘revenge Captain Williams,’”’ gave the 
order to charge. I soon had my own fel- 
low perfectly at my mercy, and got him 
so near the end of the jib downhaul, as to 
secure him with a turn or two of that 
rope. The man made little resistance 
after the first onset; and, catching up 
the pistols, I left him, to join in what was 
doing aft. As I lay on the deck, I heard 


| several plunges into the water, and then 


half a dozen of most cruelly crushing 
blows, succeeded. Not a shot was fired 
by either party, though some of our peo- 
ple, who had carried all their arms below 
the night the ship was seized, used their 
pikes with savage freedom. By the time 
I got as far aft asthe main-mast, the ves- 
sel was our own. Nearly half the Indians 
had thrown themselves into the sea; the 
remaining dozen had either been knocked 
in the head like beeves, or were stuck, like 
so many porkers. The dead bodies fol- 
lowed the living into the sea. Old Smudge 
alone remained, at the moment at which I © 
have spoken. : 

The leader of the savages was examin- 
ing the movements of Neb, at the moment 
the shout was raised; and the black, 
abandoning the wheel, threw his arms 
round those of the old man, holding him, 
like a vise. In this situation he was. 
found by Marble and myself, who ap- 
proached at the same instant, one on 
each side of the quarter-deck. | 

“Overboard with the blackguard! ”’ 
called out the excited mate ; ‘‘ overboard 
with him, Neb, like a trooper’s horse ! ”’ 

‘‘Hold,’? I interrupted; ‘spare the 
old wretch, Mr. Marble; he spared me.’’ 

A request from me would, at any mo- 
ment, outweigh an order from the captain 
himself, so far as the black was concerned, 
else Smudge would certainly have gone 
into the ocean, like a bundle of straw. 
Marble had in him a good deal of the in- 
difference to bodily suffering that is gen- 
erated by habit, and, aroused, he was a 


who was not expert with the weapons | dangerous, and sometimes a hard man ; 
from using them. We clinched, and fell| but, in the main, he was not cruel; and 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


then he was always manly. In the short 
struggle which had passed, he had actual- 
ly dropped his pike, to knock an Indian 
down with his fist; bundling the fellow 
through a port without ceremony, ere he 
had time to help himself. But he disdained 
striking Smudge, with such odds against 
him; and he went to the helm, himself, 
bidding Neb secure the prisoner. Glad of 
this little relief to a scene so horrible, I 
ran forward, intending to bring my own 
prisoner aft, and to have the two confined 
tegether below. But I was too late. One 
of the Philadelphians had just got the 
poor wretch’s head and shoulders through 
the bow-port, and I was barely in time to 
see his feet disappear. 

Not a cheer was given for our success. 
When all was over, the men stood gazing 
at each other, stern, frowning, and yet 
with the aspects of those who felt they 
had been, in a manner, disgraced by the 
circumstances which led them to the ne- 
cessity of thus regaining the command of 
their own vessel. As for myself, Iran and 
sprung upon the taffrail to look into the 
ship’s wake. A painful sight met me, 
there! During the minute or two passed 
in the brief struggle, the Crisis had gone 
steadily ahead, like the earth moving in 
its orbit, indifferent to the struggles of the 
nations that are contending on its bosom. 
I could see heads and arms tossing in our 
track for a hundred fathoms, those who 
could not swim struggling to the last to 
preserve their existence. Marble, Smudge, 
and Neb, were all looking in the same 
direction, at that instant. Under an 
impulse I could not control, I ventured 
to suggest that we might yet tack and 
save several of the wretches. 

‘Let them drown, and be d eh 
was the chief mate’s sententious answer. 

‘* No—no—Masser Mile,’’ Neb ventured 
to add, with a remonstrating shake of the 
head, “‘dat will nebber do—no good ebber 
come of Injin. If you don’t drown him, 
he sartain drown you.”’ 

I saw it was idle to remonstrate, and 
by this time one dark spot after another 
began to disappear, as the victims sank 
in the ocean. As for Smudge, his eye was 
riveted on the struggling forms of his fol- 


349 


lowers, in a manner to show that traces 
of human feeling are to be found, in some 
aspect or other, in every condition of life. 
I thought I could detect workings of the 
countenance of this being, indurated as 
his heart had become by a long life of 
savage ferocity, which denoted how keenly 
he felt the sudden destruction that had 
alighted on his tribe. He might have had 
sons and grandsons among those strug- 
gling wretches, on whom he was now gaz- 
ing for the last time. If so, his self-com- 
mand was almost miraculous; for, while I 
could see that he felt, and felt intensely, 
not a sign of weakness escaped him. As 
the last head sunk from view I could see 
him shudder, a suppressed groan escaped 
him, then he turned his face toward the 
bulwarks, and stood immovable as one of 
the pines of his own forests, for a long 
time. J asked Marble’s permission to re- 
lease the old, man’s arms, and the mate 
granted it, though not without growling 
a few curses on him, and on all who had 
been concerned in the late occurrences on 
board the ship. 

There was too much duty to be done, to 
render all secure, to suffer us to waste 
much time in mere sympathy. All the 
topmast rigging, backstays, etc., had to 
be set up afresh, and gangs were sent 
about this duty, forward and aft. The 
blood was washed from the decks, and a 
portion of the crew got along the topgal- 
lant-masts, and pointed them. The top- 
sails were all close reefed, the courses 
hauled up, the spanker and jib taken in, 
and the ship hove-to. It wanted but two 
hours of sunset when Mr. Marble had got 
things to his mind. We had crossed 
royal-yards, and had everything set that 
would draw, from the trucks down. The 
launch was in the water towing astern; 
the ship was then about a mile from the 
southern passage into the bay, toward 
which she was steering with the wind 
very much as it had been since an hour 
after sunrise, though slightly falling. 
Our guns were loose, and the crew was at 
quarters. Even I did not know what the 
new captain intended to do, for he had 
given his orders in the manner of one 
whose mind was too immovably made up 


350 


to admit of consultation. The: larboard 
battery was manned, and orders had been 
given to see the guns on that side leveled 
and ready for firing. As the ship rushed 
past the island, in entering the bay, the 
whole of this broadside was delivered in 
among its bushes and trees. We heard a 
few yells in reply, that satisfied us the 
grape had told, and that Marble had not 
miscalculated the position of some.of his 
enemies, at least. 

When the ship entered the little bay, it 
was with a moderate and steady move- 
ment, the breeze being greatly broken by 
the forests. The main-yard was thrown 
aback, and I was ordered into the launch, 
with its crew armed. A swivel was in the 
bows of the boat, and I pulled into the 
creek in order to ascertain if there were 
any signs of the savages. In entering the 
creek the swivel was discharged accord- 
ing to orders, and’we soon detected proofs 
that we disturbed a bivouac. I now kept 
loading and firing this little piece into the 
bushes, supporting it with occasional vol- 
leys of musketry, until pretty well satis- 
fied that we had swept the shore effectual- 
ly. At the bivouac I found the canoes 
and our own yawl, and what was some 
little revenge for what had happened, I 
also found a pile of no less than six hun- 
dred skins, which had doubtless been 
brought to trade with us, if necessary, 
in order to blind our eyes until the favor- 
able moment for the execution of the con- 
spiracy should offer. I made no scruple 
about confiscating these skins, which were 
taken on board the ship. 

I went next to the island, on which I 
found one man dying with a grape-shot 
wound, and evidence that a considerable 
party had left it, as soon as they felt our 
fire. This party had probably gone out- 
side the island, but it was getting too late 
to follow. On my return I met the ship 
coming out, Captain Marble being deter- 
mined not to trust her inside another 
night. The wind was getting light, and 
the-tides running fiercely in that high lati- 
tude, we were glad to make an offing 
again while there was still day. The suc- 
cess with the skins greatly mollified the 
new captain, who declared to me that 


WORKS OF FENIMORE OOOPER. 


after he had hanged Smudge in sight of 
his own shores, he should ‘ feel some- 
thing like himself again.”’ 

We passed the night under our topsails, 
standing off and on, with the wind steady, 
but light at the southward. Next morn- 
ing, the duty of the ship went on as usual, 
until the men had breakfasted, when he 
stood again into the bay. This time, we 
hove-to so as to get one of the buoys, 
when we dropped the stream, leaving the 
topsails set. We then hove up the anchor, 
securing the range of cable that was bent 
to it. Both of the anchors, and their 
ranges of cable were thus recovered ; the 
ends of the last being entered at the 
hawse-holes, and the pieces spliced. ‘Chis’ 
work may have occupied us four hours; 
after which, the stream anchor was hove 
up, catted and finished. Marble then 
ordered a whip rove at the fore-yardarm. 

I was on the quarter-deck when this 
command was suddenly given. I wished 
to remonstrate, for I had some tolerably 
accurate notions of legality, and the 
rights of persons. Still, I did not like to 
say anything; for Captain Marble’s eye 
and manner were not the least in the tri- 
fling mood, at that instant. The whip 
was soon rove, and the men stood looking 
aft, in silent expectation. | 

“Take that murdering blackguard for- 
ward, fasten his arms behind his back, 
place him on the third gun, and wait for 
orders,’’? added our new captain, sternly. 

No one dared hesitate about obeying | 
these orders, though I could see that one 
or two of the lads disliked the business. 

«Surely,’? I ventured to say, in a low 
voice, “‘you are not in earnest, Mr. 
Marble ! ”’ 

‘““Captain Marble, if you please, Mr. 
Wallingford. I am now master of this 
vessel, and you are her chief mate. I 
intend to hang your friend Smudge as 
an example to the rest of the coast. 
‘These woods are full of eyes at this mo- 
ment; and the sight they’ll presently 
see will do more good than forty mis- 
sionaries, and threescore and ten years 
of preaching. Set the fellow up on the 
gun, men, as I ordered. This is the way 
to generalize with an Indian.’ 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


In a moment, there stood the hapless 
wretch, looking about him with an ex- 
pression that denoted the consciousness 
of danger, though it was not possible he 
could comprehend the precise mode of his 
execution. I went to him, and pressed 


his hand, pointing upward, as much as 


to say his whole trust was now in the 
Great Spirit. The Indian understood me, 
for from that instant he assumed an air 


of dignified composure, like one every | 


way prepared to meet his fate. It is not 
probable, with his habits, that he saw any 
peculiar hardship in his own case; for he 
had, doubtless, sacrificed many a prisoner 
under circumstances of less exasperation 
than that which his own conduct had 
provoked. 

“Let two of the ‘niggers’ take a turn 
with the end of the whip round the chap’s 
neck,’’ said Marble, too dignified to turn 
Jack Ketch in person, and unwilling to 
set any of the white seamen at so un- 
gracious an office. The cook, Joe, and 
another black, soon performed this re- 
volting duty, from the odium of which a 
sailor seldom altogether escapes. 

I now perceived Smudge looking up- 
ward, seeming to comprehend the nature 
of the fate that awaited him. The 
deeply-seated principle within him caused 
a dark shadow to pass over a countenance 
already so gloomy and wrinkled by suf- 
fering and exposure; and he turned his 
look wistfully toward Marble, at whose 
command each order in succession had 
been obeyed. Our new captain caught 
that gaze, and I was, for a single moment, 
in hope he would relent and let the wretch 
go. But Marble had persuaded himself 
he was performing a great act of nautical 
justice ; nor was he aware himself how 
much he was influenced by a feeling al- 
lied to vengeance. — 

“Sway away!’ he called out; and 
Smudge was dangling at the yardarm in 
a few seconds. 

A block of wood could not have been 
more motionless than the body of this sav- 
age, after one quivering shudder of suffer- 
ing had escaped it. There it hung, likea 
jewel-block, and every sign of life was 
soon taken away. In aquarter of an hour, 


351 


aman was sent up, and cutting the rope, 
the body fell, with a sharp plunge, into the 
water, and disappeared. 

At a later day, the account of this 
affair found its way into the newspapers 
at home. A few moralists endeavored to 
throw some doubts over the legality and 
necessity of the proceedings, pretending 
that more evil than good was done to the 
cause of sacred justice by such disregard 
of law and principles; but the feeling of 
trade, and the security of ships when far 
from home, were motives too powerful to 
be put down by the still, quiet remon- 
strances of reason and right. The abuses 
to which such practices would be likely to 
lead, in cases in which one of the parties 
constituted himself the law, the judge, 
and the executioner, were urged in vain 
against the active and ever-stimulating in- 
centive of a love of gold. Still, I knew 
that Marble wished the thing undone 
when it was too late, it being idle to think 
of quieting the suggestions of that monitor 
God has implanted within us, by the 
meretricious and selfish approbation of 
those who judge of right and wrong by 
their own narrow standard of interest. 


CHAPTER XV. 


‘First Lord.—Throca movonsas, cargo, cargo, 
cargo. 
All.—Cargo, cargo, villianda par corbo, cargo. 
Par.—O ! ransome, ransome:—Do not hide mine 
eyes. 
First Sold.—Boskos Thromuldo boskos. 
Par.—I know you are the Muskos’ regiment, 
And I shall lose my life for want of language.”’ 
—ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL. 


THE Crisis was tacked as soon as the 
body of Smudge was cut down, and she 
moved slowly, her crew maintaining a 
melancholy silence, out of the little haven. 
I never witnessed stronger evidence of 
sadness in the evolutions of a vessel; the 
slow and stately departure resembling 
that of mourners leaving the grave on 
which they had just heard the fall of the — 
clod. Marble told me afterward he had 
been disposed to anchor, and remain until 
the body of poor Captain Williams should 
rise, as it probably would within the next 


352 


forty-eight hours; but the dread of a 
necessity of sacrificing more of the natives 
induced him to quit the fatal spot, with- 


out paying the last duties to our worthy | 


old commander. I always regretted we 
did not remain, for I think no Indian 
would have come near us, had we con- 
tinued in the harbor a month. 

It was high noon when the ship once 
more issued into the broad bosom of the 
Pacific. The wind was at southeast, and 
as we drew off from the land, it came 
fresh and steady. About two, having an 
offing of ten or twelve miles, orders were 
issued to set all the larboard studding- 
sails, and we stood to the southward 
and westward under a press of canvas. 
Every one saw in this change a deter- 
mination to quit the coast; nor did we 
regret the measure, for our trade had 
been quite successful, down to the moment 
of the seizure, but could\ hardly be pros- 
perous after what had passed. I had not 
been consulted in the affair at all, but the 
second mate having the watch, I was now 
summoned to the cabin, and let into the 
secret of our future movements. I found 
Marble seated at the cabin table, with 
Captain Williams’s writing-desk open 
before him, and sundry papers under 
examination. 

“‘Take a seat, Mr. Wallingford,”’ said 
the new master, with a dignity and manner 
suited to the occasion. ‘‘ I have just been 
overhauling the old man’s instructions 
from the owners, and find I have done 
right in leaving these hang-gallows ras- 
cals to themselves, and shaping our course 
to the next point of destination. As it is, 
the ship has done surprisingly well. There 
are $67,370 good Spaniards down in the 
run, and that for goods which I see are in- 
voiced at just $26,240 ; and when you con- 
sider that no duties, port-charges, or com- 
missions are to be deducted, but that the 
dollars under our feet are all our own, 
_ without any drawbacks, I call the opera- 
tion a good one. Then that blundering 
through the straits, though it must never 
be talked of in any other light than a bold 
push fora quick passage, did us a wonder- 
ful deal of good, shoving us ahead near a 
month in time. It has put us so much 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


ahead of our calculations, indeed, that I 
would cruise for Frenchmen for five or six 
weeks, were there the least probability 
that one of the Chaps was to the westward 
of the Horn. Such not being the fact, 
however, and there still being a very long 
road before us, | have thought it best to 
push for the next point of destination. 
Read that page of the owners’ ideas, Mr. 
Wallingford, and you will get their ad- 
vice for just such a situation as that in 
which we find ourselves.”’ | 

The passage pointed out by Captain 
Marble was somewhat parenthetical, and 
was simply intended to aid Captain Wil- 
liams, in the event of his not being able 
to accomplish the other objects of his voy- 
age. It hada place in the instructions, 
indeed, solely on account of a suggestion 
of Marble’s himself, the project being one 
of those favorite schemes of the mate, 
that men sometimes maintain through 
thick or thin, until they get to be ruling 
thoughts. On Captain Williams it had 
not weighed a feather ; his intention hayv- 
ing been to proceed to the Sandwich 
Islands for sandal wood, which was the 


course then usually pursued by northwest. 


traders, after quitting the coast. The 
parenthetical project, however, was to 
touch at the last island, procure a few 
divers, and proceed in quest of certain 
islands where it was supposed the pearl 
fishery would succeed. Our ship was al- 
together too large, and every way too 
expensive, to be risked in such an adven- 


ture, and so I told the ex-mate without — 


any scruple. But this fishery was a “ fixed 
idea,’’ a quick road to wealth, in the new 
captain’s mind, and finding it in the in- 
structions, though simply as a contingent 
course, he was inclined to regard it as the 
great object of the voyage. Such it was 


in his eyes, and such it ought to be, as he ~ 


imagined, in those of the owners. 

Marble had excellent qualities in his 
way, but he was not fit to command a 
ship. No man could stow her better, fit 
her better, sail her better, take better 
care of her in heavy weather, or navigate 


her better ; and yet he wanted the judg- — 


ment necessary to manage the property 
that must be committed to his care, and 


" 


q 


. 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


he had no more ideas of commercial thrift 
than if he had never been employed in 
any of the concerns of commerce. This 
was, in truth, the reason he had never 
risen any higher in his profession, the 
mercantile instinct—one of the liveliest 
and most acute to be found in natural 
history—forewarning his different owners 
that he was already in the berth nature 
and art had best qualified him to fill. It 
is wonderful how acute even dull men get 
to be, on the subject of money ! 
I own my judgment, such as it was at 
nineteen, was opposed to the opinion of the 
captain. I could see that the contingency 
contemplated by the instructions had not 
arisen, and that we should be acting more 
in conformity with the wishes of the own- 
ers by proceeding to the Sandwich Islands 
in quest of sandal wood, and thence to 
China, after a cargo of teas. Marble was 
not to be convinced, however, though I 
think my arguments shook him a little. 
What might have been the result, it is 
_ difficult to say, had not chance befriended 
the views of each of us, respectively. It 
is proper to add, that Marble availed him- 
self of this opportunity to promote Tal- 
cott, who was brought into the cabin as 
third mate. I rejoiced greatly in this ad- 
dition to our little circle on the quarter- 
deck, Talcott being a man of education, 
much nearer my own age than the two 
others, and united to me by unusual ties 
since our common adventure in the prize. 
I was not only rejoiced to be able to as- 
sociate with him, but to hear him called 
Mr. Talcott. 
We had a long, but mild passage to the 
Sandwich Islands. This group occupied a 
very different place, in the opinions of the 
world, in the year 1800, from that it fills 
,to-day. Still it has made some small ad- 
' vances in civilization since the time of 
Cook. I am told there are churches, 
taverns, billiard tables, and stone dwell- 
ings in these islands now, which are fast 
turning to the Christian religion, and ob- 
taining the medley of convenience, secur- 
ity, vice, roguery, law, and comfort that 
is known as civilization. It was far differ- 
_ ent then, our reception being by men who 
were but a small degree removed from 

IV .—12 


353 


savages. Among those who first came 
on board us, however, was the master of 
an American brig, belonging to Boston, 
whose vessel had got on a reef, and bilged. 
He intended to remain by the wreck, but 
wished to dispose of a considerable amount 
of sandal wood that was still in his ves- 
sel, and for the safety of which he was 
under great concern, as the first gale of 
wind might scatter it to the winds of the 
ocean. If he could obtain a fresh stock of 
goods to trade on, he proposed remaining 
on the islands until another vessel belong- 
ing to the same owners, which was ex- 
pected in a few months, should arrive, on 
board which vessel he intended to embark 
with everything he could save from the 
wreck, and such wood as he could pur- 
chase in the interim. Captain Marble 
rubbed his hands with delight, when he 
returned from a visit to the wreck, his 
arrangements all completed. 

‘‘Luck is with us, Master Miles,’’ he 
said, “‘and we’ll be off for them pearl 
fisheries next week. I have bought all 
the sandal wood in the wreck, paying in 
trumpery, and at prices only about double 
Indian trade, and we will heave up, and 
carry the ship round to the wreck, and 
begin to take in this afternoon. There is 
capital holding-ground inside the reef, and 
the ship can be safely carried within a 
hundred fathoms of her cargo ! ”’ 

All turned out as Marble had hoped and 
predicted, and the Crisis was back at her 
anchorage in front of the village, which 
is now the city of Honolulu, within the 
week named. We got our supply of hogs, 
and having procured four of the best div- 
ers going, we sailed in quest of Captain 
Marble’s Eldorado of pearls. I was less 
opposed to the scheme than I had been, 
for we were now so much in advance of 
our time, that we could afford to pass a 
few weeks among the islands, Pree 
to sailing for China. Our course was to — 
the southwest, crossing the line in about 
170° west longitude. There was a clear 
sea for more than a fortnight while we 
were near the equator, the ship making 
but little progress. Glad enough was I 
to hear the order given to turn more to 
fhe northward again, for the heat was op- 


354 


pressive, and this was inclining toward 
our route to China. We had been out 
from Owyhee, as it was then usual to 
call the island where Cook was killed— 
Hawaii, as it is called to-day—we had 
been out from this island about a month, 
when Marble came up to me one fine 
moonlight evening, in my watch, rubbing 
his hands, as was his custom when in good- 
humor, and broke out as follows : 

“T’ll tell you what, Miles,”’ he said, 
“vou and I have been salted down by 
Providence for something more than com- 
mon! Just look back at all our advent- 
ures in the last three years, and see what 
they come to. Firstly, there was a ship- 
wreck over here on the coast of Madagas- 
car,” jerking his thumb over a shoulder 
in a manner that was intended to indicate 
about two hundred degrees of longitude, 
that being somewhat near our present 
distance from the place he mentioned, in 
an air-line; “‘ then followed the boat busi- 
ness under the Isle of Bourbon, and the 
affair with the privateer off Guadeloupe. 
Well, as if- that weren’t enough, we ship 
together again in this vessel, and a time 
we had of it with the French letter-of- 
marque. After that, a devil of a passage 
we made of it through the Straits of 
Magellan. Then came the melancholy 
loss of Captain Williams, and all that 
business; after which we got the sandal- 
wood out of the wreck, which I consider 
the luckiest transaction of all.’ 

‘‘T hope you don’t set down the loss of 
Captain Williams among our luck, sir! "g 

‘‘Not I, but the stuff is all logged to- 
gether you know; and in overhauling for 
one idee, in such a mess, a fellow is apt to 
get hold of another. As I was saying, 
we have been amazingly lucky, and I ex- 
pect nothing else but we shall discover an 
island yet!” 

‘‘Can that be of any great service to 
us? There are So many owners ready to 
start up and claim such discoveries, that 
I question if it would do us any great 
benefit.”’ 

“Tet them start up—who cares for 
them? We’ll have the christening, and 
that’s half the battle. Marble Land, 
Wallingford Bay, Talcott Hills, and 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


Cape Crisis, would look well on the chart 
—ha! Miles?’’ 

‘<¢T have no objection to see it, sir.”’ 

‘“‘Land ho!’’ cried the lookout on the 
forecastle. 

‘There it is now, by George,’ cried 
Marble, springing forward. ‘‘I over- 
hauled the chart half an hour since, and 
there ought to be nothing within six hun- 
dred miles of us.”’ 


>] 


There it was, sure enough, and much — 


nearer to us than was at all desirable. 
So near, indeed, that the wash of the 
breakers on the reef that so generally 
lies off from the low coral islands of the 
Pacific was distinctly audible from the 
ship. The moon gave a strong light, it is 
true, and the night was soft and balmy, 
but the air, which was very light, blew 
directly toward this reef, and then there 
were always currents to apprehend. We 
sounded, but got no bottom. 

« Ay, this is one of your coral reefs, 
where a man goes on the rocks from off 
soundings, at a single jump,” muttered 
Marble, ordering the ship brought by the 
wind on the best tack to haul off-shore. 
‘‘No notice, and a wreck. As for anchor- 
ing in such a place, a fellow might as well 


run a line out to Japan; and, could an 


anchor find the bottom, the cable would 
have some such berth as a man who slept 
in a hammock filled with open razors.” 
All this was true enough; and we 
watched the effect of our change of course 
with the greatest anxiety. All hands 
were called, and the men were stationed in 
readiness to work the ship. But a few 


minutes satisfied us the hope of clawing | 


off in so light an air was to the last degree 
vain. 
reef, the breakers on which now became 
apparent, even by the light of the moon, 
the certain sign they were fearfully near. 

This was one of those moments in which 
Marble could show himself to be a true 
man. 
possessed ; and stood on the taffrail, giv- 


ing his orders, with a distinctness and pre- — 
cision I have never seen surpassed, I was — 


kept in the chains, myself, to watch the 
casts of the lead. 


The vessel set in fast toward the- 


He was perfectly calm and self- — 


‘““No bottom,’’ how- 
ever, was the never-failing report; nor 


AFLOAT AND. ASHORE. 


was any bottom expected ; it being known 
that these reefs were quite perpendicular 
on their seaward side. The captain called 
out to me, from time to time, to be active 
and vigilant, as our set in-shore was un- 
controllable, and the boats, ifin the water, 
as the launch could not* be for twenty 
minutes, would be altogether useless. I 
proposed to lower the yawl, and to pull to 
leeward, to try the sounding, in order to 
ascertain if it were not possible to find 
bottom at some point short of the reef, on 
which we should hopelessly be set, unless 
checked by some such means, in the course 
of the next fifteen or twenty minutes. 

“Do it at once, sir,’’ cried Marble. 
“The thought is a good one, and does 
you credit, Mr. Wallingford.’’ 

I left the ship in less than five min- 
utes, and pulled off, under the ship’s lee- 
bow, knowing that tacking or wearing 
would be out of the question, under the 
‘circumstances. I stood up in the stern- 
sheets, and made constant casts with the 
hand-lead, with a short line, however, as 
the boat went foaming through the water. 
The reef was now plainly in sight, and I 
could see, as well as hear, the long, for- 
midable ground-swells of the Pacific, while, 
fetching up against these solid barriers, 
they rolled over, broke, and went beyond 
the rocks inangry froth. At this perilous 
instant, when I would not have given the 
poorest acre of Clawbonny to have been the 
owner of the Crisis, I saw a spot to leeward 
that was comparatively still, or in which 
the water did not break. It was not 
fifty fathoms from me when first dis- 
covered, and toward it I steered, animat- 
“ing the men to redoubled exertions. We 
were in this narrow belt of smooth water, 
as it might be, in an instant, and the cur- 
rent sucked the boat through it so fast as 
to allow time to make but a single cast of 
the lead. I got bottom; but it was in six 
fathoms ! 

The boat was turned, and headed out 
again, as if life and death depended on the 
result. The ship was fortunately within 
sound of the voice, steering still by the 
wind, though setting three feet toward 
the reef for one made in the desired 
- direction ; and I hailed. 


355 


“What now, Mr. Wallingford ? ”’ de- 
manded Marble, as calmly as if anchored 
near a wharf at home. 

““ Do you see the boat, sir ? ”’ 

‘Quite plainly ;—God knows you are 
near enough to be seen.”’ 

‘‘Has the ship steerage-way on her, 
Captain Marble ? ’’ 

*« Just that, and nothing more to boast 
of.’’ 

*“Then I ask no questions; but try to 
follow the boat. It is the only hope; and 
it may succeed.’’ 

I got no answer ; but I heard the deep, 
authoritative voice of Marble, ordering 
the “‘helm up’? and the men, “‘to man 
the weather-braces.’’ I could scarcely 
breathe, while I stood looking at the 
ship’s bows, as they fell off, and noted 
her slow progress ahead. Her speed in- 
creased sensibly, however, and I kept the 
boat far enough to windward to give the 
vessel room fairly to enter the pass. At 
the proper moment, we moved toward the 
inlet, the Crisis keeping more and more 
away, in order to follow. JI was soon in 
the pass itself, the water breaking within 
ten fathoms on each side of me, sending 
portions of its foam to the very blades of 
our oars; but the iead still gave me six 
fathoms. At the next cast, I got ten; 
and then the ship was at the point where 
I had just before found six. The breakers 
were roaring behind me, and I pulled 
round, and waited for the ship, steering 
to the southward, sounding as I went. I 
could see that the ship hauled up, and 
that I was already behind the reef. 
Straining my voice, I now called out— 

“* Anchor, sir—bear a hand and anchor, 
as soon as possible.”’ 

Not a word came back; but up went 
the courses, followed by the _ top-gal- 
lant sails, after which down went the 
jib. I heard the fore and main-top- 
sail halyards overhauling themselves, 
spite of the roar of the breakers, and then 
the ship luffed into the wind. Glad enough 
was I to hear the heavy plunge of one of 
the bowers, as it fell from the cat-head 
into the water. Even then I remained 
stationary to note the result. The ship 
took her scope of cable freely, after which 


356 


I observed that she was brought up. The 
next moment I was on board her. 

“A close shave, Mr. Wallingford,”’ 
said Marble, giving me a squeeze of the 
hand, that said more for his feelings than 
any words such a being could utter ; “‘and 
many thanks for your piloting. Is not 
that land I see, away here to the leeward 
—more' to the westward, boy ?’”’ 

«Tt is, sir, beyond a doubt. It must be 
one of the coral islands; and this is the 
reef that usually lies to seaward from 
them. There is the appearance of trees 
ashore ! ”’ 

‘‘Tt’s a discovery, youngster, and will 
make us all great names! Remember, 
this passage I call ‘ Miles’s Inlet; ’ and to 
the reef I give the name of ‘ Yawl Reef.’ ”’ 

I could not smile at this touch of Mar- 
ble’s vanity, for concern left. me no 
thoughts but for the ship. The weather 
was now mild and the bay smooth; the 
night was fine, and it might be of the last 
importance to us to know something more 
of our situation. ~The cable might chafe 
off, probably would, so near a coral reef ; 
and I offered to pull in.toward the land, 
sounding as I went, and otherwise gain- 
ing the knowledge that might be neces- 
sary to our security. After a little re- 
flection, the captain consented, ordering 
me to take provisions and water in the 
boat as the duty might detain me until 
morning. 

I found the bay between the reef and 
the island about a league in breadth, and 
across its entire width the soundings did 
not vary much from ten fathoms. The 
outer barrier of rock, on which the sea 
broke, appeared to be an advanced wall, 
that the indefatigable little insects had 
erected, as it might be, in defense of their 
island, which had probably been raised 
from the depths of the ocean, a century or 
two ago, by some of their own ancestors. 
The gigantic works completed by these 
little aquatic animals are well known to 
navigators, and give us some tolerably 
accurate notions of the manner in which 
the face of the globe has been made to 
undergo some of its alterations. I found 
the land easy of access, low, wooded, and 
without any sign of habitation. 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


The night was so fine that I ventured 
inland, and after walking more than a 
mile, most of the distance in a grove of 
cocoa and bananas, I came to the basin of 
water that is usually found in the islands 
of this particular formation. The inlet 
from the sea was at no great distance, 
and I sent one of the men back to the 
yawl, with orders for the boat to proceed 
thither. I next sounded the inlet and the 
bay, and found everywhere a sandy bot- 
tom, and about ten fathoms of water. As 
I expected, the shoalest spot was the inlet, 
but in this, which I sounded thoroughly, 
there was nowhere less than five. It was 
now midnight, and I should have remained 
on the island until morning, to make fur- 
ther surveys by daylight, had we not seen 
the ship under her canvas, and so much 
nearer to us than we had supposed possi- 
ble, as to satisfy me she was drifting in 


| 


4 


t 


fast toward the land. Of course I did not — 


hesitate, but pulled on board. | 

It was as I suspected. The rocks so 
near the reef had chafed off the cable ; 
the ship struck adrift, and Marble was 
under his canvas waiting my return, in 
order to ascertain where he might anchor 
anew. I told him of the lagoon in the 
center of the island, and gave him every 
assurance of there being water enough to 
carry in any craft that floats. My repu- 
tation was up, in consequence of the man- 
ner the ship had been taken through the 
first inlet, and I was ordered to con her 
into this new haven. 


The task was not difficult. The light- 


ness of the wind, and uncertainty about — 


the currents proving the only source of 
embarrassment, I succeeded in finding the 
passage, after a short trial; and sending 
the boat ahead, under Talcott, as an ad- 
ditional precaution, soon had the Crisis 
floating in the very center of this natural 
deck. Sail was shortened as we came in, 
and the ship made a flying moor; after 
which we lay as securely as if actually in 
some basin wrought by art. It is my 
opinion, the vessel would have ridden out 
the hardest gale, or anything short of a 
hurricane, at single anchor, in that place. 
The sense of security was now so strong: 
upon us, that we rolled up our canvas, set 


“ 


; 
za 


{ 
| 
. 
| 
| 


: 
| 
| 


‘ 


AFPLOAT AND ASHORE. 


357 


an anchor-watch of only one man, and! eralizes in discoveries, altogether, making 


turned in. 

I never laid my head down, on board 
ship, with greater satisfaction than I did 
that night. Let the truth be frankly 
stated. I was perfectly satisfied with 
myself. It was owing to my decision and 
vigilance that the ship was saved, when 
outside the reef, out of all question; and I 
think she would have been lost after she 
had struck adrift, had I not discovered 
her present berth. There she was, how- 
ever, with land virtually all around her, 
a good bottom, plenty of water, and 
well moored. As I have said already, 
she could not be better secured in an arti- 
ficial dock. Inthe midst of the Pacific, 
away from all custom-house officers, in a 
recently discovered and uninhabited isl- 
and, there was nothing to fear. Men 
Sleep soundly in such circumstances, and 
I should have been in a deep slumber in a 
minute after I was in my berth, had not 
Marble’s conversation kept me awake, 
quite unwillingly on my part, for five min- 
utes. His stateroom door was open, and 
through it, the following discourse was 
held. | 

“I think, on the whole,’’ commenced 
the captain, “‘it will be better to general- 
ize a little more’’—this was a favorite 
expression of the ex-mate’s, and one he 
often used without exactly knowing its 
application himself. ‘Yes, to generalize 
a little more; it shall be Marble Land, 
Wallingford Bay, Yawl Reef, Talcott in- 
let, Miles’s Anchorage—and a d——d bad 
anchorage it was, Miles; but never mind, 


we must take the good with the bad in 


this wicked world.”’ 

“Very true, sir; but, as for taking 
that anchorage, you must excuse me, as I 
Shall never take it again.’’ 

“Perhaps not. Well, this is what I 
call comfort—ha! Talcott? Is Talcott 
asleep, Miles ? ”’ 

*“He and the second mate are hard at 
it, sir—full and by, and going ten knots,”’ 
I muttered, wishing my tormentor in 
Japan, at the moment. 

“Ay; they are rackers at a sleep! I 


Say, Miles, such a discovery as this will 


make a man’s fortune! The world gen- 


no great matter of distinction between 
your Columbuses, Cooks, or Marbles. An 
island is an island, and he who first dis- 
covers it has the credit. Poor Captain 
Williams! he would have sailed this ship 
for a whole generation, and never found 
anything in the way of novelty.” 

‘Except the straits,’’ I muttered, very 
indistinctly, breathing deep, and hard. 

“Ay, that was an affair! Hadn’t you 
and I been aboard, the ship never would 
have done that. We are the very off- 
spring of luck! There was the affair of the 
wreck off Madagascar — there are bloody 
currents in the Pacific, too, I find, Miles.’’ 

‘Yes, sir—hard-a-weather i 

“The fellow’s dreaming. One word, 
boy, before you cut loose from all reason 
and reflection. Don’t you think it would 
be a capital idea to poke ina little patriot- 
ism among the names! patriotism goes so 
far in our part of the world. Congress 
Rocks would be a good title for the high- 
est part of the reef, and Washington 
Sands would do for the landing you told 
me of. Washington should have a finger 
in the pie.’’ 

‘‘Crust isn’t down, sir.”’ 

“The fellow’s off, and I may as well 
follow, though it is not easy to Sleep on 
the honor of a discovery like this. Good- 
night, Miles ! ”’ 

ray, Ay Sirel. 

Such was the account Marble after- 
ward gave me of the termination of the 
dialogue. Sleep, sleep, sleep! Never did 
men enjoy their rest more than we did for 
the next five hours, the ship being as si- 
lent as a church on a week day, during 
the whole time. For myself, I can safely 
say I heard nothing, or knew nothing, 
until | was awakened by aviolent shake 
of the shoulder. Supposing myself to 
have been aroused for an ordinary watch 
at sea, 1 was erect in an instant, and 
found the sun’s rays streaming into my 
face through the cabin windows. This 
prevented me for a moment from seeing 
that I had been disturbed by Captain 
Marble himself. The latter waited until 
he perceived I could understand him, and 
then he said ina grave meaning manner— 


358 WORKS 

‘‘ Miles, there is a mutiny in the ship! 
Do you understand me, Mr. Wallingford ? 
—a bloody mutiny !”’ 

‘©A mutiny, Captain Marble! You 
confound me, sir—I had thought our peo- 
ple perfectly satisfied.” 

«‘Umph ! one never knows whether the 
copper will come up head or tail: J 
thought when I turned in last night, it 
was to take the surest nap I ever tasted 
afloat; and here I awake, and find a 
mutiny.”’ 

I was on my feet and dressing in an 
instant, as a matter of course, having first 
gone to the berths of the two other mates 
and given each a call. 

«But how do you know this, Captain 
Marble ?’’ I resumed, as soon as there 
wasa chance. “I hear no disturbance, 
and the ship is just where we left her,”’ 
glancing through the cabin windows; ‘‘I 
think you must be mistaken, sir.”’ 

«NotI. Iturned out ten minutes since, 
and was about to go on deck to get a look 
at your basin, and breathe the fresh air, 
when I found the companion-doors fast- 
ened, precisely Smudge-fashion. I sup- 
pose you will allow that no regular ship’s 
company would dare to fasten the officers 
below, unless they intended to seize the 
craft.”’ 

‘¢This is very extraordinary! Perhaps 
some accident has befallen the doors. Did 
you call out, sir? ”’ 

‘«¢T thumped like an admiral, but got no 
answer. When on the point of trying the 
virtue of a few kicks, I overheard a low 
laugh on deck, and that let me into the 
secret of the state of the nation at once. 
I suppose you will all admit, gentlemen, 
when sailors laugh at their officers, as 
well as batten them down, that they must 
be somewhat near a state of mutiny.’’ 

«Tt, does look so, indeed, sir. We had 
better arm the moment we are dressed, 
Captain Marble.’’ 

‘‘T have done that already, and you 
will each find loaded pistols in my state- 
room.”’ 

In two minutes from that moment all 
four of us were in a state for action, each 
man armed with a brace of ship’s pis- 

tols, well loaded and freshly primed. 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


Marble was for making a rush at the 
cabin doors at once, but I suggested the 
improbability of the steward or Neb’s 
being engaged in any plot against the | 
officers, and thought it might be well to ~ 
ascertain what had become of the two 
blacks before we commenced operations. 
Talcott proceeded instantly to the steer- 
age where the steward slept, and returned | 
in a moment to report that he had found 
him sound asleep in his berth. | 


ble determined to make his first demon- 
stration by way of the forecastle, where, 
by acting with caution, a surprise on the 
mutineers might be effected. 
remembered that a door communicated 
with the forecastle, the fastenings of 
which were on the side of ‘*’twixt decks.” 
Most of the cargo being in the lower hold 
there was no difficulty in making our way 
to this door, where we stopped and list- 


the door, and we entered the forecastle, 
pistols in hand. Every berth had its ten- 


— —_..- 


Re-enforced by this man, Captain Mar- 


It will be : 


ened, in order to learn the state of things 

on the other side of the bulkhead. Mar- — 
ble had whispered to me, aS we groped — : 
our way along in the sort of twilight | 
which pervaded the place, the hatches — 
being on and secured, that ‘them bloody 
Philadelphians’? must be at the bottom : 
of the mischief, as our old crew were a — 
set of as “ peaceable, well-disposed chaps 

as ever eat duff (dough) out of a kid.” 

The result of the listening was to pro- 
duce a general surprise. Out of all ques- 
tion, snoring, and that on no small scale 
of the gamut of Morpheus, was unequiv- — 
ocally heard. Marble instantly opened 


ant, and all hands were asleep! Fatigue, 
and the habit of waiting for calls, had 
evidently kept each of the seamen in his 
berth, until that instant. Contrary to 
usage, in so warm a climate, the scuttle 
was on, and a trial soon told us it was 
fast. 

«To generalize on this idee, Miles,’”’ ex- © 
claimed the captain, ‘‘ 1 should say we are 
again battened down by savages LY. 

‘‘Tt does indeed look so, sir: and yet 1 
saw no sign of the island’s being inhabited. — 
It may be well, Captain Marble, to muster 
the crew, that we may learn who’s who.” 


+ 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


“‘ Quite right—do you turn ’em up, and 
send ’em all aft into the cabin, where we 
have more daylight.”’ 

I set about awaking the people, which 
was not difficult, and in a few minutes 
everybody was sent aft. Following the 
crew, it was soon found that only one man 
was missing, and he was the very indi- 
vidual whom we had left on deck, when 
we had all gone below on securing the 
ship. Every soul belonging to the vessel 
was present in cabin or steerage, but this 
solitary man—Philadelphians and all ! 

‘* Jt can never be that Harris has dared 
to trifle with us,’’ said Talcott; ‘‘and yet 
it does look surprisingly like it.”’ 

“Quite sure, Miles, that Marble Land 
is an uninhabited island ?”’ said the cap- 
tain, interrogatively. 

“I can only say, sir, that it is as much 
like all the other uninhabited coral isl- 
ands we have passed, as one pea is like 
another ; and that there were no signs of 
a living being visible last night. It is true 
we saw but little of the island, though to 
appearances there was not much to see.”’ 

““ Unluckily, all the men’s arms are on 
deck, in the arm-chest, or strapped to the 
boom or masts. There is no use, however, 
in dillydallying against one man; so I will 
make a rumpus that will soon bring the 
chap to his bearings.’’ Hereupon Marble 
made what he called a rumpus in good 
earnest. I thought, for a moment, he 
would kick the cabin doors down. 

««*Andzomelee — ’andzomelee,’’ said 
some one on deck. ‘‘ Vat for you make 
so much kick ? ”’ 

“Who the devil are you ?’’ demanded 
Marble, kicking harder than ever. “Open 
the cabin doors, or Ill kick them down, 


and yourself overboard.”’ 


** Monsieur — sair,’’ rejoined another 
voice, ‘‘ fenez—you air prisonnier. Com- 
prenez-vous—prisonair, eh?”’ 

*“These are Frenchmen, Captain Mar- 
ble,’? I exclaimed, “‘and we are in the 
hands of the enemy.”’ 

This was astounding intelligence, so 
much so, that all had difficulty in be- 
lieving it. A further parley, however, 


destroyed our hopes, little by little, un- 


til we entered into an arrangement with 


ar 


359 


those on deck, to the following effect: I 
was to be permitted to go out, in order to 
ascertain the real facts of our situation ; 
while Marble and the remainder of the 
crew were to remain below, passive, until 
the result should be reported. Under this 
arrangement, one of the cabin doors was 
opened, and I sallied forth. 

Astonishment almost deprived me of 
the power of vision, when I looked around 
me. Quite fifty armed white men, sailors 
and natives of France, by their air and 
language, crowded around me, as curious 
to see me, as I could possibly be to see 
them. In their midst was Harris, who 
approached me with an embarrassed and 
sorrowful air— 

‘““T know I deserve death, Mr. Walling- 
ford,’’ this man commenced ; “‘ but I fell 
asleep after so much work, and every- 
thing looking so safe and out-of-harm’s 
way like; and when I woke up, I found 
these people on board, and in possession 
of the ship.”’ 

‘In the name of wonder, whence come 
they, Harris ? Is there a French ship at 
the island ? ”’ 

“‘ By all I can learn and see, sir, they 
are the crew of a wrecked letter-of-mar- 
que—an Indiaman of some sort or other ; 
and finding a good occasion to get off the 
island, and make a rich prize, they have 
helped themselves to the poor Crisis— 
God bless her! say I, though she is now 
under the French flag, I suppose.’’ 

I looked up at the gaff, and, sure 
enough, there was flying the tri-color! 


CHAPTER XVI. 


‘The morning air blows fresh on him; 
The waves dance gladly in his sight; 
The sea-birds call, and wheel and skim 
O, blessed morning light ! 
He doth not hear their joyous call; he sees 
No beauty in the wave, nor feels the breeze.”’ 
—DANA. 


TRUTH is, truly, often stranger than 
fiction. 

The history of the circumstances that 
brought us into the hands of our enemies 
will fully show this. Za Pauline was a 
ship of six hundred tons, that carried 


360 WORKS 
letters-of-marque from the French govern- 
ment. She sailed from France a few 
weeks after we had left London, bound on 
a voyage somewhat similar to our own, 
though neither sea-otter skins, sandal- 
wood, nor pearls, formed any part of her 
contemplated bargains. Her first desti- 
nation was the French islands off Madagas- 
car, where she left part of her cargo, and 
took in a few valuables inreturn. Thence 
she proceeded to the Philippine Islands, 
passing in the track of English and 
American traders, capturing two of the 
former and sinking them after taking out 
such portions of cargo as suited her own 
views. From Manilla, La Pauline shaped 
her course for the coast of South America, 
intending to leave certain articles brought 
from France, others purchased at Bour- 
bon, the Isle of France, and the Philip- 
pines, and divers bales and boxes found in 
the holds of her prizes, in that quarter of 
the world, in exchange for the precious 
metals. In effecting all this, Monsieur Le 
Compte, her commander, relied, firstly, on 
the uncommon sailing of his ship ; second- 
ly, on his own uncommon boldness and 
dexterity, and, thirdly, on the well-known 
disposition of the South Americans to 
smuggle. Doubloons and dollars taking 
up but little room, he reserved most of the 
interior of his vessel, after his traffic on 
the ‘‘ Main,’’ for such property as might 
be found in the six or eight prizes he cal- 
culated, with certainty, on making, after 
getting to the eastward ofthe Horn. All 
these well-grounded anticipations had been 
signally realized down to a period of just 
three months to a day prior to our own 
arrival at this unhappy island. 

On the night of the day just mentioned, 
La Pauline, without the smallest notice 
of the vicinity of any danger, running in 
an easy bowline and without much sea, 
had brought up on another part of the 
very reef from which we had made so 
narrow an escape. The rocks being coral, 
there was little hope for her; and, in fact, 
they appeared through her bottom within 
two hours after she struck. The sugars 
taken in at the Isle of France, as a ground 
tier of ballast, were soon rendered of doubt- 
ful value, as a matter of course, but the 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


weather remaining pleasant, Captain Le 
Compte succeeded, by means of his boats, 
in getting everything else of value on the 
island, and forthwith set about breaking 
up the wreck, in order to construct a craft 


. 
{ 


that might carry himself and his people ‘ 
to some civilized land. Having plenty of 


tools, and something like sixty men, great 
progress had been made in the work, a 


schooner of about ninety tons being then | 


so far completed as to be nearly ready to 
be put in the water. Such was the state 
of things, when, one fine night, we ar- 
rived in the manner already related. The 
French kept constant lookouts, and it 
seems we were seen, a distant speck on 
the ocean, just as the sun set, while the low 
trees of the island eluded our vigilance. 

By the aid of a good night glass our 
movements were watched, and a boat was 
about to be sent out to warn us of our 
danger, when we passed within the reef. 


Captain Le Compte knew the chances 


were twenty to one that we were an enemy 
and he chose to lie concealed to watch the 
result. As soon as we had anchored with- 
in the basin, and silence prevailed in the 
ship, he manned his own gig, and pulled 
with muffled oars up under our bows, to 
reconnoiter. Finding everything quiet, 
he ventured into the fore-chains, and 
thence on deck, accompanied by three of 
his men. He found Harris snoring, with 
his back supported against a gun-car- 
riage, and immediately secured him. Then 


it only remained to close the fore-scuttle 


and the cabin-doors, and to fasten them, 
to have us all prisoners below. The boat 
was sent for more men, and hours before 


any of us in the berths were awake, the — 
changed masters. — 
Harris told our story, and the captors — 
knew our whole history, from the day of — 


ship had _ effectually 


sailing down to the present time. 
Much of this I learned in subsequent 
conversations with the French, but 


enough of it was related to me then to 
let me understand the outlines of the 


truth. My eyes also let me into many 
secrets. I found the island, by daylight, 
substantially as I had supposed it to be. 


It was not so large, however, as it had 


seemed to me by the aid of*the moon, 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 361 


though its general character was the 
same. The basin in which the ship lay 
might have covered a hundred and fifty 
acres in extent, the belt of land which 
encircled it varying in breadth from a 
quarter of a mile to three miles. Most of 
the island was an open grove, lying at an 
elevation of from ten to thirty feet above 
the ocean ; and we ascertained there were 
several springs of the sweetest water on 
it. Nature, by one of its secret processes, 
had covered the earth with a beautiful 
short grass; and the French, with their 
usual attention to the table, and their com- 
mendable activity, had already several 
materials for salads, etc., in full growth. 
String beans might be had for asking, and 
petits pois were literally a drug. I saw 
the tents of the French extending in a 
line beneath the shades of the trees; and 
there was La Petite Pauline (the schoon- 
er) on her ways, actually undergoing the 
process of receiving her first coat of paint. 
As for La Pauline herself, I could just 
discover her lower mastheads, inclining 
an angle of forty-five degrees from the 
perpendicular, through a vista in the trees. 

There was a good-humored common 
sense in all the proceedings of Monsieur 
Le Compte, that showed he was a philoso- 
pher in the best sense of the word. He 
took things without repining himself, and 
wished to make others as happy as cir- 
cumstances would allow. At his sugges- 
tion I invited Marble on deck; and after 
making my own commander acquainted 
with the state of the facts, we both list- 
ened to the propositions of our captor. 
Monsieur le Compte, all his officers, and 
not a few of his men, had been prisoners, 
some time or other, in England, and there 
was no difficulty in carrying on the nego- 
tiations in our mother tongue. 

“Votre bdtiment—your sheep, shall 
become French—bien entendu,’’ com- 
menced our captor; ‘vid her car gaison 
—rig, and tout cela. Bien; c’est convenu. 
I shall not exact rigueur in mes condi- 
tions. If you shall have possible to 
take your sheep from nous autres Fran- 
—¢ais—d’accord. Kvery man for himself 
et sa nation. Zere is the pavillion 
Frangais—and zere it shall fly, so long 


as we shall not help—mais—parole d’hon- 
neur, ze prize come sheep, and shall be 
sell very dear — entendez vous ? Bien. 
Now, sair, I shall put you and all your 
peepl’ on ze island, vere you shall take 
our place, while we take your place. Ze 
arm Shall be in our hand while ze sheep 
stay, but we leave you fusils, poudre et 
tout cela, behind.’’ 

This was, nearly verbatim, the pro- 


| gramme of capitulation as laid down by 


Captain Le Compte. As for Marble, it 
was not in his nature to acquiesce in such 


an arrangement without much caviling. 


and contention. But cuz bono ? We were 
in Monsieur Le Compte’s hands; and 
though disposed to deal very handsomely 
by us, it was easy enough to see he was 
determined to make his own conditions. 
I succeeded, at last, in making Marble 
understand that resistance was useless; 
and he submitted, though with some such 
grace aS a man who has not been mes- 
merized, submits to an amputation—those 
who have, are said rather to delight in 
the amusement. 

The terms of the capitulation—and they 
differed but little from surrendering at 
discretion—were no sooner agreed to, than 
our people were ordered into the forecas- 
tle, whence they were transferred to the 
boats, in readiness to be sent ashore. All 
the chests and private effects were moved 
out, in the most honorable manner, and 
sent into La Pauline’s boats, which lay 
prepared to receive them. As for us offi- 
cers, we were put in the gig, Neb and the 
cabin steward being charged with the 
duty of looking after our private property. 
When everybody, the blacks excepted, 
was in a boat, we shoved off and proceed- 
ed toward the landing, as chopfallen and 
melancholy a party as ever took posses- 
sion of anewly-discovered country. Mar- 
ble affected to whistle, for he was secretly 
furious at the nonchalance manifested by 


Captain Le Compte; but I detected him ~ <a 
in getting parts of Monny Musk and © 


the Irish Washerwoman into the same 
strain. To own the truth, the ex-mate 
was morally much disturbed. As for my- 
self, 1 considered the affair as an incident 
of war, and cared much less. 


362 WORKS 

*« Voila, messieurs,’’? exclaimed Mon- 
sieur Le Compte, flourishing his arms, 
with an air of unsurpassed generosity ; 
“you shall be master here so soon after 
we shall go away, and take our leetl’ 
property wid us !”’ 

“‘He’s d—d generous, Miles,’’ growled 
Marble, in my ear. ‘‘He’ll leave us the 
island, and the reef, and the cocoanuts, 
when he has gone off with our ship, and 
her cargo. I’ll bet all ’'m worth he tows 
off his bloody schooner, in the bargain.’’ 

‘‘There is no use in complaining, sir ; 
and by keeping on good terms with the 
French, we may fare the better.’’ 

The truth of this was soon apparent. 
Captain Le Compte invited us to share 
his breakfast, and we repaired to the tent 
of the French officers, with that purpose. 
In the meantime, the French sailors were 
transferring the few articles they intended 
to carry away, to the ship, with the gen- 
erous object of leaving their own tents to 
the immediate occupation of us prisoners. 
As Monsieur Le Compte’s plan was to 
proceed to the Spanish Main in order to 
complete his contemplated traffic in that 
quarter, no sooner: were the tents pre- 
pared than the French began also to ship 
such articles of their own as it had orig- 
inally been proposed to exchange for 
Spanish dollars. In the meantime, we 
sat down to breakfast. 


“* C’est la fortune de guerre !—vat you‘ 


call fortune of war, messieurs,’’ observed 
Captain Le Compte, whirling the stick in 
a vessel of chocolate, in a very artistical 
manner, all the while. ‘‘ Bon—c’est ex- 
cellente. Antoin.’’ 

Antoin appeared in the shape of a well- 
smoked, copper-colored cabin-boy. He 
was told to take a smali pitcher of the 
chocolate, with Captain Le Compte’s com- 
pliments, to mademozselle, and to tell her 
there was now every prospect of their quit- 
ting the island in a very few days, and of 
seeing la belle France in the course of the 
next four or five months. This was said 
in French, and rapidly, with the vehe- 
mence of one who felt all he uttered, and 
more too, but I knew enough of the lan- 
guage to understand its drift. 

“‘T suppose the fellow is generalizing on 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


our misfortunes, in his d—d lingo,”’ growl- 
ed Marble; ‘‘but let him look out—he’s. 
not home yet, by many a_ thousand 
miles ! ’’ 

I endeavored to explain it all to Mar- 
ble; but it was useless; he insisted the 
Frenchman was. sending chocolate from 
his own table to his crew, in order to play 
the magnifico, on the score of his own good 
luck. There was no use in ‘kicking 
against the pricks,’’ and I let Marble en- 
joy the pleasure of believing the worst of 
his captor ; a sort of Anglo-Saxon propen- 
sity that has garnished many a page in 
English and American history—to say 
nothing of the propensities and_histo- 
ries of others, among the great family of 
nations. 

When breakfast was over, Monsieur Le 
Compte led me aside, in a walk under the 


trees, to explain his views and intentions. 


He gave me to understand I had been 
selected for this communication on ac- 
count of his observing the state of mind 
of my captain. I also comprehended a 
little French, which was quite convenient 
in a conversation with one who interlarded 
his English so much with phrases taken 
from his mother tongue. I was given to 
understand that the French would put the 
schooner into the water that evening, and 
that we should find her masts, rigging, 
and sails all fitted for her. With activ- 


ity, she could be ready to quit the island — 
A portion — 


in a fortnight, at the furthest. 
of our own provisions would be landed, 
as better suited to our habits than those 
taken from La Pauline; while a portion 
of the last would be transferred to the 
Crisis, for the same reason, as applied 
to the French. As for water-casks, etc., 
they were all arranged; everything of 
the sort having been taken from the 
wreck, with little or no difficulty, imme- 
diately after the loss of the ship. In a 


word, we should have little more to do. 


than to step the masts, rig our craft, 
stow her hold, and proceed at once to the 
nearest friendly port. 


‘I zink you shall go to Canton,”? 
“Ze dis- — 
stance shall not be much more than to — 
Sout’ America; and zere you shall find 


added Monsieur Le Compte. 


plenty of your compatriotes. Of course, 
you can sleep and go chez vous—vat you 
call ‘home,’ with toute le facilité. Oui 
—cet arrangement est admirable.”’ 

So the arrangement might appear to 
him, though I confess to a decided prefer- 
ence to remaining in the ‘blind Crzszs,”’ 
as our men had got to call her, after her 
blundering through the Straits of Magel- 
lan. 

‘«* Allons!’’ exclaimed the French cap- 
tain, suddenly. ‘‘ We are near ze tent of 
mademoiselle—we shall go and demand 
how she carry herself ce beau matin !”’ 

On looking up, I saw two small tents 
within fifty yards of us. They were 
beautifully placed, in the midst of a 
thicker portion of the grove than usual, 
and near a spring of the most exquisitely 
limpid water I ever beheld. These tents 
were made of new canvas, and had been 
fashioned with care and skill. I could see 
that the one we first approached was car- 
peted over, and that it had many of the 
appliances of a comfortable abode. Mon- 
sieur Le Compte, who was really a good- 
looking fellow under forty, put on his most 
amiable appearance as he got near the 
canvas door; and he hemmed once or 
twice, as resvectfully as he could, by way 
of letting his presence be known. In an 
instant, a maid-servant came out to re- 
ceive him. The moment I laid eyes on 
this woman, it struck me her face was. 
familiar, though I could not recall the 
place, or time, where, or when, we had 
before met. The occurrence was so sin- 
gular, that I was still ruminating on it, 
when I unexpectedly found myself stand- 
ing in the tent, face to face with Emily 
Merton and her father ! 

We recognized each other at a glance, 
and, to Monsieur Le Compte’s amazement, 
hearty greetings passed between us, as 
old acquaintances. Old acquaintances, 
however, we could scarce be called; but, 
on an uninhabited island in the South Seas, 
one is glad to meet any face that he has 
ever met before. Emily looked less bloom- 
ing than when we had parted, near a 
twelvemonth before, in London; but she 


was still pretty and pleasing. Both she 
and her father were in mourning, and, 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


1 


363 


the mother not appearing, I at once 
guessed the truth. Mrs. Merton was an 
invalid when I knew her, though I had 
not anticipated for her so speedy a death. 

I thought Captain Le Compte appeared 
vexed at my reception. Still, he did not 
forget his good manners; and he rose, 
saying he would leave me with my friends 
to make mutual explanations, while he 
proceeded to overlook the duty of the day. 
On taking his leave, I was not pleased to 
see him approach and kiss Emily’s hand. 
The act was done respectfully, and not 
entirely without grace ; but there were a 
feeling and manner in it that could not 
well be mistaken. HKmily blushed, as she 
wished him good morning, and turning to 
look at me, in spite of a kind of dog-in-the- 
manger sensation, I could not forbear 
smiling. 

‘‘Never, Mr. Wallingford, never 
Emily said, with emphasis, the instant 
her admirer was out of hearing. ‘‘ We 
are at his mercy, and must keep terms 
with him; but I can never marry a for- 
eigner.”’ 

«That is poor encouragement for Wall- 
ingford, my dear,’’ said her father, laugh- 
ing, ‘‘ should he happen to take a fancy to 
you himself.”’ 

Emily looked confused, but what, for 
the circumstances, was better still, she 
looked concerned. 

- “JT am sure, dear sir,’’ she answered, 
with a quickness I thought charming, 
‘‘T am sure Mr. Wallingford will not sup- 
pose I meant anything sorude. Then, he 
is no importunate suitor of mine, like this 
disagreeable Frenchman, who always 
seems to me more like a Turkish mas- 
ter, than like one who really respects a 
woman. Besides——’’ 

‘‘Besides what, Miss Merton?’’ I ven- 
tured to ask, perceiving that she hesi- 
tated. 

«‘ Besides, Americans are hardly for- 
eigners to us,’’ added Emily, smiling; 
‘‘for we have even American relatives, 
you know, father.” 

‘‘Quite true, my dear, and came near 
being Americans ourselves. Had my 
father established himself where he mar- 
ried, as had been his first intention, such 


199 


364 


would have been our national character. 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


| any way, and annoy Miss Merton with 


But Monsieur Le Compte has given usa importunities that are unpleasant to her.’’ 


moment to tell our stories to each other, 


and I think it will not be a very long mo- 


ment. Let one of us commence, if we 
wish the offices done without unpleasant 
listeners.”’ 

Emily urged me to begin, and I did not 


hesitate. My story was soon told. Major 


Merton and his daughter understood all 
about the capture of the ship in the basin, 
though they were ignorant of the vessel’s 
name. I had only to relate our voyage 
on the main, and the death of Captain 
Williams, therefore, to have my whole 
story told. I made it all the shorter, 
from an impatience to hear the circum- 
stance which had thrown my friends in 
their present extraordinary position. 

‘‘It seems extraordinary enough, be- 
yond doubt,’’ Major Merton began, the 
moment I left him an opening by my clos- 
ing remark, “but itis all very simple 
when you commence at the right end of 
the sad story, and follow events in the 
order in which they occurred. 

“When you left us in London, Walling- 
ford, I supposed we were on the point of 
sailing for the West Indies, but a better 
appointment soon after offering in the 
Kast, my destination was changed to Bom- 
bay. It was important that I should reach 
my port at as early a day as possible, and 
no Indiaman being ready, I took passage in 
a licensed running vessel, a ship of no size 
or force. Nothing occurred until we got 
within three or four days’ sail of our port, 
when we fell in with La Pauline, and 
were captured. At first, I think Captain 
Le Compte would have been willing to let 
me go on parole, but no opportunity of- 
fered, and we went with the ship to Ma- 
nilla. While there the melancholy loss 
happened, which, no doubt, you have com- 
prehended from our mourning; and I was 
strongly in hopes of making some ar- 
rangements that would still enable me to 
Save my situation. But by this time Mon- 
sieur Le Compte had become an open ad- 
mirer of Emily, and I suppose it is hope- 
less to expect any liberation, so long as 
he can invent excuses to frustrate it.”’ 

‘“‘T trust he does not abuse his power in 


Emily rewarded me for the warmth 
with which I spoke, with a sweet smile 
and a slight blush. 

“Of that I cannot accuse him, in one 
sense at least,’’ resumed Major Merton. 
‘‘ Monsieur Le Compte does all for us that 
his sense of delicacy can suggest; and it 
was not possible for passengers to be more 
comfortable or retired on board ship, than 
we were in the Pauline. That vessel had 
a poop, and its cabin was given up entire- 
ly to our use. At Manilla I was per- 


mitted to go at large on a mere verbal _ 


assurance of returning, and in all other 
particulars we have been treated as well 
as circumstances would very well allow. 
Nevertheless, Emily is ‘too young to ad- 
miré a suitor of forty, too English to 
admire a foreigner, and too well-born 
to accept one who is merely a merchant 
sailor—I mean one who is nothing, and 
has nothing but what his ship makes him 
or can give him.”’ 

I understood Major Merton’s distinc- 
tion, he saw a difference between the 


heir of Clawbonny, pursuing his advent- 
ures for the love of the sea, and the man 


who pursued the sea as an adventurer. It 
was not very delicately made, but it was 
pretty well, as coming from an European 
to an American—the latter being assumed 
ex gratid, to be a being of an inferior 
order, morally, politically, physically, 
socially, and in every other sense but the 
pecuniary. Thank Heaven! the Ameri- 
can dollar is admitted, pennyweight for 
pennyweight, to a precedency immediate- 
ly next to that of the metal dollar of 
Kurope. It even goes before the paper 
thaler of Prussia. 

“T can readily imagine Miss Merton 
would look higher than Captain Le 
Compte, for various reasons,” I an- 
Swered, making a sort of acknowledg- 
ment for the distinction in my favor by 
bowing involuntarily, ‘‘and I should hope 


that gentleman would cease to be 1m por- 


tunate as soon as convinced he cannot 
succeed.’’ 

“You do not know a Frenchman, Mr. 
Wallingford,’”’ rejoined Emily. ‘He is 


e. 


| 
4, 
5 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


the hardest creature on earth to persuade 
into the notion that he is not adorable.’’ 

‘«‘T can hardly believe that this weak- 
ness extends as far as the sailors,’’ said I, 
laughing. ‘‘ At all events, you will be 
released the instant you reach France.” 

«Sooner, too, I trust, Wallingford,”’ 
resumed the father. ‘‘These Frenchmen 
can have it their own way out here in the 
solitude of the Pacific, but once in the 
Atlantic I shall expect some British 
cruiser to pick us up, long ere we can 
reach France.”’ 

This was a reasonable expectation, and 
we conversed about it for sometime. I 
shall not repeat all that passed, but the 
reader can have no difficulty in under- 
standing that Major Merton and myself 
communicated to each other every fact 
that was likely to be of interest to men 
in our situation. When I thought it 
prudent to take my leave he walked 
some distance with me, holding his way 
to a point on the outer side of the island, 
where I could get a view of the wreck. 
Here he left me for the moment, while I 
proceeded along the beach, ruminating on 
all that had passed. 

The process by which Nature uses her 
materials to found islands in the midst of 
oceans like the Pacific, is a curious study. 
The insect that forms the coral rock must 
be an industrious little creature, as there 
is reason to think that some of the reefs 
that have become known to navigators 
within the last sixty or seventy years, 
have since been converted into islands 
yearing trees, by their labors. Should 
the work go on, a part of this vast sea 
will yet be converted into a continent ; 
and who knows but a railroad. may yet 
run across that portion of our globe con- 
necting America with the old world? I 
see that Captain Beechy, in his voyage, 
speaks of a wreck that occurred in 1792, 
on a reef, where in 1826 he found an island 
near three leagues long, bearing tall 
trees. It would be a curious calculation 
to ascertain, if one family of insects can 
make an island three leagues long in 
thirty-four years, how many families it 
would take to make the grading of the 
railroad I have mentioned. Ten years 


365 


since, I would not have ventured a hint of 
this nature, for it might have set specu- 
lation in motion, and been the instrument 
of robbing more widows and orphans of 
their straitened means; but, Heaven be 
praised! we have at length reached a 
period in the history of the country, when 
aman may venture on a speculation in 
the theory of geography without incur- 
ring the risk of giving birth to some wild 
—if not unprincipled—speculation on dol- 
lars and cents. 

As I drew near the outer shore of the 
island, opposite to the wreck, I came un- 
expectedly on Marble. The poor fellow 
was seated on a raised projection of coral 
rock, with his arms folded, and was in so 
thorough a brown study, that he did not 
even hear my footsteps in approaching, 
though I purposely trod heavily, in order 
to catch his ear. Unwilling to disturb 
him, I stood gazing at the wreck myself, 
for some little time, the place affording a 
much better view of it than any other 
point from which it had met my eye. The 
French had made far greater inroads upon 
their vessel, than the elements. She had 
struck to leeward of the island, and lay 
in a spot where, indeed, it might take 
years to break her entirely up, in that 
placid sea. Most of her upper works, 
however, were gone; and I subsequently 
discovered that her own carpenters had 
managed to get out even a portion of her 
floor-timbers, leaving the fabric bound 
together by those they left. Her lower 
masts were standing, but even her lower 
yards had been worked up, in order to 
make something useful for the schooner. 
The beach, at no great distance, was still 
strewed with objects brought from the: 
reef, and which it had not yet been found. 
necessary to use. 

At length a movement of mine attracted. 
Marble’s attention, and he turned his 
head toward me. He seemed glad I had 
joined him, and expressed himself happy, 
also, that he saw me alone. | 

‘“‘T have been generalizing a little on 
our condition, Miles,’’ he said, ‘‘and look 
at it which end forward I may, I find 
it bad enough; almost enough to over- 
come me. I loved that ship, Mr. Walling- 


366 


ford, as much as some folks love their pa- 
rents—of wife or children, I never had any 
—and the thought that she has fallen into 
the hands of a Frenchman is too much for 
my natur’. Had it been Smudge, I could 
have borne up against it; but, to haul 
down one’s colors to a wrack, and a bloody 
French wrack, too, it is superhuman !’’ 

‘*You must remember all the circum- 
stances, Captain Marble, and you will 
find consolation. ‘The ship was surprised, 
as we surprised the Lady of Nantes.”’ 

*“That’s just it—put that on a general 
principle, now, and where are you? Sur- 
prisers mustn’t be surprised. Had we set 
a quarter-watch, sir, it never could have 
happened ; and nothing less than a quar- 
ter-watch should have been set in a strange 
haven. What mattered it, that it was an 
uninhabited island, and that the ship was 
land-locked and well moored, and the hold- 
ing-ground was capital! It is all of no 
account when you come to look at the 
affair in the way of duty. Why, old Rob- 
bins, with his rivers in the ocean, would 
never have been caught in this miserable 
manner.”’ 

Then Marble fairly gave in, placed his 
two hard hands on his face, and I could 
see tears trickling from beneath them, as 
if water were squeezed from a stone. 

“‘The chances of the sea, Captain Mar- 
ble,’”? I said, greatly shocked at such an 
exhibition, coming from such a quarter— 
*‘the chances of the sea are sometimes 
too much for the best sailors. We should 
look at this loss, as we look at the losses 
occasioned by a gale—then there is some 
hope left, after all.’’ 

‘JT should like to know what—to me, 
there is no land ahead.’’ 

‘«Surprisers may not only be surprised, 
but they may carry on their old tradeagain, 
and surprise once more, in their turn.”’ 

«What do you mean by that, Miles ?’’ 
said Marble, looking up eagerly, and 
speaking as quick as lightning; ‘‘are 
you generalizing, or have you any par- 
ticular project in view? ”’ 

‘‘ Both, sir. Generalizing, so far as 
taking the chances of war are concerned, 
and particularizing as to a certain notion 
that has come into my head.”’ 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


“Out with the last Miles—out with it, 
boy; the Lord made you for something 
uncommon.’’ 

‘First, let me know, Captain Marble, 
whether you have had any further conver- 
sation with Monsieur Le Compte ? whether 
he has said any more on the subject of 
our future proceedings ? ”’ 

‘‘T just left the grinning rascal—those 
amiable smiles of his, Miles, are only so 
many grins thrown into our faces to let 
us feel his good luck; but, d—n him, if-I 
ever get home, I[’ll fit out a privateer and 
be after him, if there’s a fast-going schoon- 
er to be had in all America for love or 
money. I think I’d turn pirate to catch 
the villain ! ’’ 

Alas! poor Marble. Little would he, 
who never got higher than a mate, unless 
by accident, be likely to persuade your 
cautious ship-owners to intrust him with 
a vessel of any sort, to go tilting against 
windmills afloat in that fashion. 

‘* But why go to America for a schooner, 
Captain Marble, when the French are 
polite enough to give us one here, exactly 
where we are? ”’ 


“T begin to understand you, boy. 


There is a little consolation in the idea, 


but this Frenchman has already got my 


commission, and without the document 
we should be no better than so many 
pirates.”’ 

“T doubt that, sir, even were a ship to 


act generally, provided she actually sailed” 


with a commission, and lost it by accident. 
Commissions are all registered, and proof 
of our character could be found at home.”’ 

‘‘Ay, for the Criszs, but not for this 
‘Pretty Polly;’’’ for so Marble trans- 
lated Petite Pauline. 
is only good for the vessel that is named 
in it.’’ 

*“T don’t know that, Captain Marble. 
Suppose our ship had been sunk in an 
action in which we took our enemy; could 
we not continue our voyage in the prize, 


and fight anything that came in our way — 


afterward ? ”’ . 
‘“By George, that does look reasonable. 


Here was I just threatening to go out as’ 


a daa yet hesitating about bites my 
own.’ 


“The commission — 


| 


FE 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


367 


«Do not the crews of captured vessels | York; begging pardon of the Sir Peters 


often rise upon their captors, and recap- 
ture their own vessels? and were any of 
them ever called pirates ? Besides, nations 
at war authorize almost every sort of hos- 
tile act against their enemies.”’ 

‘« Miles, I have been mistaken—you are 
a good seamen, but natur’ meant you for 
a lawyer! Give me your hand, boy; I 
see a gleam of hope ahead, and a man can 
live on less hope than food.”’ 

Marble then told me the substance of 
the conversation he had held with Cap- 
tain Le Compte. The latter had expressed 
a sudden and violent impatience to be off. 
I understood the cause in a moment; he 
wished to separate Emily from her old ac- 
quaintance as soon as possible, intending 
to put the schooner into the water for us 
that very afternoon, and to sail himself in 
the morning. This was a sudden resolu- 
tion, and the French were moving heaven 
and earth to carry it into effect. I con- 
fess to some little regret at hearing it, for 
it was pleasant to meet the Mertons in 
that unexpected manner, and the influence 
of woman in such a solitude is usually 
great. Inow told Marble of my discovery, 
and when he had got through with his ex- 
_ pressions of wonder, I carried him to the 
tents, and led him into the presence of his 
old acquaintances. In consequence of this 
visit, I enjoyed another half-hour’s téle-d- 
téte with Emily, Marble soon taking the 
major to walk with him beneath the trees. 

We were both recalled to a sense of our 
real situation by the reappearance of Mon- 
sieur Le Compte. I cannot say that our 
conqueror behaved in the least unhand- 
somely toward us, notwithstanding his 
evident jealousy. He had the tact to con- 
ceal most of his feelings, and owing either 
to liberality or to art, he assumed an air 
of generous confidence, that would be 
much more likely to touch the feelings of 
the maid he sought than any acts of se- 
verity. First asking permission of Miss 
Merton, he even invited us and himself to 
dine with the major, and on the whole we 
had an agreeable entertainment. We had 
turtle and champagne, and both of a 
quality that was then out of the reach 
of all the aldermen of London or New 


and Sir Johns of Guildhall, for putting 
them, in any sense, on a level with ‘“‘the 
gentleman from the Fourth Ward”’ or 
“the gentleman from the Eleventh 
Ward;’”’ though, if the truth must be 
told, the last very often eat the best din- 
ners, and drink, out of all comparison, the 
best wines. Who pays, is a fact buried 
in the arcana of aldermanic legerdemain. 
It was late before we left the table, 
though Monsieur Le Compte quitted us 
early. 

At five o’clock precisely we were sum- 
moned to witness the launch. Cham- 
pagne and claret had brought Marble 
into good humor, nor was I at all out of 
spirits myself. Emily put on her hat, 
and took her parasol, just as she would 
have done at home, and accepting my 
arm, she walked to the shipyard, like all 
the rest of us. Getting her a good place 
for the sight, I accompanied Marble to 
take a look at the Pretty Poll, which 
had not as yet attracted as much of our 
attention as she ought. I[ had suggested 
to him the probability of an occasion offer- 
ing to rise upon the Frenchmen, while 
their attention was taken up with the 
schooner ; but Monsieur Le Compte warily 
kept quite half his men in the ship, and 
this put the attempt out of the question, 
since the guns of the Crists would have 
swept any part of the island. 

The French mechanics deserved great 
credit for the skill they had manifested in 
the construction of La Petite Pauline. 
She was not only a safe and commodious 
craft for her size, but what was of great 
importance to us, her lines promised that 
she would turn out to be a fast sailer. I 
afterward ascertained that Captain Le 
Compte had been her draftsman, possess- 
ing not only much taste for, but a good 
deal of practice in, the art. The ship in 
which the Mertons had taken passage to 
Bombay had the copper for a teak-built 
frigate and sloop-of-war in her, and this 
had been transferred, among other arti- 
cles, to La Pauline, before the prize was 
burned. Availing himself of this circum- 
stance, Monsieur Le Compte had actually 
coppered his schooner, and otherwise he 


368 


had made her as neat and commodious as 
possible. I make no doubt he intended to 
surprise his friends at Marseilles, by show- 
ing what clever mariners, wrecked on an 
island of the Pacific, could do in an emer- 
gency. Then, doubtless, he found it 
pleasant to linger on this island, eating 
fresh cocoanuts, with delicious turtle, and 
making love to Emily Merton. Some of 
the charms of Pretty Poll were fairly 
to be attributed to the charms of the 
young lady. 

The men began to wedge up the mo- 
ment we were all present, and this por- 
tion of the labor was soon completed. 
Monsieur Le Compte then took his sta- 
tion in the head of the schooner. Making 
a profound bow to Emily, as if to ask 
her permission, the signal was given; 
the spur-shores were knocked away, and 
the little craft slid off into the water so 
easily, making so little ripple as she 
shot a hundred fathoms into the bay, 
as to give the assurance she would prove 
a fast vessel. Just as she was water- 
borne, Le Compte dashed a bottle against 
the tiller, and shouted at the top of his 
voice, **‘ Succés & la belle Hmilie.’’ 

I turned to Emily, and saw by the blush 
that she understood French, while the 
manner in which she pouted her pretty 
plump lip betrayed the humor in which 
the compliment had been received. 

In a few minutes Captain Le Compte 
landed, and, ina set speech, he gave up 
the schooner to our possession. "We were 
told not to consider ourselves as prisoners, 
our captor handsomely admitting that he 
had gained no laurels by his victory. 

‘““We shall go away, good friend,’’ he 
concluded, ‘‘ mais, suppose we shall meet, 
and nos deux républiques shall not be at 
peace, then each must fight for son pavil- 
lon.”’ 

_ This was a good concluding sentiment 
for such a scene. Immediately after, the 
Mertons and their domestics, of whom 
there were a man and a woman, em- 
barked. I took leave of them on the 
beach, and either my observation or my 
vanity induced me to think Emily got into 
the boat with reluctance. Many good- 
wishes were exchanged, and the major 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


called out to us, ‘‘ We shall meet again, 
gentlemen—there has been Providence in 
our previous intercourse. Adieu, until 
then.”’ 

The French were now in a great bustle. 
Most of the articles they intended to carry 
away were already on board the ship, and 
by the time it was dusk they had closed 
their communication with the land. When 
Captain Le Compte took his leave of us I 
could not but thank him for his many 
civilities. He had certainly dealt gener- 
ously by us, though I still think his sud- 
den departure, which made us fall heirs 
to many things we otherwise might not 
have so done, was owing to his wish to 
remove Emily Merton, as quickly as pos- 
sible, from my sight. 

At daylight next morning, Neb camé to 
the officers’ tents to say the ship was get- 
ting her anchors. I was up and dressed 
inamoment. The distance to the inlet was 
about a mile, and I reached it just as the 
Crisis was cast. In a few minutes she 
came sweeping into the narrow pass, un- 
der her topsails, and I saw Emily and her 
father leaning over the hammock-cloths of 
the quarter-deck. The beautiful girl was 
so near that I could read the expression 
of her soft eyes, and I fancied they were 
filled with gentle concern. The major 
called out, ‘*‘ God bless you, dear Walling- 
ford ’’—then the ship swept past, and was 
soon in the outer bay. Half an hour later, 
or before I left the spot, she was at sea, 


under everything that would draw from 


her trucks down. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


**T better brook the loss of brittle life, 
Than those proud titles thou hast won of me; 
They wound my thoughts, worse than thy sword 
my flesh.’’ —SHAKESPEARE. 


HALF-WAY between this inlet and the 
Shipyard I found Marble, standing with 
his arms folded, gazing after the receding 
ship. His countenance was no longer 
saddened; but it was fierce. He shook 
his hand menacingly at the French en- 
sign, which was flying at our old gaff, 
and said— 


Then Marble fairly gave in, placed his two hard hands on his face, and 
I could see tears trickling from beneath them as if water were squeezed 
from a stone.—Afloat and Ashore, 


VW 


3 


_ lL expect you will bestir yourself. 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


“Ay, d—n you, flutter away; you 
quiver and shake now like one of your 
coxcombs pigeon-winging ; but where will 
you be this day two months? Miles, no 


man but a bloody Frenchman would cast 


away a ship there, where this Mister 
Count has left the bones of his vessel ; 
though here, where we came so nigh go- 
ing, it’s a miracle any man could escape. 
Hadn’t we brought the Crisis through 
that opening first, he never would have 
dared to go out by it.’’ 

I confess I saw little about Monsieur 
Le Compte’s management but skill and 
good seamanship; but nothing is more 
painful to most men than to admit the 
merit of those who have obtained an ad- 
vantage over them. Marble could not 
forget his own defeat, and the recollection 
jaundiced his eyes and biased his judg- 
ment. 

“‘I see our people are busy already, 
sir,’ I remarked, by way of drawing the 
captain’s attention to some other subject. 
*“They have hauled the schooner up to 
the ard, and seem to be getting along 
spars for shores.”’ 

“Ay, ay—Talcott has his orders, and 
I shall 
step the masts myself, and you will get 
all the rigging ready to be put into its 
place, the moment it is possible. That 
Frenchman calculated, he told me to my 


face, that we might get to sea ina fort- 


night ; I will let him see that a set of 
Yankees can rig and stow his bloody 
schooner in three days, and then leave 
themselves time to play.” 

Marble was not a man of idle vaunts. 
He soon had everybody at work, with a 
system, order, silence, and activity that 
proved he was master of his profession. 


. _ Nor was the language which might sound 


_ complished in double the time. 


so boastful to foreign ears, altogether 
without its justification. Forty Ameri- 
cans were a formidable force; and, well 
directed, I make no doubt they would ac- 
complish far more than the ordinary run 
of French seamen, as they were governed 
and managed in the year1800, and count- 
ing them man for man, would have ac- 
Our crew 
had now long acted together, and fre- 


369 


quently under the most trying circum- 
stances ; and they showed their training, 
if men ever did, on the present occasion. 
Everybody was busy; and we had the 
shears up, and both masts stepped, in the 
course of a few hours. By the time the 
mainmast was in, I had the foremast 
rigged, the jib-boom inits place, the sprit- 
sail yard crossed—everything carried a 
spar under its bowsprit then—and the 
lower yard up. Itis true, the French had 
got everything ready for us; and when 
we turned the hands to, after dinner, we 
actually began to strike in cargo, water, 
provisions, and such other things as it 
was intended to carry away. At dusk, 
when we knocked off work, the Hmily 
looked like a sea-going craft, and there 
was every prospect of our having her 
ready for sea by the following evening. 
But, the duty had been carried on in 
silence. Napoleon said there had been 
more noise made in the little schooner 
which carried him from l’Orient to Basque 
Roads, than was made on board the line- 
of-battle ship that conveyed him to St. 
Helena, during the whole passage. Since 
that memorable day, the French have 
learned to be silent on board ship, and the 
fruits remain to be seen. 

That night, Marble and myself con- 
sulted together on the aspect of things— 
or, aS he expressed it, ‘‘we generalized 
over our prospects.’’ Monsieur Le Compte 
had done one thing which duty required 
of him. He did not leave us a kernel of 
the gunpowder belonging to either ship ; 
nor could we find a boarding-pike, cutlass, 
or weapon of any sort, except the officers’ 
pistols. We had a canister of powder, 
and a sufficiency of bullets for the last, 
which had been left us, out of an esprat 
de corps, or the feeling of an officer, 
which told him we might possibly need 
these means to keep our own crew in 
order. Such was not the fact, however, 
with the particular people we happened 
to have; a more orderly and reasonable 
set of men never sailing together. But 
Monsieur Le Compte knew it was his duty 
to put it out of their power to trouble us, 
so far as it lay in his; but, at the same 
time, while he left us the means of safety, 


370 


he provided against our doing any further 
injury to his own countrymen. In this he 
had pretty effectually succeeded, so far as 
armament was concerned. 

The next morning I was up with the 
appearance of the dawn, and, having suf- 
fered much from the heat of the preceding 
day, 1 walked to a suitable spot, threw off 
my clothes, and plunged into the basin. 
The water was.transparent almost as air; 
_and I happened to select a place where 
the coral grew within a few yards of the 
surface. As I dove, my eye fell on a con- 
siderable cluster of large oysters that 
were collected on the rock, and, reaching 
them, I succeeded in bringing up half a 
dozen that clung to each other. These 
dives I repeated, during the next quarter 
of an hour, until I had all the oysters, 
sixty or eighty in number, safe on the 
shore. That they were the pearl oysters, 
I knew immediately; and beckoning to 
Neb, the fellow soon had them snug in a 
basket, and put away in a place of secur- 
ity. The circumstance was mentioned to 
Marble, who, finding no more heavy drags 
to be made, ordered the Sandwich Island- 
ers to take a boat and pass a few hours in 
their reguler occupation, on account of 
the owners—if, indeed, the last had any 
further claim on ourservices. These men 
met with tolerable success, though, rela- 
tively, nothing equal to mine. What, 
- just then, was of far more importance, 
they made a discovery of an arm-chest 
lying on the bottom of the basin, at the 
anchorage of the Crisis, and which had 
doubtless been sunk there by the French. 
We had all La Pauline’s boats but the 
captain’s gig. I went in one of them with 
a gang of hands, and, the divers securing 
a rope to the handles of the chest, we soon 
gotitin. It turned out to be one of the 
arm-chests.of the Crisz7s, which the French 
had found in their way and thrown over- 
board, evidently preferring to use weap- 
ons to which they were accustomed. 
They had done better by carrying the 
chest out to sea, and disposing of it in 
fifty or a hundred fathoms of water. 

The prize was turned over to the gun- 
ner, who reported that it was the chest in 
which we kept our cutlasses and pistols, 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


of, both of which there was a sufficient 
supply to give every man one of each. 
There were also several horns of powder, 
and a bag af bullets; but the first was 
ruined by the water. As for the arms, 
they were rubbed dry, oiled, and put 
away again in the chest, after the last 
had stood a whole day in the hot sun 
open. Thus, through the agency of men 
brought for a very different purpose, we 
were put in possession of the means of 
achieving the exploit, which might now 
be said to form the great object of our 
lives. 

That day we got everything on board 
the schooner that it was thought desirable 
to take with us. We left much behind 
that was valuable, it is true, especially 
the copper; but Marble wisely determined 
that it was inexpedient to put the vessel 
deeper than good ballast-trim, lest it 
should hurt her sailing. We had got her 
fairly to her bearings, and this was be- 
lieved to be as low as was expedient. It 
is true, a great deal remained to be 
stowed; the deck being littered, and the 
hold, the ground tier excepted, in great r 
confusion. But our bread, water, beef, 
pork, and. other eatables, were all there, 
and in abundance; and, though not to be 
had for the asking, they were still to be 
had. The sails were bent, and the only 
anchor, La Pauline’s stream with her 
two largest kedges, was on our bows. 
While in this condition, Marble gave the 
unexpected order for all hands to come 
on board, and for the shore-fasts to be 
cast off. 

Of course, there was no dissenting to 
so positive a command. Wehad signed 
new shipping articles for the schooner, 
extending the engagements made when 
we entered on board the Crisis to this 
new vessel, orany other she might cap- 
ture. The wind was a steady trade, and 
when we showed our mainsail and jib to 
it, the little craft glided athwart the basin 
like a duck. Shooting through the pass, — 
Marble tacked her twice, as soon as he ~ 
had an offing; and everybody was de- — 
lighted with the quickness with which she 
was worked. There was barely light — 
enough to enable us to find our way 


northeast trades, on a bowline. 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


through the opening in the reef; and 
just thirty-eight hours after the Crisis 
sailed, we were on her track. We had 
only conjecture to guide usas to the ship’s 
course, with the exception of the main 
fact of her having sailed for the west 
coast of South America; but we had not 
failed to notice that she disappeared in the 
We put 
the schooner as near as possible on the 
same course, making a proper allowance 
for the difference in the rig of the two 
vessels. 

The distance run that night satisfied 
us all that Monsieur Le Compte was a 
good draftsman. The schooner ran one 
hundred and six miles in twelve hours, 
against a very respectable sea, which was 
at least ten or fifteen more than the 
Crisis could have done under the same 
circumstances. It is true, that what was 
close-hauled for her, was not close-hauled 
for us; and, in this respect, we had the 
advantage of her. Marble was so well 
pleased with our night’s work, that when 
he came on deck next morning, the first 
thing he did was to order a bottle of 
rum to be brought him, and then all 
hands were to be called. As soon as 


‘the people were up, he went forward, got 


into the head, and commanded everybody 
to muster on the forecastle. Marble now 
made a speech. 

““We have had some good, and some 
bad luck this v’y’ge, men,’’ he said; ‘‘and 
when we generalize on the subject, it will 
be found that good luck has usually 
followed the bad luck. Now the savages, 
with that blackguard Smudge, knocked 
poor Captain Williams in the head, and 
threw him overboard, and got the ship 
from us; then came the good luck of get- 
ting her back again. After this, the 
French did us that unhandsome thing ; 
now here comes the good luck of their 


- leaving us a craft that will overhaul the 


aly ie 
ee ere 


ship, when I needn’t tell you what. will 
come of it.” Here all hands, as in duty 
bound, gave three cheers. ‘‘Now I 
neither sail nor fight in a craft that 
carries a French name. Captain Count 
christened the schooner the—Mr. Wal- 
lingford, will you tell her exact name ? ”’ 


acl 


‘La Belle Emilie,’ said I, ‘‘or the 
Beautiful Emily.”’ 

‘* None of your belles for me, nor your 
Beautiful Emilys either,’’ cried Marble, 
smashing the bottle over the schooner’s 
nose; ‘‘so here goes three cheers again 
for the Pretty Poll, which was the name 
the craft was born to, and the name she 
shall bear, as long as Moses Marble sails 
her.’ 

From that moment the schooner was 
known by the name of the Pretty Poll. 
I met with portions of our crew years 
afterward, and they always spoke of her 
by this appellation ; sometimes familiarly 
terming her the Poll or the Polly.”’ 

All the first day out, we were busy in 
making ourselves comfortable, and in get- 
ting the Polly’s trim. We succeeded so 
well in this last, that, according to our 
calculations, we made a knot an hour 
more than the Crisis could have done 
under the same circumstances, fast as 
the ship was known to be. As the Crisis 
had about thirty-eight hours the start of 
us, and ran, on an average, about seven 
knots the hour for all that time, it would 
require about ten days to overtake her. 
Of course this could only happen, ac- 
cording to our own calculations, when 
we were from eighteen hundred to two 
thousand miles from the island. For my 
own part, I sincerely hoped it would not 
occur at all, at sea; feeling satisfied our 
only chances of success depended on sur- 
prise. By following the vessel into some 
port it might be possible to succeed; but 
for an unarmed schooner to attack a ship 
like the Crisis, with even a large crew on 
board, it seemed rashness to think of it.. 
Marble, however, would not listen to my 
remonstrances. He insisted we had more 
than powder enough to load all our pistols 
half a dozen times each, and, laying the 
ship plump aboard, the pistols would do 
the rest. I was silenced, quite as a mat- 
ter of course, if not convinced. 

The fifth day out, Neb came to me, 
saying—‘‘ Master Miles, somet’ing must 
be done wid ’em ’ere ’ysters! Dey smell, 
onaccountable ; and the people swear dey 
will t’row ’m overboard, if I don’t eat 
’em. Inot hungry enough for dat, sir.”’ 


372 


These were the pearl oysters, already 
mentioned, which had been hastening to 
dissolution and decomposition, by the 
heat of the hold. As the captain was as 
much concerned in this portion of the car- 
go aS Il was myself, I communicated the 
state of things to him, and he ordered the 
bags and barrels on deck forthwith. It 
was well something was done, or 1 doubt 
not a disease would have been the conse- 
quence. As decomposition was the usual 
process by which to come at the treasures 
of these animals, however, everything 
was exactly in the state we wished. 

An uninterested observer would have 
laughed at seeing the employment of the 
quarter-deck for the next four hours. 
Marble, and the two mates, attacked a 
barrel belonging to the captain, while 
Neb and I had our own share to ourselves. 
It was a trying occupation, the odor far 
exceeding in strength that of the Spice 
Islands. We stood it, however—for what 
will not man endure for the sake of riches ? 
Marble foresaw the difficulties and had at 
once announced to the mates that they 
then would ‘‘ open on shares.’’ This had 
a solacing influence, and amid much mirth 
and sundry grimaces the work went on 
with tolerable rapidity. J observed, how- 
ever, that Talcott threw one or two sub- 
jects, that doubtless were tougher than 
common, overboard, after very superficial 
examinations. 

The first seven oysters I examined con- 
tained nothing but seed pearl, and not 
many of these. Neb opened, and I exam- 
ined; and the latter occupation was so 
little to my taste, that I was just on the 
point of ordering the whole lot thrown 
overboard, when Neb handed me another. 
This oyster contained nine beautiful pearls, 
of very uniform dimensions, and each about 
as large as a good-sized pea. I dropped 
them into a bowl of fresh water, whence 
they came out sweet, pearly, and lustrous. 
They were of the sort known as the 
‘“‘white water,’’ which is the kind most 
prized among Christian nations, doubtless 
on account of their harmonizing so well 
with the skins of their women. No sooner 
was my luck known, than it brought all 
the other ‘‘ pearl fishermen ”’ around me ; 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


Marble, with his nostrils plugged with 
oakum and a quid of tobacco in his mouth 
that was as large as a small potato. 

*« By George, Miles, that looks like busi- 
ness,’’ the captain exclaimed, going back 
to his work, with renovated zeal, ‘‘ though 
it is a calling fit only for hogs and scaven- 
gers ! Did I embark in it largely, I would 
keep as many clerks as a bank. What do 
you suppose, now, these nine caps may be 
worth ? ”’ 

“‘Some fifty dollars, or thereabouts— 
you see, sir, they are quite large—much 
larger than it is usual to see our women 
wear.’ 

The ninth of my oysters produced eleven 
pearls, and all about the size and quality 
of the first. In afew minutes I had sev- 
enty-three just such pearls, beside a quan- 
tity of seed pearl. Then followed a suc- 
cession of barren shells, a dozen not giving 
a pearl. The three that succeeded them 
gave thirty-one more ; and another yielded 
four pearls, each of which was as large as 
a small cherry. After that I got one that 
was almost as large as a common hickory- 
nut, and six more of the size of the cher- 
ry-sized pearls. In addition to these, I 
got, in all, one hundred and eighty-seven 
of the size of peas, besides a large hand- 
ful of the seed pearl. I afterward as- 
certained that the pearls I had thus ob- 
tained were worth, in the market, about 
eighteen hundred dollars; as they were 


far more remarkable for their beauty than 


for their size. ? 
Nothwithstanding the oakum plugs, 
and the tobacco, and the great quantity 
of shells his divers had found, for they had 
brought up something like two hundred 
and fifty oysters in the course of the day, 
the party of the captain found in all but 
thirty-six pearls, the seed excepted ; 
though they obtained some _ beautiful 
specimens among the shells. From that 
moment Marble discontinued the trade, 
and I never heard him say anything more 
on the subject of pursuing it. My own 
beauties were put carefully away in re- 
serve for the time when I might delight 
the eyes of certain of my female friends 
with them. I never intended to sell one, 
but they were very precious to me on 


; 


Zt 


a 
\b 


- comfortable shipmates. 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


other accounts. As for the crew, glad 
enough were they to be rid of such un- 
As I gazed on 


_ the spotless and lustrous pearls, and com- 
pared them with the revolting tenement 


from which they had just been redeemed, 
I likened them to the souls of the just 
escaping from their tenements of clay, to 
enjoy hereafter an endless existence of 
purity. 

In the meantime, the Pretty Poll con- 
tinued to find her way along miles and 
miles of the deserted track across the 
Pacific. Marble had once belonged to a 
Baltimore clipper, and he sailed our craft 
probably much better than she would 
have been sailed by Monsieur Le Compte, 
though that officer, as | afterward learned, 
had distinguished himself in command of 
a lugger-privateer in the British Channel. 
Our progress was generally from a hun- 
dred and fifty to two hundred and twenty 
miles in twenty-four hours; and so it con- 
tinued to be for the first ten days, or the 


_ period, when, according to our own calcu- 


lations, we ought to be near the Crisis, 
had that vessel steered a course resem- 
bling our own. For my own part, I 
neither wished nor expected to see the 
ship until we reached the coast of South 
America, when we might ascertain her 
position by communicating with the shore. 
As for the guarda-costas, I knew we could 
easily elude them, and there might be a 
small chance of regaining the vessel, some- 
thing like the way in which we had lost 
her. But Marble’s impatience, and the 
keenness with which he felt our disgrace, 
would not make terms even with the eie- 
ments; and I do believe he would have 
run alongside of the Crisis in a gale of 
wind, could he have come up with her. 
The chance of our having sailed so far, 
however, on a line so nearly resembling 
that of the chase as to bring us together, 
was so very small that few of us thought 
it worth our consideration. 

On the morning of the eleventh day, the 
lookout we had kept on the fore-topsail- 
yard, sung out ‘‘Sail ho!’’? Marble and 
myself were soon on the yard, there being 
nothing visible from the deck. The upper 
sails, topgallant-sails, and royals of the 


373 


ship were visible on our weather quarter, 
distant from fifteen to twenty miles. As 
we were now in the track of whalers, of 
which there were a good many in that 
part of the Pacific, I thought it was prob- 
able this was one; but Marble laughed at 
the notion, asking if I had ever heard of 
a whaler’s carrying royals on her cruising 
ground. He affirmed it was the Crisis, 
heading the same way we were ourselves, 
and which had only got to windward of 
us by keeping a better luff. We had cal- 
culated too much on the schooner’s weath- 
erly qualities, and had allowed her to fall 
off more than was necessary in the night- 
watches. 

The Pretty Poll was now jammed up on 
a wind, in the hope of closing with the 
chase in the course of the night. But the 
wind had been growing lighter and lighter 
for some hours, and by noon, though we 
had neared the chase so much as to be 
able to see her from deck, there was every 
prospect of its falling calm; after which, 
in the trades, it would be surprising if we 
did not get a blow. To make the most of 
our time, Marble determined to tack, when 
we had just got the chase a point off our 
weather-bow. An hour after tacking, an 
object was seen adrift on the ocean, and 
keeping away a little to close with it, 
it was ascertained to be a whale-boat 
adrift. The boat was American-built, 
had a breaker of water, the oars and all 
the usual fittings in it; and the painter 
being loose, it had probably been lost, when 
towing in the night, in consequence of 
having been fastened by three half-hitches. 

The moment Marble ascertained the 
condition of this boat, he conceived his 
plan of operations. The four Sandwich 
Islanders had been in whalers, and he 
ordered them into the boat, put in some 
rum and some food, gave me his orders, 
got in himself, and pulled ahead, going 
off at five knots the hour, leaving the 
schooner to follow at the rate of two. 
This was about an hour before sunset, 
and by the time it was dark the boat had 
become a mere speck on tne water, nearly 
half-way between us and the ship, which 
was now some fifteen miles distant, head- 
ing always in the same direction. 


374 WORKS 


OF FENIMORE 


My orders had been very simple. They | now be seen. The orders left by Marble 


COOPER. 


were, to stand on the same course until I | anticipated no such occurrence as this — 


saw a light from the boat, and then tack 
so.as to run on a parallel line with the 
ship. The signal was made by Marble 
about nine o’clock. It was immediately 
answered from the schooner. The light 
on the boat was concealed from the ship, 
and our own was shown only for a few 
seconds, the disappearance of Mr. Mar- 
ble’s telling us in that brief space that 
our answer was noted. I tacked immedi- 
ately, and taking in the foresail, stood on 
the direct course. We had all foreseen a 
change in the weather, and probably a 
thunder-squall. So far from its giving 
Marble any uneasiness he anticipated the 
blow with pleasure, as he intended to lay 
the Crisis aboard in its height. He fan- 
cied that success would then be the most 
certain. His whole concern was at not 
being, able to find the ship in the darkness, 
and it was to obviate this difficulty that 
he undertook to pilot us up to her in the 
manner I have just mentioned. 

After getting round, a sharp lookout 
was kept for the light. We caught an- 
other view of it directly on our weather- 
beam. From this we inferred that the 
ship had more wind than we felt, inas- 
much as she had materially altered her 
position, while we had not moved a mile 
since we tacked. This was on the suppo- 
sition that Marble would endeavor to fol- 
low the movements of the ship. At ten 
the tempest broke upon us with tropical 
violence, and with a suddenness that took 
everybody by surprise. A squall had 
been expected, but no one anticipated its 
approach for several hours, and we had 
all looked for the return of the whale-boat 
ere that moment should come. But come 
it did when least expected, the first puff 
throwing our little schooner down in a 
way to convince us the elements were in 
earnest. In fifteen minutes after the first 
blast was felt I had the schooner under a 
reefed foresail, and with that short canvas 
there were instants, as she struggled up 
to the summit of the waves, that it 
seemed as if she were about to fly out of 
the water. My great concern, however, 
was for the boat, of which nothing could 


tempest, and the concert between us — 
was interrupted. It was naturally in- — 
ferred among us, in the schooner, that the 
boat would endeavor to close as soon as 
the danger was foreseen; and as this | 
would probably be done by running on a 
converging line, all our efforts were di- 
rected to keeping the schooner astern of 
the other party, in order that they might — 
first reach the point of junction. In this — 
manner there was a chance of Marble’s 
finding the schooner, while there was little 
of our finding the boat. It is true we 
carried several lights, but as soon as it 
began to rain even a bonfire would not 
have been seen at a hundred yards. The 
water poured down upon us, as if it fell 
from spouts, occasionally ceasing and then — 
returning in streams. 
I had then never passed so miserable a 


fellows murdered Captain Williams and 
seized the ship being happiness in com- 
parison. i loved Marble. Hardy, loose — 
in some respects, and unnurtured as he ~ 
was in others, the man had been steadily — 
my friend. He was a capital seaman, a — 
sort of an instinctive navigator, true as — 
a needle to the flag, and as brave as a 
lion. Then I knew he was in his present 
strait on account of mortified feeling, and 
the rigid notions he entertained of his duty 
to his owners. I think I do myself no 
more than justice, when I say that I~ 
would gladly have exchanged places with 
him auy time that night. ‘4 
We held a consultation on the quarter- — 
deck, and it was determined that our only — 
chance of picking up the boat was by re- — 
maining as nearly as possible at the place — 
where her crew must have last seen the — 
schooner. Marble had a right to expect 
this, and we did all that lay in our power 
to effect the object, wearing often, and 
gaining on our tacks what we lost in com: 
ing round. In this manner we passed a 
painful and most uncomfortable night; _ 
the winds howling about us a sort of re- 
quiem for the dead, while we hardly knew 
when we were wallowing in the seas or 
not, there being so much water that came 


APLOAT AND ASHORE. 


down from the clouds as nearly to drown 
us on deck. 

At last the light returned, and soon 
after the tempest broke, appearing to 
have expended its fury. An hour after 
the sun had risen, we got the trade-wind 
again, the sea became regular once more, 
and the schooner was under all her can- 
vas. Of course, every one of us officers 
was aloft, some forward, some aft, to look 
out for the boat; but we did not see her 
again. What was still more extraordi- 
nary, nothing could be seen of the ship! 
We kept all that day cruising around the 
place, expecting to find at least the boat; 
but without success. 

My situation was now altogether novel 
tome. I had left home rather more than 
a twelvemonth before, the third officer of 
the Orisis. From this station I had risen 
regularly to be her first officer ; and now, 
by a dire catastrophe, I found myself in the 
Pacific, solely charged with the fortunes 
of my owners, and those of some forty hu- 
man beings. And this, too, before 1 was 
twenty years old. 

Marble’s scheme of attacking the ship 
had always seemed to me to be wild and 
impracticable. This was while it was his 
project, not my own. [I still entertained 
the same opinion, as regards. the assault 
at sea; but I had, from the first, regarded 
an attempt on the coast as a thing much 
more likely to succeed. Then Emily and 
her father, and the honor of the flag, and 
the credit I might personally gain, had 
their influence ; and at sunset, all hope 
of finding the boat being gone, I ordered 
sail made on our course. 

The loss of the whale-boat occurred 
when we were about two thousand miles 
from the western coast of South America. 
We had a long road before.us, consequent- 
ly; and, as I had doubted whether the 
ship we had seen was the Crisis, it was 
necessary to be in motion, if anything was 
to be effected with our old enemies. The 
reader may feel some desire to know in 
what manner my succession to the com- 
mand was received by the people. No man 
could have been moreimplicitly obeyed. I 
was, now six feet and an inch in height, 
of a powerful and active frame, a good 


375 


seaman, and had the habit of command, 
through a twelvemonth’s experience. The 
crew knew me, having seen me tried, from 
the weather-earings down; and it is very 
likely I possessed more of their confidence 
than I deserved. At all events, 1 was as 
implicitly obeyed as if 1 had sailed from 
New York at their head. Everybody re- 
gretted Marble ; more, I think, than we re- 
gretted Captain Williams, though it must 
have been on account of the manner we 
saw him disappear, as it might be, from 
before our eyes; since, of the two, I think, 
the last was the most estimable man. 
Nevertheless, Marble had his strong 
points, and they were points likely to take 
with seamen; and they had particularly 
taken with us. As for the four Sandwich 
Islanders, 1 do not know that they occu- 
pied any of our minds at all. We had 
been accustomed to regard them as 
strange beings, who came from that ocean 
to which they had been thus suddenly re- 
turned. 

Fifteen days after the loss of the whale- 
boat we made the peaks of the Andes, a 
very few degrees to the southward of the 
equator. Krom some casual remarks 
made by the French, and which I had 
overheard, 1 had been led to believe they 
intended to run for Guayaquil, or its vicin- 
ity ; and | aimed at reaching the coast 
near the same point. We had been in, 
ourselves, at several, bays and roadsteads, 
moreover, on this part of the shore, on 
our way north; and I felt at home among 
them. We had acquaintances, too, who 
could not fail to be of use to us; and 
everything conspired to render this an 
advantageous landfall. | 

On the evening of the twenty-ninth day 
after quitting the island, we took the 
schooner into an open roadstead, where 
we had carried on some extensive traffic 
in the ship, about eight months before, 
and where I fancied we should still be 
recognized. As was expected, we had 
scarcely anchored, before a Don Pedro 
Something, a fellow with a surprising 
string of names, came off to usin a boat, 
in order to ascertain who we were, and 
what we wanted. Perhaps it would be 
better to say, that we had that he wanted. 


376 


I knew the man at a glance, having de- 
livered to him, myself, three boat-loads of 
goods, and received a small bag of doub- 
loons in exchange. A very few words, 
half English, half Spanish, served to re- 
new our acquaintance; and I gave our 
old friend to understand that I was in 
search of the ship, from which I had been 
separated on some extra duty. 

After beating the bush to discover all 
he could, the Don Pedro gave me to un- 
derstand that a@ ship had gone in behind 
an island that was only ten miles to the 
southward of us, that very afternoon ; 
that he had seen her himself, and had 
supposed she might be his old friend the 
Crisis, until he saw the French ensign at 
her gaff. This was sufficient, and I made 
inquiries for a pilot. A man qualified to 
carry us to the place was found in one of 
the boatmen. As I feared the news of the 
arrival of the schooner might be carried 
to the ship, much as we had got our intel- 
ligence, no time was lost, but we were 
under way by ten o’clock. At midnight 
we entered the pass between the main and 
the island; there I got into a boat, and 
pulled ahead, in order to reconnoitre. I 
found the ship lying close under a high 
bluff, which made a capital lee, and with 
every sign about her of tranquillity. Still, 
I knew a vessel that was always in dan- 
ger from the guarda-costas, and which 
relied on the celerity of its movements for 
its safety, would have a vigilant lookout. 
Accordingly, I took a cool and careful ex- 
amination of the ship’s position, landing 
and ascending the bluff, in order to do 
this at my ease. About two o’clock in 
the morning, I returned to the schooner. 

When I put my foot on the Polly’s deck 
again, she was quite near the point, or 
bluff, having set down toward it during 
my absence. All hands were on deck, 
armed, and in readiness. Expectation 
had got to be so keen that we had a little 
difficulty in keeping the men from cheer- 
ing; but silence was preserved, and I com- 
municated the result of my observations 
in as few words as possible. ‘he orders 
were then given, and the schooner was 
brought under short sail, for the attack. 
We were so near our side of the bluff, 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


7 
0 
“ 


while the ship lay so near the other, that 
my principal apprehension was of falling 
to leeward, which might give the French 
time to muster, and re-collect themselves. 
The canvas, accordingly, was reduced to 
the foresail, though the jib, mainsail, and 
topsail were all loose, in readiness to be 
set, if wanted. The plan was to run the 
ship aboard, on her starboard bow, or off- 
side, as respected the island; and to do 
this with as little of a shock as possible. 

When everything was ready, I went aft, 
stood by the man at the helm, and or- 
dered him to bear up. Neb placed himself 
just behind me. I knew it was useless to 
interfere, and let the fellow do as he 
pleased. The pilot had told me the water 
was deep, up to the rocks of the bluff; and 
we hugged the land as close as possible, in 
rounding the point. At the next moment 
the ship was in sight, distant less than a 
hundred fathoms. I saw we had good 
way, and, three minutes later, I ordered 
the foresail brailed. At the same instant 
I walked forward. So near were we, that 
the flapping of the canvas was heard in 
the ship, and we got a hail. A mystified 
answer followed, and then crash came our 
bows along those of the Crisis. ‘“‘ Hur- 
rah! for the old craft!’’ shouted our 
men, and aboard we tumbled in a body, 
Our charge was like the plunge of a pack 
of hounds as they leap through a hedge. 

The scene that followed was one of wild 
tumult. Some twenty pistols were fired, 
and a good many hard blows were struck ; 
but the surprise secured us the victory. 
In less than three minutes, Talcott came 
to report to me that our lads had complete 
possession of the deck, and that the 
French asked for quarter. At first, the 
enemy supposed they had been seized by a 
guarda-costa, for the impression had been 
general among them that we intended to 
quit the island for Canton. Great was 
the astonishment among them when the 
truth came to be known. I heard a great 
many ‘‘ sacr-r-r-es/’’? and certain other 
maledictions in low French, that it is 
scarcely worth while to repeat. 

Harris, one of the Philadelphians, and 
the man who had got us into the difficulty 
by falling asleep on his watch, was killed; 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 377 


and no less than nine of our men, myself 
among the number, were hurtin this brisk 
business. All the wounds, however, were 
slight; only three of the injuries taking 
the parties off duty. As for the poor fel- 
low who fell, he owed his death to risking 
too much in order to recover the ground 
he had lost. 

The French fared much worse than our- 
selves. Of those killed outright, and 
those who died before morning, there 
were no less than sixteen; our fellows 
having fired a volley into a group that 
was rushing on deck, besides using their 
cutlasses with great severity for the first 
minute or two. This was on the principle 
that the first blow was half the battle. 
There were few wounded; most of those 
who fell being cut or thrust at by several 
at the same time—a species of attack that 
left little chance for escape. Poor Mon- 
sieur Le Compte was found stone-dead at 
the cabin-doors, having been shot in the 
forehead, just as he put his foot on the 
deck. I heard his voice once in the fray, 
and feared it boded no good; but the 
silence which succeeded was _ probably 
caused by his just then receiving the fatal 
bullet. He was in his shirt. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


**1st Witch.—Hail ! 
2d Witch.—Hail! 
3d Witch.—Hail ! 
1st Witch.—Lesser than Macbeth, and greater. 
2d Witch.—Not so happy, yet much happier.” 
—MACBETH. 


I HOPE I shall be believed in saying, if 


_ Marble had been with us when we retook 


the ship, I should have been perfectly 
happy. He was not, however, and regret 
was left to mingle in our triumph. I had 
a hasty interview with Major Merton, 


that night, and+communicated all that 


was necessary to quiet the apprehensions 
of his daughter. Emily was in her state- 
room, and had been alarmed, as a matter 
of course ; but when she learned that all 
was over, and had terminated success- 
fully, her fears yielded to reason. © Of 
course, both she and her father felt it to 


be a great: relief that they were no longer 
prisoners. 

We were no sooner fairly in command 
of our old ship again than I had all hands 
called to get the anchor. We hove up, 
and passed out to sea without delay, it 
being necessary to cover our movements 
with as much mystery as possible, in 
order to prevent certain awkward de- 
mands from the Spanish government, on 
the subject of violation of neutral terri- 
tory. A hint from Major Merton put me 
on my guard as respected this point, and 
I determined to disappear as suddenly as 
we had arrived, in order to throw ob- 
stacles in the way of being traced. By 
daylight, therefore, both the ship and 
schooner were four leagues from the land, 
and on the ‘‘ great highway of nations ; ’’ 
a road, it may be said in passing, that 
was then greatly infested by footpads and 
other robbers. 

Just as the sun rose we buried the dead. 
This was done decently, and with the us- 
ual ceremony, the triumph of victory 
giving place to the sad reflections that 
are so apt to succeed to the excited feel- 
ing of most of our struggles. I saw poor 
Le Compte disappear from sight with re- 
egret, and remembered his recent hopes, 
his generous treatment, his admiration of 
Emily, and all that he had so lately 
thought and felt, as a warning of the 
fragile nature of life, and that which life 
can bestow. Thus terminated an ac- 
quaintance of a month ; but a month that 
had been pregnant with incidents of great 
importance to myself. 

It now became necessary to decide on 
our future course. I had the ship, just as 
the French got her from us, with the ad- 
dition of those portions of their own car- 
go with which they had intended to trade 
on the coast of South America. These 
consisted of silks and various fancy arti- 
cles, with a little wine, and would be near- 
ly as valuable at home as they were in 
Spanish America. I was strongly averse 
to smuggling, and the ship having al- 
ready followed out her original instruc- 
tions on this point, I saw no necessity for 
pursuing the ungrateful trade any further. 
Could I return to the island, and get the 


378 WORKS 
articles of value left on it by the French, 
such as the copper they had not used, and 
divers bales received from the Bombay 
ship, which had been abandoned by us all 
under a tent, more profit would accrue to 
my owners than by any illicit commerce 
we could now possibly carry into effect on 
the coast. 

While Talcott, and the new chief mate, 
and myself, were discussing these points, 
the cry of “‘Sail ho!’ was heard. A 
large ship had suddenly hove up out of 
the morning’s mist, within a mile of us, 
and I thought at first we had got under 
the guns of a Spanish man-of-war. A 
second look at her, however, satisfied us 
all that, though heavy and armed, she 
was merely one of those clumsy traders 
that sailed periodically from the colonies 
to Spain. We went to quarters, and 
cleared ship, but made no effort to avoid 
the stranger. The Spaniards, of the two, 
were the most uneasy, I believe, their 
country being then at war with England ; 
but we spoke each other without coming 
to blows. As soon as the strangers saw 
the American ensign, they expressed a 
wish to communicate with us; and, un- 
willing to let them come on board us, I 
volunteered a visit to the Spanish captain. 
He received me with formal politeness, 
and, after some preliminary discourse, he 
put into my hands some American news- 
papers, which contained a copy of the 
treaty of peace between the United States 
and France. On looking over the articles 
of this new compact, I found that had our 
recapture of the Cris¢s been delayed to 
that very day, at noon, it would have 
been illegal. The two nations, in fact, 
were at peace when the French seized the 
ship, but the customary provisions as to 
captures in distant seas just brought us 
within the saving clauses. Such is war 
and its concomitants. 

In the course of half an hour’s ‘conver- 
sation, I discovered that the Spaniard in- 
tended to touch at Valparaiso, and called, 
in order to get men, his ewn having 
suffered, up the coast, with the small-pox. 
His ship was large, carried a considerable 
armament, and he should not deem her 
safe from the smaller English cruisers, 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


: 


unless he doubled the cape much stronger 
handed than he then was. I caught at 
the idea, and inquired what he thought 
of Frenchmen? They would answer his 
purpose, for France and Spain had a com- 
mon enemy, and nothing would be easier 
than to send the French from Cadiz to 
Marseilles. A bargain was consequently 
struck on the spot. 

When I got back on board the Crisis, 
I had all the prisoners mustered on deck. 
They were made acquainted with the 
offers of the Spanish captain, with the 
fact that peace now existed between our 
respective countries, and with the chance 
that presented itself, so opportunely, for 
them to return home. The proposition 
was cheerfully accepted, anything being 
better than captivity. Before parting, I 
endeavored to impress on the French the 
necessity of prudence on the subject of our 
recapturing the Crists in Spanish waters, 
inasmuch as the circumstance might in- 
duce an inquiry as to what took the ship 
there ; it being well understood that the 
mines were the punishment of those who 
were taken in the contraband trade in 
that quarter of the world. The French 
promised fairly. Whether they kept their 
words I never knew, but, if they did not, 
no consequences ever followed from their — 
revelations. In such a case, indeed, the 
Spanish government would be very apt to 
consider the question one that touched the 
interests of smugglers alike, and to feel 
great indifference between the parties. 
At all events, no complaints were ever 
made to the American government; or, if 
made, they never reached my ears, or 
those of my owners. It is most probable 
nothing was ever said on the subject. 

About noon we had got rid of our prison- 
ers. They were allowed to take away 
with them all their own effects, and as us- 
ually happens in such cases, I make little 
doubt some that belonged to other per- — 
sons. The ships then made sail, each on 
her own course; the Spaniard running 
down the coast, while we spread our stud-— 
ding-sails for the island. As soon as this © 
was done, I felt relieved from a great — 
burden, and had leisure to think of other — 
matters. I ought to mention, however, — 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


- that I put the second mate, or him who 


_ had become chief mate by my own ad- 


_ vancement, in command of the Pretty 
Poll giving him two experienced sea- 


~ men as his own mates and six men to sail 


her. This made Talcott the Crisis’s first 
officer, and glad was I to see him in a 
station a little suited to his attainments. 
That evening, just as the sun was set- 
ting, I saw Emily again, for the first time 
since she had stood leaning over the rail as 
the Crisis shot through the inlet of the 
lagoon. The poor girl was pale, and it 
was evident, while she could not but re- 
joice at her liberation, and her release 
from the solicitations of the unfortunate 
Le Compte, that his death had cast a 
shade of sadness over her pretty features. 
It could not well be otherwise, the female 
breast ever entertaining its sympathies 
for those who submit to the influence of 
its owner’s charms. Then, poor Le 
Compte had some excellent qualities, and 
he treated Emily, as she admitted to me 
herself, with the profoundest respect and 
delicacy. His admiration could scarce be 
an offense in her eyes, however disagree- 
able it proved, in certain points of view. 
Our meeting partook of the character 
of our situation, being a mixture of mel- 
ancholy and happiness. I rejoiced in our 
success, while I regretted Marble, and 
even our late enemies, while the major 
and his daughter could not but remember 
all the gloomy particulars of their late, 
and, indeed, of their present position. 
<“We seem to be kept like Mahomet’s 
coffin, sir,’’ Emily observed, as she looked 
affectionately at her father, ‘‘ suspended 
between heaven and earth—the Indies and 
America—not knowing on which we are 
to alight. The Pacific is our air, and we 
are likely to breathe it, to our heart’s 
- content.’’ 
“True, love—your comparison is not an 
unhappy one. 


while you have come to recover his ship ? ”’ 

I told my passengers of the manner in 
which our old friend had disappeared, and 
inquired if anything had been seen of the 


- 


But, Wallingford, what. 
has become of Captain Marble in these. 
stirring times? You have not left him, 
Sancho-Panza-like, to govern Barritaria, | 


379 


whale-boat, or the schooner, on the night 
of the tropical tempest. 

‘‘ Nothing,’ answered the major. ‘So 
far from expecting to lay eyes on the 
Beautiful Emily, again, we supposed you 
would be off for Canton by the end of 
the fortnight that succeeded our own de- 
parture. At least, that was poor Le 
Compte’s version of the matter. I am 
certain, however, that no sail was seen 
from this ship, during the whole passage; 
nor had we any storm like that you have 
described. More beautiful weather I never 
met at sea.”’ 

Upon this, I sent for the log-book, and 
ascertained, by day and date, that the 
Crisis was not within fifty leagues of the 
spot where we encountered the thunder- 
squall. Of course the ship we saw was a 
stranger ; most probably a whaler. This 
destroyed any little hope that was left 
concerning Marble’s fate. 

But it is time that 1 should mention a 
galanterve of poor Le Compte’s. He was 
well provided with shipwrights — better, 
indeed, than with seamen—as was appa 
rent by the readiness with which'the had 
constructed the schoener. During the 
passage from Marble Land, he had set 
these workmen about building a poop on 
the Crisis’s quarter-deck, and I found the 
work completed. There was a very pretty 
airy cabin, with two staterooms communi- 
cating with light quarter-galleries, and 
everything that is customary with such 
accommodations. Furniture had been 
made, with French dexterity and taste, 
and the paint was just dry to receive it. 
Emily and her father were to take pos- 
session of these new accommodations the 
very day succeeding that in which the 
ship fell again into our hands. This al- 
teration is not such as I would have made 


|as a seaman, and Il wonder Monsieur Le 


Compte, who had the gauntlet to run 
through the most formidable navy in the 
world, should have. ventured on it, since 
it sensibly affected the ship’s sailing on a 
wind. But, now it was peace, I cared lit- 
tle about it, and determined to let it re- 
main, so long, at least, as Miss Merton 
continued on board. | 

That very night, therefore, the major 


380 WORKS 


occupied one of the staterooms, and his 


daughter the other. Imitating poor Le 
Compte’s gallantry, I gave them a sepa- 
rate table, though I took: quite half my 
meals with them, by invitation. Emily 
did not absolutely dress my wound, a 
flesh injury in the shoulder, that office 
falling to her father’s share, who had 
seen a good deal of service, and was famil- 
iar with the general treatment of hurts 
of this nature; but she could, and did, 
show many of those gentle and seductive 
attentions, that the tenderness of her sex 
can alone bestow with full effect on man. 
In a fortnight my hurt was cured, though 
Hmily had specifics to recommend and 
advice to bestow, until we were both 
ashamed to allude to the subject any 
longer. 

As for the passage, it was just sucha 
one as might be expected to occur, in the 
trades of the Pacific. The ship was under 
studding-sails nearly the whole time, 
making, day in and day out, from a hun- 
dred and twenty to two hundred miles in 
the twenty-four hours. The mates kept 
the watches, and I had little to do, but to 
sit and chat with the major and his daugh- 
ter in the cool, airy cabin that Le Compte 
had provided for us; listen to Emily’s 
piano, which had been transferred from 
the prize, and subsequently saved from 
the wreck; or read aloud out of some 
of the two or three hundred beautifully- 
bound and sweetly-scented volumes that 
composed her library. In that day, peo- 
ple read Pope and Young, and Milton, 
and Shakespeare, and that sort of writ- 
ers; a little relieved by Mrs. Radcliffe, 
and Miss Burney, and Monk Lewis, per- 
haps. As for Fielding and Smollett, they 
were well enough in their place, which 
was not a young lady’s library, however. 
There were still more useful books, and I 
believe I read everything in the ship, be- 
fore the voyage ended. The leisure of a 
sea life, in a tranquil, well-ordered vessel, 
admits of much study; and books ought 
to be a leading object in the fitting out 
that portion of a vessel’s equipment which 
relates chiefly to the welfare of her offi- 
cers and crew. 

Time passed pleasantly enough with a 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


young fellow who had certainly some rea- 
son to be satisfied with his own success 
thus far in life, and who could relieve the 
tedium of ship’s duty in such society. I 
cannot say I was in love, though I often 
thought of Emily when she was not be- 
fore my eyes, and actually dreamed of her 
three times in the first fortnight after the 
recapture of the ship. What was a little 
remarkable, as I conceive, I often found 


myself drawing comparisons between her ° 


and Lucy, though I hardly knew why, 
myself. The result was very much after 
this sort—EKmily had vastly the advan- 
tage in all that related to art, instruc- 
tion, training—I am wrong, Mr. Hardinge 
had given his daughter a store of precise, 
useful knowledge, that Emily did not pos- 
sess; and then I could not but see that 
Lucy’s tact in moral feeling was much of 
the highest order of the two. But in 
purely conventional attainments, in most 
that relates to the world, its usages, its 
jinesse of feeling and manner, I could see 
that Hmily was the superior. Had I 
known more myself, I could have seen 
that both were provincial—for England, 


in 1801, was ‘but a province as to mere 


manners, though on a larger scale than 
America is even now—and that either 
would have been remarked for peculiari- 
ties in the more sophisticated circles of 
the continent of Kurope. 
my own countrymen would have preferred 


Lucy’s nature to the more artificial man- 


ner of Emily; but it will not do to say 
that even female deportment, however 
delicate and feminine Nature may . have 
made it, cannot be improved by certain 
general rules for the government of that 
which is even purely conventional. On 
the whole, I wished that Lucy had a little 


I dare say half — 


of Emily’s art, and Emily a good deal — 


more of Lucy’s nature. I suppose the per- 
fection in this sort of thing is to possess 
an art so admirable that it shall appear 
to be nature in all things immaterial, 
while it leaves the latter strictly in the 
ascendant in all that is material. 

In person, I sometimes fancied Emily 
was the superior, and sometimes, when 
memory carried me back to certain scenes 
that had occurred during my last visit to 


o— 
Sa = 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


Clawbonny, that it was Lucy. In com- 


- plexion, and perhaps in eyes, the English 


girl beat her rival, possibly, also, in the 
teeth—though Lucy’s were even and 
white; but in the smile, in the outline of 
the face, most especially in the mouth, and 
in the hands, feet, and person generally, 
I think nine judges in ten would have pre- 
ferred the American. One peculiar charm 
was common to both; and it is a charm, 
though the strongest instance l ever saw 
of it in my life was in Italy, that may be 
said to belong, almost exclusively, to the 
Anglo-Saxon race; I mean that expression 
of the countenance which so eminently be- 
tokens feminine purity and feminine ten- 
derness united ; the look which artists love 
to impart to the faces of angels. Hach of 
the girls had much of this, and I suppose 
it was principally owing to their heavenly 
blue eyes. I doubt if any woman with 
black or hazel eyes, notwithstanding all 
the brilliancy of their beauty, ever pos- 
sessed this charm in the higher degree. 
It belonged to Grace even more than to 
Lucy or Emily; though of the last two I 
think the English girl possessed it in a 
slight degree the most, so far as it was 
connected with mere shading and color, 
while the American exhibited the most of 
it in moments of feeling and emotion. 
Perhaps this last advantage was owing to 
Lucy’s submitting most to nature and 
to her impulses. It must be remembered, 


however, that I had not seen Lucy now 


for near two years, and two of the most 
important years of a young female’s life, 
as respected her personal appearance. 

As relates to character, I will not now 
speak as plainly as I shall be called on to 
do hereafter. A youth of twenty is not 
the best judge of such things, and I shall 
leave events to tell their own story in this 
particular. 

We had been at sea a fortnight, when 


happening to allude to the pearl fishery, I 


bethought me of my own prizes. <A ship 
that carries a numerous crew is a sort of 
ommum gatherum of human employ- 
ments. For ordinarily-manned craft, sea- 
men are necessary; but  ships-of-war, 
privateers, and letters-of-marque, can 
afford, as poor Marble would express it, 


381 


to generalize. We had several tradesmen 
in the Crisis—mechanics, who found the 
restraints of a ship necessary for their 
own good—and, among others, we hap- 
pened to have a goldsmith. This man 
had offered to perforate my pearls, and to 
string them; an operation to which I 
consented. The fellow had performed his 
task as well as could be desired, and sup- 
plying from his own stores a pair of suit- 
able clasps, had formed the whole into a 
simple, but as beautiful a necklace, as I 
ever laid eyes on. He had-put the largest 
pearl of all directly in the center, and 
arranged the remainder, by placing sev- 
eral of the smaller together, separated by 
one of the second size, until the whole 
formed a row that would much more than 
encircle my own neck, and which, of 
course, would drop gracefully round that 
of a female. 

When I produced this beautiful orna- 
ment, one that a woman of rank might 
have coveted, Emily did not endeavor to 
conceal her admiration. Unaccustomed, 
herself, to the higher associations of her 
own country, she had never seen a neck- 
lace of the same value, and she even 
fancied it fit for a queen. Doubtless, 
queens usually possess much more pre- 
cious pearls than those of mine, and yet it 
was to be supposed they would not disdain 
to wear even such as they. Major Mer- 
ton examined the necklace carefully, and 
I could see by his countenance he was 
surprised and pleased. 

On the whole, I think it may be ques- 
tioned, if any other man enjoys as many 
physical advantages, with the same 
means, as the American. I speak more 
of his habits, than of his opportunities ; 
but Iam of opinion, after seeing a good 
deal of the various parts of the world, that 
the American of moderate fortune has 
more physical indulgences than any other 
man. While this is true, however, as a 
whole, there are certain points on which 
he signally fails. He fails offen, when it 
comes to the mere outward exhibition ; 
and it is probable there is not a single 
well-ordered household—meaning for the 
purposes of comfort and representation 
united—in the whole country. The partic- 


382 


ular deficiency, if deficiency it be, applies 
in an almost exclusive degree to the use 
of precious stones, jewelry, and those of 
the more valuable metals in general. The 
ignorance of the value of precious stones 
is so great, that half the men, meaning 
those who possess more or less of fortune, 
do not even know the names of those of 
the commoner sorts. I doubt if one edu- 
cated American in twenty could, even at 
this moment, tell a sapphire from an ame- 
thyst, or a turquoise from a garnet; 
though the women are rather more expert 
as lapidaries. Now I was a true Ameri- 
can in this respect; and while I knew I 
possessed a very beautiful ornament, I had 
not the smallest idea of its value as an 
article of commerce. With the major it 
was different. He had studied such things, 
and he had a taste for them. The reader 
will judge of my surprise, therefore, when 
I heard him say: 

«That necklace, in the hands of Rundle 
and Bridges, would bring a thousand 
pounds, in London !”’ 

‘Father !’’ exclaimed Kmily. 

‘“‘T do think it. It is not so much the 
size of the pearls, though these largest 
are not common even in that particular, 
but it is their extreme beauty ; their color 
and transparency—their water, as it is 
called.’’ 

J] thought that a term applied only to 
diamonds,’’ observed Emily, with an inter- 
est I wished she had not manifested. 

“Tt is also applied to pearls—there are 
pearls of whatis called the ‘white water,’ 
and they are of the sort most prized in 
Kurope. The ‘yellow water’ are more 
esteemed among nations of darker skins ; 
I suppose that is the secret. Yes, I think 
if you send this necklace to London, Wall- 
ingford, you will get six or eight hundred 
pounds for it.”’ 

‘7 shall never sell it, sir—at least, not 
as long as I can avoid it.’’ 

I saw that Emily looked at me, with an 
earnestness for which I could not ac- 
count. . 

‘*Not sell it!’ repeated her father. 
‘Why, what in the name of Neptune can 
you do with such an ornament ?”’ 

‘Keep it.. It is strictly my own. I 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


brought it up from the bottom of the sea 
with my own hands; removed the pearls 
from what the editors would call their 
‘native home’ myself, and I feel an inter- 
est in them that I never could feel in any 
ornament that was purchased.’’ 

“Still, this will prove rather an expen- 
sive taste. Pray, what interest do you ob- 
tain for money, in your part of the world, 
Wallingford ? ’’ 

‘‘Six per cent., in New York, sir, per- 
haps on the better sort of permanent 
securities.’’ 

‘* And how much is sixty pounds ster- 
ling, when turned into dollars?’ 

“We usually say five for one, though 
it is not quite that; from two hundred 
and eighty to two hundred and ninety, all 
things considered—though two hundred 
and sixty-six, nominally, or thereabouts.”’ 

““ Well, even two hundred and sixty-six 
dollars a year is a good deal for a young 
man like you to pay for the pleasure of 
saying he owns a pearl necklace that he 
cannot use.’ 

‘But it costs me nothing, sir, and of 
course I can lose nothing by it.”’ 

‘‘T rather think you will lose what I tell 
you, if the ornament can be sold for that 
sum. When a man has property from 
which he might derive an income, and 
does not, he is, in one sense, and that the 
most important, a loser.”’ 

‘‘T have asister, Major Merton; I may 
possibly give it to her—or, should I marry, 
I would certainly give it to my wife.’’ 

I could see a smile struggling about the 
mouth of the major, which I was then too 
young, and I may add, too American, to 
understand. The incongruity of the wife 
of a man of two thousand, or, five-and- 
twenty hundred dollars a year wearing 
two years’ income round her neck, or of 
being magnificent in only one item of her 
dress, household, or manner of living, 
never occurred to my mind. We can all 
laugh when we read of Indian chiefs wear- 
ing uniform coats and cocked hats, with- 
out any other articles of attire; but we 


cannot imagine inconsistencies in our own 


cases, that are almost as absurd in the 
eyes of highly sophisticated and conven- 


tional usages. To me, at that age, there — 


7 


APLOUAT AND ASHORE. 


was nothing in the least out of the way 
in Mrs. Miles Wallingford’s wearing the 
necklace, her husband being unequivo- 
cally its owner. As for Kmily, she did 
not smile, but continued to hold the neck- 
lace in her own very white, plump hand, 
the pearls making the hand look all the 
prettier, while the hand assisted to in- 
crease the luster of the pearls. I ven- 
tured to ask her to put the necklace on 
her neck. She blushed slightly, but she 
complied. 

““Upon my word, Emily,’’ exclaimed 
the gratified father, ‘‘ you become each 
other so well that I am losing a prejudice, 
and begin to believe even a poor man’s 
daughter may be justified in using such 
an ornament.’’ 

The sight was certainly sufficient to 
justify anything of the sort. The daz- 
zling whiteness of Miss Merton’s skin, the 
admirable outlines of her throat and bust, 
and the flush which pleasure gave her 
cheeks, contributed largely to the beauty 
of the picture. It would have been diffi- 
cult to say whether the charms of the 


- woman ornamented the pearls, or those 


of the pearls ornamented the woman! I 
remember I thought, at the time, my 
eyes had never dwelt on any object more 
pleasing than was Miss Merton during the 
novelty of that spectacle. Nor did the 
pleasure cease on the instant; for | 
begged her to continue to wear the neck- 
lace during the remainder of the day—a 
request with which she had the good nat- 
ure to comply. Which was most grati- 
fied by this exhibition, the young lady or 
myself, it might be difficult to say; for 
there is a mutual satisfaction in admiring 
and in being admired. 

When I went into the cabin to say good- 
night, 1 found Emily Merton, with the 
necklace in her hand, gazing at it by the 
light of a powerful lamp, with eyes as 
liquid and soft asthe pearls themselves. I 
stood still to admire her, for never before 
had I seen her so bewitchingly beautiful. 
Her countenance was usually a little want- 
ing in intellectual expression, though it 
possessed so much of that which I have 
described as angelic ; but, on this occa- 
sion, it seemed tome to be full of ideas. 


383 


Can it be possible, whispered conceit— 
and what very young man is entirely free 
from it ?—can it be possible she is now 
thinking how happy a woman Mrs. Miles 
Wallingford will one day be? Am [I in 
any manner connected with that meditat- 
ing brow, that reflecting air, that fixed 
look, that pleased and yet doubting ex- 
pression ? 

“I was about to send for you, Cap- 
tain Wallingford,’’? said Emily, the in- 
stant she saw me, and confirming my 
conceited conjectures, by blushing deeper 
than I had seen her before, in the whole 
of that blushing, sensitive, and enjoy- 
able day; “‘ about to send for you to take 
charge of your treasure.”’ 

** And could you not assume that much 
responsibility for a single night ? ”’ 

«’T would be too great—it is an honor 


reserved for Mrs. Wallingford, you 
know.”’ 
This was smilingly said, I fancied 


sweetly and kindly, and yet it was said 
not altogether without something that 
approached to equivoque ; a sort of man- 
ner that the deep natural feeling of Grace, 
and needle-like truth of Lucy, had ren- 
dered unpleasant to me. I took the neck- 
lace, shook the young lady’s hand for 
good-night—we always did that, on meet- 
ing and parting for the day—paid my 
compliments to the father, and withdrew. 

Il was dressing next morning, when 
Neb came bolting into my stateroom, 
with his Clawbonny freedom of manner, 
his eyes looking like lobsters, and his 
necklace of pearl, glittering between a 
pair of lips that might have furnished a 
cannibal two famous steaks. As soon as 
fairly established in command, I had 
brought the fellow aft, berthing him 
in the steerage, in order to have the 
benefit of more of his personal service 
than I could obtain while he was ex- 
clusively a foremast Jack. Still, he kept 
his watch; for it would have been cruel 
to deprive him of that pleasure. 

‘‘Oh! Masser Mile!’’ exclaimed the 
black, as soon as he could speak; ‘‘’e 
boat—’e boat !”’ 

“What of the boat? 
board ? ”’ 


Is any one over- 


384 WORKS 


“°K whale-boat, sir!—poor Captain 
Marble—’e whale-boat, sir ! ”’ 

“‘T understand you, Neb—go on deck, 
and desire the officer of the watch to 
heave-to the ship, as soon as it is proper; 
I will come up the instant I can.’’ 

Here, then, I thought, Providence has 
brought us on the track of the unfortu- 
nate whale-boat ; and we shall doubtless 
see the mutilated remains of some of our 
old companions—poor Marble, doubtless, 
from what Neb said—well, the will of God 
be done. I was soon dressed; and, as I 
went up the cabin ladder, the movement 
on deck denoted the nature of the excite- 
ment that now prevailed generally in the 
ship. Justas I reached the quarter-deck, 
the mainyard swung round, and the sails 
were brought aback. The whole crew 
was in commotion, and it was some little 
time before I could learn the cause. 

The morning was misty, and the view 
round the ship, until within a few minutes, 
had been confined to a circle of less than 
a mile in diameter. As the sun rose, how- 
ever, the mist broke away gradually, and 
then the watch caught a view of the 
' whale-boat mentioned by Neb. Instead 
of being floating about on the ocean, with 
the remains of its unfortunate crew lying 
in its bottom, as [ had expected to see it, 
when I caught the first glimpse of the 
unlooked-for object it was not a mile dis- 
tant, pulling briskly for us, and contain- 
ing not only a full but a strong and an 
animated crew. 

Just at that instant, some one cried 
out ‘Sail ho!’? and sure enough, a ship 
Was seen some four or five miles to lee- 
ward, a whaler evidently, turning to wind- 
ward, under easy canvas, in order to re- 
join her boat, from which she had lately. 
been separated by the night and the fog. 
This, then, was no more than a whaler 
and her boat; and, on sweeping the hori- 
zon with a glass, Talcott soon discovered, 
a mile to windward of the boat, a dead 
whale, with another boat lying by it, in 
waiting for the approach of the ship, which 
promised to fetch as far to windward, on 
its next tack. 

‘““They desire to speak to us, I sup- 

pose, Mr. Talcott,’? I remarked. ‘The 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


ship is probably an American; “it is 
likely the captain is in the boat, and he 
wishes to send letters or messages home.’’ 

A. shout came from Talcott, at the next 
instant—then he cried out— 

‘“Three cheers, my lads; I see Captain 
Marble in that boat, as plainly as I see 
the boat itself ! ’’ 

The cheers that followed were a spon- 
taneous burst of joy. They reached the 
approaching boat, and gave its inmate an 
earnest of his reception. In three more 
minutes, Marble was on the deck of his 
old ship. For myself, I was ‘unable to 
speak; nor was poor Marble much better 
off, though more prepared for the inter- 
view. 

““T knew you, Miles; I knew you and 
the bloody Pretty Poll, he at last got 
out, the tears running down his cheeks 
like water, ‘‘the moment the fog lifted, 
and gave me a fair glimpse. They’ve got 
her—yes—d—n her—God bless her, I 
mean—they’ve got her, and the bloody 
Frenchmen will not go home ‘with that 
feather in their caps. Well, it couldn’t 
have happened to a cleverer fellow; and 
I’m just as happy as if I had done it 
myself !”’ 

There he stood, sound, safe, and sturdy 
as ever; and the four Sandwich Islanders 
were all in the boat, just as well asif they 
had never quitted the ship. HKvery man 
of the crew had to shake hands with Mar- 
ble, congratulations were to be exchanged, 
and a turbulent quarter of an hour passed 
before it was possible to get a coherent 4 
account from the man of what had befall- 
enhim. As soon as practicable, however, 
he motioned for silence, and told his own 
story aloud for the benefit of all hands. 

‘*You know how Ileft you, men,’’ Mar- — 
ble commenced, swabbing his eyes and 
cheeks, and struggling to speak with 
something like an appearance of compos- 
ure, ‘‘and the errand on which I went. 
The last I saw of you was about half an 
hour before the gust broke. At that 
time I was so near the ship as to make 
out she was a whaler ; and, nothing doubt- — 
ing of being in sight of you in the morn- 
ing, I thought it safer to pull alongside of | 
her, than to try to hunt for the schooner 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


in the dark. I found an old shipmate in 
the whaler’s captain, who was looking for 
a boat that had struck adrift the night 
before; and both parties were pleased. 
There was not much time for compliments 
however, as you all know. The ship bore 
up to speak you, and then she bore up, 
again, and again, on account of the 
squalls. While Mr. Wallingfod was prob- 
ably hugging the wind in order to find me, 
we were running off to save our spars; 
and next morning we could see nothing 
of you. How else we missed each other 
is more than I can say; for I’ve no idee 
you went off and left me out here, in 
the middle of the ocean 4 

«‘ We cruised for you, within five miles 
of the spot, for a whole day:”’ I ex- 
claimed, eagerly. 

“No, no, Captain Marble,’’ the men 
put in, in a body, “we did allthat men 
could do, to find you.’’ 

‘7 know it! I could swear to it, with- 
out a word from one of you. Well, that’s 
the whole story. We could not find you, 
and | stuck by the ship as a matter of 
course, as there was no choice between 
that and jumping overboard; and here 
has the Lord brought us together again, 
though we are every inch of five hundred 
miles from the place we parted.”’ 

I then took Marble below, and related 
to him all that had occurred since the 
separation. He listened with the deepest 
interest, manifesting the strongest sym- 
pathy inour success. Nothing but expres- 
sions of gratification escaped him, until I 
remarked, as I concluded my account— 

** And here is the old ship for you, sir, 
just as we lost her; and glad Iam to see 
her once more in so good hands.”’ 

‘Who put that bloody poop on her, you 
or the Frenchman, Miles ? ’’ 

‘““The Frenchman. Now it is peace, 
however, itis no great matter; and the 
cabin is very convenient for the major and 
his daughter.”’ 

“<Tt’s just like ’em! Spoiling the neat- 
est quarter-deck on the ocean with a 
bloody supernumerary cabin !”’ 

*‘ Well, sir, as you are naster now, you 
can have it all cut away again if you think 
proper.”’ 

Va d8 


385 


“TI! LIcutaway anything! I take the 
command of this ship from the man who 
has so fairly won it! If Ido, may I be 
d ailiy 

“Captain Marble! You astonish me 
by this language, sir; but it is nothing 
more than a momentary feeling, of which 
your own good sense—nay, even your 
duty to the owners—will cause you to get 
rid.”’ 

“You never were more mistaken in 
your life, Master Miles Wallingford,’’ an- 
swered Marble, solemnly. ‘‘ I thought of 
all this the moment I recognized the ship, 
and that was as soon as I saw her, and 
my mind was made up from that instant. 
I cannot be so mean as to come in at the 
seventh hour, and profit by your courage 
and skill. Besides, I have no legal right 
to command here. The ship was more 
than twenty-four hours in the enemy’s 
hands, and she comes under the usual 
laws of recapture and salvage.”’ 

«But the owners, Captain Marble—re- 
member there is a cargo to be taken in at 
Canton, and there are heavy interests at 
stake.”’ 

‘“By George, that would make me so 
much the more firm. From the first I 
have thought matters would be better in 
your hands than mine; you have an edi- 
cation, and that’s a wonderful thing, 
Miles. As to sailing a ship, or stowing 
her, or taking care of her in heavy 
weather, or finding my way across an 
ocean, [ll turn my back on no man; 
but it’s a different thing when it comes 
to figures and calculations.” 

«‘ You disappoint me greatly in all this, 
sir; we have gone through so much to- 
gether——’’ 

‘«“Wedid not go through the recapture 
of this vessel together, boy.”’ 

‘* But it was your thought, and but for 
an accident, would have been your deed.’’ 

“‘T don’t know that; I have reflected 
coolly in the matter, after I got over my 
mortification ; and I think we should have 
been flogged, had we attacked the French 
at sea. Your own plan was better, and 
capitally carried out. Harkee, Miles, this 
much will I do, and not a jot more. You 
are bound to the island, I take it for 


386 


granted, to pick up odds and ends; and 
then you sail for Canton? ”’ 

‘‘Precisely—I am glad you approve 
of it, as you must by seeing into it so 
readily.”’ 

«¢ Well, at the island, fill up the schooner 
with such articles as will be of no use at 
Canton. Let her take in the copper, the 
English goods, and the like of that, and I 
will carry her home; while you can pursue 
the v’y’ge in the ship, as you alone havea 
_ right to do.”’ 

No arguments of mine could turn Marble 
from his resolution. I.fought him all day 
on the subject, and at night he was put in 
command of the Pretty Poll, with our 
old second mate for his first officer. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


‘‘ Thou shalt seek the beach of sand, 
Where the water bounds the elfin land; 
Thou shalt watch the oozy brine 
Till the sturgeon leaps in the light moon- 

shine.”’ —DRAKE. 


THERE is but a word to say of the 
whaler. We spoke her, of course, and 
parted, leaving her her boat. She passed 
half an hour close to us, and then went 
after her whale. When we lost sight of 
her, she was cutting in the fish, as coolly 
as if nothing had happened. As for our- 
selves, we made the best of our way for 
the island. 

Nothing worth relating occurred during 
the remainder of the passage. We reached 
our place of destination ten days after we 
found Marble, and carried both the ship 
and schooner into the lagoon, without any 
hesitation or difficulty. Everything was 
found precisely as we had left it; two 
months having passed as quietly as an 
hour. The tents were standing, the dif- 
ferent objects lay where they had been 
hastily dropped at our hurried departure, 
and everything denoted the unchangeable 
character of an unbroken solitude. Time 
and the seasons could only have produced 
any sensible alteration. Even the wreck 
had neither shifted her bed, nor suffered 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


to last as any other of the durable things 
around her. 

It is always a relief to escape from the 
confinement of a ship, even if it be only to 
stroll along the vacant sands of some 
naked beach. As soon as the vessels 
were secured, we poured ashore in a body 
and the people were given a _ holiday. 
There was no longer an enemy to appre- 
hend, and we all enjoyed the liberty of 
movement and the freedom from care that 
accompanied our peculiar situation. Some 
prepared lines and commenced fishing ; 
others hauled the seine; while the less 
industriously disposed lounged about, se- 


lected the fruit of the cocoanut tree, or 


hunted for shells—of which there were 
many, and those extremely beautiful, 
scattered along the inner and outer 
beaches, or lying visible just within the 
wash of the water. I ordered two or 
three of the hands to make a collection 
for Clawbonny ; paying them, as a mat- 
ter of course, for their extra services. 
Their success was great, and I still pos- 
sess the fruits of their search, as me- 
morials of my youthful adventures. 
Emily and her maid took possession of 
their old tents, neither of which had been 
disturbed; and I directed that the neces- 
sary articles of furniture should be landed 
for their use. As we intended to remain 
eight or ten days at Marble Land, there 
was a general disposition to make our- 
selves comfortable; and the crew were 
permitted to bring such things ashore as 


they desired, care being had for the neces- — 


sary duties of the ships. Since quitting 


London, we had been prisoners, with the ~ 


short interval of our former visit to this 


place, and it was now deemed wisest to — 
Toall 


give the people a little relaxation. | 
this, I was advised by Marble; who, 


though a severe, and so often seemingly — 
an obdurate man, was in the main dis- — 


posed to grant as much indulgence, at 
suitable moments, an any officer I ever — 
* 


sailed with. ‘There was an ironical sever- 


ity, at. times, about the man, which mis- — 


led superficial observers. I have heard of 
a waggish boatswain in the navy, who, 


when disposed to menace the crew with ~ 
some of his official visitations, used to ery 


injury. There she lay, seemingly an im- 
movable fixture on the rocks, and as likely 


a 


ae: 


a od 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


out, ‘‘ Fellow-citizens, I’m coming among 
you;”’ and the anecdote never recurs to 
my mind without bringing Marble back 
to my recollections. When in spirits, he 
had much of this bitter irony in his man- 
ner; and his own early experience had 
rendered him somewhat insensible to pro- 
fessional suffering ; but, on the whole, I 
always thought him a humane man. 

We went into the lagoon, before the 
sun had risen; and before the breakfast 
hour of those who lived aft, we had every- 
thing landed that was necessary, and were 
in possession of our tents. I had ordered 
Neb to attend particularly to the wants of 
the Mertons; and, precisely as the bell of 
the ship struck eight, which, at that time 
of day, meant eight o’clock, the black 
came with the major’s compliments, in- 
viting ‘“ Captan’” Wallingford and 
““ Qaptaiw”’ Marble to breakfast. 

«*So it goes, Miles,’? added my com- 
panion, after promising to join the party 
in a few moments. ‘‘This arrangement 
about the schooner leaves us both cap- 
tains, and prevents anything like your 
downhill work, which is always unpleasant 
business. Captain Marble and Captain 
_ Wallingford sound well; and I hope they 
may long sailin company. But natur’ or 
art never meant me for a captain.”’ 

‘Well, admitting this, where there are 
two captains, one must outrank the other, 
and thesenior commands. You should be 
called Commodore Marble.”’ 

‘None of your pleasantry, Miles,’’ re- 
turned Marble, with a severe look and 
a Shake of the head; ‘‘itis by your favor, 
and [hope by your good opinion, that I am 
master of even that little, half-blooded, 
part French, part Yankee, schooner. It 
is my second, and I think it will be my last 
command. [ have generalized over my 
life, upon a large scale, within the last ten 
days, and have come to the conclusion 
that the Lord created me to be your mate, 
-and not you to be mine. When natur’ 
means a man for anything partic’lar, she 
doesn’t set him adrift among human 
beings, as I was set adrift.”’ 

*‘T do not understand you, sir—perhaps 
you will give me an outline of your history ; 
and then all will be plain.’’ 


387 


*¢ Miles, oblige me in one particular—it 
will cost you no great struggle, and will 
considerably relieve my mind.”’ 

»* You have only to name it, sir, to be 
certain it will be done.’’ 

‘‘Drop that bloody si, then; its unbe- 
coming now, as between you and me. 
Call me Marble, or Moses; as I call you 
Miles.”’ 

“Well, be itso. Now for this history 
of yours, which you have promised to give 
me, by the way, any time these two 
years.’ 

‘‘It can be told ina few words; and I 
hope it may be of service. A human life, 
properly generalized on, is at any time 
as good as most sermons. It is full of 
what I call the morality of idees. I sup- 
pose you know to what I owe my 
names ? ”’ 

‘Not I—to your sponsors in baptism, 
like all the rest of us, I suppose.”’ 

‘*You’re nearer the truth than you im- 
agine, this time, my boy. I was found, a 
child of a week old they told me, lying in 
a basket, one pleasant morning, in a stone- 
cutter’s yard, on the North River side of 
the town, placed upon a bit of stone that 
was hewing out for the head of a grave, 
in order, as [ suppose, that the workmen 
would be sure to find me when they mus- 
tered at their work. Although I have 
passed for a down-easter, having sailed in 
their craft in the early part of my life, I’m 
in truth York born.”’ 

«‘ And is this all you know of your ori- 
gin, my dear Marble ? ” 

«* All I want to know, after such a hint. 
A man is never anxious to make the ac- 
quaintance of parents who are afraid to 
own him. I dare say, now, Miles, that 
you knew, and loved, and respected your 
mother ? ’’ 

‘*Love and respect her! I worshiped 
her, Marble; and she deserved it all, if 
ever human being did !”’ 

«‘ Yes, yes; I can understand that,” 
returned Marble, making a hole in the 
sand with his heel, and. looking both 
thoughtful and melancholy. ‘‘It must be 
a great comfort to love and respect a 
mother! I’ve seen them, particularly 


} young women, that I thought set quite as 


388 WORKS 


much store by their mothers as they did 
by themselves. Well, no matter; I got 
into one of poor Captain Robbins’s bloody 
currents at the first start, and have been 
drifting about ever since, just like the 
whale-boat with which we fell in, pretty 
much as the wind blew. They hadn’t the 
decency to pin even a name—they might 
have got one out of a novel or a story-book, 
you know, to start a poor fellow in life 
with—to my shirt; no—they just set me 
afloat on that bit of a tombstone, and cast 
off the standing part of what fastened me 
to anything human. There they left me, 
to generalize on the ’arth and its ways to 
my heart’s content.”’ 

«¢ And you were found next morning, by 
the stonecutter, when he came again, to 
use his chisel.’’ 

‘* Prophecy couldn’t have better foretold 
what happened. There I was found, sure 
enough; and there I made my first escape 
from destruction. Seeing the basket, 
which it seems was one in which he had 
brought his own dinner, the day before, 
and forgotten to carry away with him, 
he gave it a jerk to cast away the leav- 
ings, before he handed it to the child who 
had come to take it home, in order that 
it might be filled again, when out I rolled 
on the cold stone. There I lay, as near 
the grave as a tombstone, when I was just 
a week old.’ 

«* Poor fellow—you could only know this 
by report, however. And what was done 
with you ?”’ 

*‘T suppose, if the truth were known, 
my father was somewhere about that 
yard ; and little do I envy the old gentle- 


man his feelings, if he reflected much over 


matters and things. I was sent to the 
almshouse, however; stonecutters being 
nat’rally hard-hearted, I suppose. The 
fact that I was ijeft among such people 
makes me think so much the more that 
my own father must have been one of 
them, or it never could have happened. 
At all events, I was soon rated on the 
almshouse books; and the first thing 
they did was to give me some name. 
1 was No. 19 for about a week; at 
the age of fourteen days I became Moses 
Marbie.”’ 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


‘It was an odd selection that your 
‘sponsors in baptism’ made? ”’ 

‘¢ Somewhat— Moses came from the 
scriptur’s, they tell me; there being a 
person of that name, as I understand, 
who was turned adrift pretty much as I 
was myself.’’ 

“Why, yes—so far as the basket and 
the abandonment were concerned; but 
he was put afloat fairly, and not clapped 
on a tombstone, as if to threaten him with 
the grave at the very outset.”’ 

«‘ Well, Tombstone came very near be- 
ing my name. At first, they thought of 
giving me the name of the man for whom 
the stone was intended; but that being 
Zollickoffer, they thought I never should 
be able to spell it. Then came Tombstone, 
which they thought melancholy, and so 
they called me Marble, consaiting, I sup- 
pose, it would make me tough.”’ 

<« How long did you remain in the alms- 
house, and at what age did you first go 
to sea? ”’ | 

‘‘T stayed among them the public feeds, 
until I was eight years old, and then I 
took a hazy day to cut adrift from char- 
ity. At that time, Miles, our country be- 
longed to the British—or they treated it 
as if it did, though I’ve heard wiser men 
than myself say, 1t was always our own, 
the King of England only happening to be 
our king—but I was born a British sub- 
ject, and being now just forty, you can 
understand I went. to sea several years 
before the Revoiution.”’ 


«‘ True—you must have seen service in ~ 


that war on one side or the other? ’’ 


‘‘If you say both sides, you’ll not be 
out of the way. In 1775, I was a foretop- — 


man in the Romney 50, where I remained 
until I was transferred to the Connecti- 
cut 74——”’ 

‘‘The what?’ said I, in surprise. 
‘‘Had the English a fine-of-battle ship 
called the Connecticut ? ”’ 


««As near as I could make it out; I al- — 


ways thought it a big compliment for 

John Buil to pay the Yankees.”’ 
‘*Perhaps the name of your ship was 

the Carnatic ? The sounds are not un- 

hike.”’ | 

‘Blast me, if I don’t think you’ve hit 


J 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


it, Miles. Well, I’m glad of it, for I run 
from the ship, and I shouldn’t half like the 
thought of serving a countryman such a 
trick. Yes, I then got on board of one of 
our sloops, and tried my hand at settling 
the account with my old masters. I was 
taken prisoner for my pains, but worried 
through the war without getting my neck 
stretched. They wanted to make it out, 
on board the old Jarsey, that I was an 
Englishman, but I told ’em just to prove 
it. Let ’em only prove where I was born, 
I said, and I would give it up. I was 
ready to be hanged if they could only 
prove where I was born. D——e, but I 
sometimes thought I never was born, 
at all.’’ 

«You are surely an American, Marble? 
A Manhattanese, born and educated ? ”’ 

«Why, as it is not likely any person 
_would import a child a week old, to plant 
it on a tombstone, I conclude Iam. Yes, 
I must be that; and I have sometimes 
thought of laying claim to the property 
of Trinity Church, on the strength of my 
birthright. Well, as soon as the war was 
over, and I got out of prison, and that was 
_ shortly after you were born, Captain Wall- 
ingford, I went to work regularly, and 
have been ever since sarving as dickey, 
or chief mate, on board of some craft or 
other. If I had no family bosom to go 
into as a resting-place, I had my bosom 
to fill with solid beef and pork, and that 
is not to be done by idleness.”’ 

‘And all this time, my good friend, 
you have been living, as it might be, 
alone in the world, without a relative of 
any sort?”’ 

«“ Assure as you are there. Often and 
often have I walked through the streets 
of New York, and said to myself, among 
all these people, there is not one that I 
can call a relation. My blood is in no 
man’s veins but my own.”’ 

This was said with a bitter sadness that 
surprised me. Obdurate, and insensible 
to suffering as Marble had ever appeared 
to me, | was not prepared to find him giv- 
ing such evidence of feeling. I was then 
young, but now am old; and one of the 
lessons learned in the years that have 
intervened, is not to judge of men by ap- 


389 


pearances. So much sensibility is hidden 
beneath assumed indifference, so much 
suffering really exists behind smiling 
countenances, and so little does the ex- 
terior tell the true story of all that is to 
be found within, that I am now slow to 
yield credence to the lying surfaces of 
things. Most of all had I learned to con- 
demn that heartless injustice of the world, 
that renders it so prompt to decide, on 
rumors and conjectures, constituting it- 
self a judge from which there shall be no 
appeal, in cases which it has not taken the 
trouble to examine, and in which it had 
not even the power to examine evidence. 

‘We are all of the same family, my 
friend,’’ I answered, with a good design 
at least, ‘“‘though a little separated by 
time and accidents.”’ 

‘‘Hamily ! yes, I belong to my own 
family, ’m a more important man in my 
family than Bonaparte is in his, for lam 
all-in all—ancestors, present time, and 
posterity ! ”’ 

*“Tt is, at least, your own fault you are 
the last; why not marry and have chil- 
dren ?”’ 

‘‘ Because my parents did not set me 
the example,’’ answered Marble, almost 
fiercely. Then clapping his hand on my 
shoulder in a friendly way, as if to soothe 
me after so sharp a rejoinder, he added in 
a gentler tone, ‘‘ Come, Miles, the major 
and his daughter will want their break- 
fasts, and we had better join them. Talk- 
ing of matrimony, there’s the girl for you, 
my boy, thrown into your arms almost 
nat’rally, as one might say.’’ 

‘“‘T am far from being so sure of that, 
Marble,’’ I answered, as both began to 
walk slowly toward the tent. ‘‘ Major 
Merton might not think it an honor, in 
the first place, to let his daughter marry 
a Yankee sailor.’’ 

‘*Not such a one as myself, perhaps; 
but why not one like you? How many 
generations have there been of you, now, 
at the place you call Clawbonny ? ”’ 

‘¢ Four, from father to son, and all of 
us Miles Wallingfords.”’ 

‘«‘“Well, the old Spanish proverb says 
‘it takes three generations to make a 
gentleman ;’ and here you have four to 


390 WORKS 


start upon. In my family, all the genera- 
tions have been on the same level, and I 
count-myself old in my sphere.”’ 

“It is odd that a man like you should 
know anything of old Spanish proverbs !”’ 

“What! Of such a proverb, think 
you, Miles? A man without even a father 
or mother—who never had either, as one 
may say—and he not remember such a 
proverb! Boy, boy, I never forget any- 
thing that so plainly recalls the tomb- 
stone, and the basket, and the almshouse, 
and Moses, and the names!’ 

‘*But Miss Merton might object to the 
present generation,’’ I resumed, willing 
to draw my companion from his bitter 
thoughts, ‘‘however favorably disposed 
her father might prove to the last.”’ 

“That will be your own fault, then. 
Here you have her, out on the Pacific 
Ocean, all to yourself; and if you cannot 
tell your own story, and that ina way to 
make her believe it, you are not the lad I 
take you for.’’ 

I made an evasive and laughing an- 
swer ; but, being quite near the tent by this 
time, it was necessary to change the dis- 
course. The reader may think it odd, but 
that was the very first time the possibil- 
ity of my marrying Emily Merton ever 
crossed my mind. In London, I had re- 
garded her asan agreeable acquaintance, 
with just as much of the coloring of 
romance and of the sentimental about our 
intercourse, aS is common with youths of 
nineteen and girls a little younger; but 
as nothing more. When we met on the 
island, Emily appeared to me like a friend 
—a female friend—and, of course, one to 
be viewed with peculiarly softened feelings; 
still, as only a friend. During the month 
we had just passed in the same ship, this 
tie had gradually strengthened ; and I 
confess to a perfect consciousness of there 
being on board a pretty girl in her nine- 
teenth year, of agreeable manners, deli- 
cate sentiments, and one whose presence 
gave the Crisis a charm she certainly 
never enjoyed during poor Captain Wil- 
liams’s time. Notwithstanding all this, 
there was something—though what that 
something was, I did not then know my- 
selfi—which prevented me from absolutely 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


falling in love with my fair guest. Never- 
theless, Marble’s suggestion was not un- 
pleasant to me; but, on the other hand, 


it rather conduced to the satisfaction of 


my present visit. 
We were kindly received by our hosts, 


who always seemed to remember the com- 


mencement of our acquaintance, when 
Marble and myself visited them together. 


The breakfast had a little of the land 


about it; for Monsieur Le Compte’s gar- 
den still produced a few vegetables, such 
as lettuce, pepper-grass, radishes, etc. ; 
most of which, however, had sown them- 
selves. Three or four fowls, too, that he 


had left on the island in the hurry of his — 
departure, had begun to lay; and Neb 


having found a nest, we had the very un- 
usual treat of fresh eggs. I presume no 


one will deny that they were sufficiently © 


“country laid.”’ 

«*EKmily and myself conaielens ourselves 
as old residents here,’’ the major ob- 
served, as he gazed around him, the table 


being set in the open air, under some trees; 


‘‘and I could almost find it in my heart to 
remain on this beautiful island for the re- 
mainder of my days—quite, I think, were 
it not for my poor girl, who might find 


the society of her old father rather dull 


-work at her time of life.”’ 


‘‘ Well, major,’’ said Marble, ‘‘ you have 
only to let your taste be known, to have 
the choice among all our youngsters to be 
her companion. There is Mr. Talcott, a 
well-edicated and mannerly lad enough, 
and of good connections, they tell me; 
and as for Captain Wallingford here, I 
will answer for ham. 


to be king, or Prince of Wales of this 
island, with such company ! ”’ 


~My life on it, he | 
would give up Clawbonny, and the prop-— 
erty on which heis the fourth of his name, 


Now, it was Marble and. not. | who made 


this speech ; and yet I heartily wished it- 
unsaid. 
dare say it made me look foolish; and_ 
I knew it caused Emily to blush. ‘Pai 
girl ! she, who blushed so easily, and was 


so sensitive, 


and so delicately situated—_ 


It made me _ feel foolish, and la 


she was entitled to have more respect paid 


to her feelings. The major and Marble, 
however, took it all very coolly, continu- 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


391 


ing the discourse as if nothing out of the|of your government, and be ready to 


| way had been said. 

“No doubt—no doubt,’’ answered the 
first; “romance always finds votaries 
| among young poople, and this place may 
well excite romantic feelings in those who 
are older than these young men. Do you 
know, gentlemen, that ever ‘since | have 
known this island, I have had a strong 
desire to pass the remainder of my days 
onit? The idea I have just mentioned to 
you, therefore, is by no means one of a 
moment’s existence.”’ 

“Tam giad, at least, dear sir,” said 
Emily, laughing, ‘‘that the desire has 
-not been so strong as to induce you to 
make formal proposals on the subject.”’ 

«You, indeed, are the great obstacle ; 
for what could Ido with a discontented 
girl, whose mind would be running on 
balls, theaters, and other amusements ? 
We should not have even a church.” 

«© And, Major Merton,”’ I put in, ‘‘ what 
could you, or any other man, do with him- 
self, in a place like this, without compan- 
ions, books, or occupation ? ” 

“Tf a conscientious man, Miles, he 
might think over the past; if a wise 
one, he would certainly reflect on the 
future. I should have books, since Kmily 
and I could muster several hundred vol- 
umes between us; and, with books, I 
should have companions. What could I 

do? Jshould have everything to create, 
as it might be, and the pleasure of seeing 
everything rising up under my own hand. 
There would be a house to construct—the 
materials of that wreck to collect—ropes, 
canvas, timber, tar, sugar, and divers 
other valuables that are still out on the 
reef, or which lie scattered about on the 
beach, to gather together, and save 
against a rainy day. Then I would have 
a thought for my poultry; and possibly 
you might be persuaded to leave me one 
»or two of these pigs, of which I see the 
French forgot half a dozen in their haste 
to cheat the Spaniards. Oh! I should 
live like a prince and be a prince Weim 
in the bargain.” 

“Yes, sir, you would be éltvtaltt and 
all hands, if that would be any gratifi- 
cation; but I think you would soon weary 


abdicate.”’ 

«Perhaps so, Miies ; yet the thought is 
pleasant to me; but for this dear girl, it 
would be particularly so. Ihave very few 
relatives; the nearest I have being, oddly 
enough, your own country people, gentle- 
men. My mother was a native of Boston, 
where my father, a merchant, married 
her; and I came very near being a Yan- 
kee myself, having been born but a week 
after my parents landed in England. On 
my father’s side [ have not five recognized 
relatives, and they are rather distant; 
while those on my mother’s are virtually 
all strangers. Then I never owned a foot 
of this earth on which we live, in my 
life 


‘Nor I,” interrupted Marble, with 
emphasis. 
*““My father was a younger son; and 


younger sons in England are generally 
lack-lands. My life has been such, and, 
I may add, my means such, that I have 
never been in the way of purchasing even 
enough earth to bury me in; and here, 
you see, is an estate that can be had for 
asking. How much land do you fancy 
there is in this island, gentlemen? I 
mean, apart from the beach, the sands, 
and rocks; but such as has grass, and 


bears trees—ground that might be tilled, 


and rendered productive, without much 
labor ?”’ . 

‘¢ A hundred thousand acres,’’ exclaimed 
Marble, whose calculation was received 
with a general laugh. 

‘<Tt seems rather larger to me, sir,”’ I 
answered, ‘than the farm at Clawbonny. 
Perhaps there may be six or eight hun- 
dred acres of the sort of land you mention; 
though the whole island must contain 
several thousands—possibly four or five.”’ 

‘* Well, four or five thousand acres of 
land make a good estate—but, as I see 
Emily is getting frightened, and is nervous 
under the apprehension of falling heir to 
such extensive possessions, I will say no 


/more about. them.”’ 


No more was said, and we finished 
our breakfasts, conversing of the past, 
rather than of the future. The : major 
and Marble went to stroll along the 


392 


groves, in the direction of the wreck; | 


while I persuaded Emily to put on her 
hat, and stroll—the other way. 

“This is a singular notion of my fath- 
er’s,’’? my fair companion remarked, after 
a moment of musing; ‘‘nor is it the first 
time, I do assure you, on which he has 
mentioned it. While we were here before, 
he spoke of it daily.”’ 

‘The scheme might do well enough for 
two ardent lovers,’’ said I, laughing ; 
‘“but would scarcely be wise for an elderly 
gentleman and his daughter. I can im- 
agine that two young people, warmly at- 
tached to each other, might get along in 
such a place for a year or two without 
hanging themselves, but I fancy even love 
would tire out, after a while, and they 
would set about building a boat, in which 
to be off.”’ 

‘You are not very romantic, I per- 
ceive, Mr. Wallingford,’’ Emily answered, 
and I thought a little reproachfully. 
‘“Now, Lown that to my taste I could be 
happy anywhere—here, as well as in Lon- 
don, surrounded by my nearest and dear- 
est friends.’’ 

‘«‘Surrounded! Ay, that would be a 
very different matter. Let me have your 
father, yourself, honest Marble, good Mr. 
Hardinge, Rupert, dear, dear Grace, and 
Lucy, with Neb, and some others of my 
own blacks, and I should ask no better 
home. The island is only in twenty, has 
plenty of shade, some delicious fruits, and 
would be easily filled—one might do here, 
I acknowledge, and it would be pleasant 
to found a colony.’’ 

‘© And who are these people you love so 
well, Mr. Wallingford, that their presence 
would make a desert island pleasant ? ’’ 

‘‘In the first place, Major Merton is a 
half-pay officer in the British service, who 
has been appointed to some civil station in 
India,’’ I answered, gallantly. ‘‘He is a 
respectable, agreeable, well-informed gen- 
tleman, alittle turned of fifty, who might 
act as judge and chancellor. Then he has 
a daughter——”’ 

«‘T know more of her and her bad quali- 
ties than you do yourself, sire ; but who 
are Rupert, and Grace, and Lucy—dear, 
dear Grace especially ? ”’ 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


‘‘Dear, dearest Grace, madam, is my 
sister—my only sister—all the sister I — 
ever can have, either by marriage, or any — 
other means, and sisters PRA usually dear 
to young men, I believe.’ 5 

«¢Well—I knew you had a sister, and a 
dear sister, but I also knew you had but — 
one. Now as to Rupert——”’ 

‘He is not another sister, you may be — 
well assured. I have mentioned to youa 
friend from childhood, who went to sea — 
with me, at first, but, disliking the busi-— 
ness, has since commenced the study of — 
the law.”’ 

‘«‘That, then, is Rupert. I remember 
some such touches of his character, but 
did not know the name. Now, proceed on 
to the next——”’’ 

«What, Neb! You know him almost 
as well as I do myself. He is yonder feed- 
ing the chickens, and will save his pas- — 
sage money.”’ 

‘‘But you spoke of another—that is— 
was there not a Mr.—Hardinge was the 
name, I think? ”’ 

‘Oh! true—I forgot Mr. Hardinge and 
Lucy, though they would be two of the 
most important of the colonists. Mr. 
Hardinge is my guardian, and will con- 
tinue to be so a few months longer, and — 
Lucy is his daughter — Rupert’s sister. 
The old gentleman is a clergyman, and — 
would help us to keep Sunday as one- 
should, and might perform the marriage 
ceremony, Should it ever be required.”’ 

‘*Not much danger of that, 1 fancy, on — 
your desert island—your Barrataria,’’ 
observed Miss Merton, quickly. 

I cannot explain the sensitiveness of 
certain young ladies on such points, un- 
less it be through their consciousness. 
Now, had I been holding this idle talk 
with Lucy, the dear, honest creature 
would have laughed, blushed ever so lit- 
tle, possibly, and nodded her head in 
frank assent; or, perhaps, she would 
have said ‘‘oh! certainly,” in a way to 
show that she had no desire to affect so 
silly a thing as to wish one to suppose she 
thought young people woultl not get mar-— 
ried at Marble Land, as well as Claw-— 
bonny, or New York. Miss Merton 
however, saw fit to change the discourse, | 


— ee oz 


gg MN Ty 8 8. ca asshe 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


_ which soon turned on her father’s health. 
On this subject she was natural and full 
of strong affection. She was anxious to 
- get the major out of the warm latitudes. 
His liver had been touched in the West 
Indies, but he had hoped that he was 
cured, or he never would have accepted 
the Bombay appointment. Experience, 
however, was giving reason to suspect 
the contrary, and Emily wished him in a 
cold climate as soon as possible, and that 
with an earnestness that showed she 
regarded all that had been said about 
the island as sheer pleasantry. We con- 
tinued the conversation for an hour, when, 
returning to the tent, I left my fair com- 
panion with a promise to be as active as 
possible, in order to carry the ship into a 
higher latitude. Still I did not deem the 
island a particularly dangerous place, 
notwithstanding its position; the trades 
and sea breezes, with its ample shades, 
rendering the spot one of the most de- 
lightful topical abodes I had ever been in. 

After quitting Emily, I went to join 
Marble, who was alone, pacing a spot 
beneath the trees, that poor Le Compte 
had worn into a path, and which he had 
himself called his “‘ quarter-deck.”’ 

«¢This Major Merton is a sensible man, 
Miles,” the ex-mate began, as soon as I 
dropped in alongside of him, and joined in 
his semi-trot; ‘“‘a downright, sensible 
sort of a philosopher-like man, accordin’ 
to my notion.” 

«“What has he been telling you, now, 
that has seized your fancy so much 
stronger than common ?”’ 

<“Why, I was thinking of this idee of 
his, to remain on the island, and pass the 
remainder of the v’y’ge here, without 
slaving day and night to get up two or 
three rounds of the ladder of promotion, 
only to fall down again.” 

«And did the major speak of such 
things? I know of no disappointments of 
his to sour him with the world.”’ 

**T was not speaking for Major Merton, 
but for myself, Miles. To tell you the 
truth, boy, this idee seems just suited to 
me, and I have almost made up my mind 
to remain behind here when you sail.” 

I looked at Marble with astonishment ; 


393 


the subject on which the major had 
spoken in pleasantry, rather than with 
any real design of carrying his project 
into execution, was one that my old 
messmate regarded seriously! I had 
noted the attention with which he listened 
to our discourse during breakfast, and 
the strong feeling with which he gpoke 
at the time, but had no notion of the 
cause of either. I knew the man too 
well not to understand at once that he 
was in sober earnest, and had too much 
experience of his nature not to foresee 
the greatest difficulty in turning him 
from his purpose. I understood the true 


motive to be professional mortification at 


all that had occurred since he had suc- 
ceeded Captain Williams in command ; 
for Marble was much too honest and too 
manly, to think for a moment of con- 
cealing his own misfortunes behind the 
mantle offered by my success. 

“You have not thought of this matter 
sufficiently, my friend,’’ I answered, eva- 
sively, knowing the folly of attempting to 
laugh this matter off; ‘‘ when you have 
slept on it a night, you will see things dif- 
ferently.”’ 

‘«‘T fancy not, Miles. Here is all I 
want, and just what I want. After you 
have taken away everything that can be 
required for the vessels, or desirable to 
the owners, there will be enough left to 
keep me a dozen lives.”’ 

“Tt is not on account of food that I 
speak—the island alone, in its fruits, fish, 
and birds, to say nothing as to the seeds, 
and fowls, and pigs we could leave you, 
would be sufficient to keep fifty men; but 
think of the solitude, the living without 
object, the chances of sickness, the horrible 
death that would follow to one unable to 
rise and assist himself, and all the other 
miseries of being alone. Depend on it, 
man was not created to live alone. Soci- 
ety is indispensable to him, and——”’ 

‘‘T have thought of it all, and find it 
entirely to my taste. I tell you, Miles, I 
should be exactly in my sphere in this 
island, and that as a hermit. I do not 
say I should not like some company, if it 
could be yourself, or Talcott, or the major, 
or even Neb: but no company is better 


394 


than bad; and as for asking, or allowing 
any one to stay with me, it is out of the 
question. I did, at first, think of keeping 
the Sandwich Islanders; but it would be 
bad faith, and they would not be likely to 
remain quiet after the ship had sailed. 
No, I will remain alone. You will prob- 
ably report the island when you get home, 
and that will induce some vessel, which 
may be passing near, to look for me, so [ 
shall hear of you all every four or five 
years.”’ 

‘Gracious Heaven! Marble, you can- 
not be serious in so mad a design ?”’ 

‘Just look at my situation, Miles, and 
decide for yourself. 1am without a friend 
on earth—I mean nat’ral friend—I know 
what sort of friend you are, and parting 
with you will be the toughest of all—but 
Ihave not a relation on the wide earth— 
no property, no home, no one to wish to 
see me return, not even a cellar to lay my 
head in. To me all places are alike, with 
the exception of this, which, having  dis- 
covered, I look upon as my own.’’ 

‘“ You have a country, Marble, and that 
is the next thing to family and home— 
overshadows all.”’ 

‘““Ay, and I[’ll have a country here. 
This will be America, having been dis- 
covered by Americans, and in their pos- 
session. You will leave me the buntin’, 
and I’ll show the stars and stripes of a 
4th of July, just as you will show ’em in 
some other part of the world. Iwas born 
Yankee, at least, and I'll die Yankee. 
I’ve sailed under that flag, boy, ever since 
the year ’7', and will not sail under an- 
other, you may depend on it.”’ 

‘‘T never could justify myself to the 
laws for leaving a man behind me in such 
a place.’’ 

«Then I’ll run, and that will make all 
right. But you know well enough, boy, 
that leaving a captain is one thing, and 
leaving a man another.”’ 

** And what shall I tell all your acquain- 
tances, those who have sailed with you so 
often and so long, has become of their old 
shipmate ? ”’ 

**Tell ’em that the man who was once 
found is now lost,’? answered Marble, 
bitterly. ‘But I’m not such a fool as to 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


think myself ofso much importance as you 


seem to imagine. The only persons who 


will consider the transaction of any inter-— 


est will be the newspaper gentry, and they 
will receive it only as news, and thank you 


about half as much as they would for a — 


murder or a robbery, or the poisoning of 


a mother and six little children.’’ 

“I think, after all, you would scarcely 
find the means of supporting yourself,” 
I added, looking round in affected doubt ; 
for I felt at each instant how likely my 
companion was to adhere to his notion, 
and this from knowing him so well. «I 
doubt if the cocoa is healthy all the year 
round, and there must be seasons when the 
trees do not bear.’’ 

‘“‘ Have no fear of that sort. Ihave my 
own fowling-piece, and you will leave mea 
musket or two, with some ammunition. 
Transient vessels, now the island is known, 
will keep up the supply. There are two 
hens setting at this moment, and a third 
has actually hatched. Then one of the 


men tells me there is a litter of pigs near — 


the mouth of the bay. As for the hogs 
and the poultry, the shell-fish and berries 
will keep them ; but there are fifteen hogs- 
heads of sugar on the beach, besides thirty 
or forty more in the wreck, and all above 
water. There are casks of beans and peas, 
the sea-stores of the French, besides lots 
of other things. Ican plant, and fish, and 
Shoot, and make a fence from the ropes of 
the wreck, and have a large garden, and 
all that a man can want. 


there is still a bushel of Indian corn left 


Our own poul- F 
try, you know, has long been out, but 


that was intended for their feed. One — 


quart of that will make me a rich man in 


such a climate as this, and with soil like § 


that on the flat between the two groves. 
I own a chestof tools, and am, ship- 
fashion, both a tolerable carpenter and 
blacksmith; and I do not see that I shall 
want for anything. You must leave half 
the things that are scattered about, and 
so far from being a man to be pitied I shall 
be a man to be envied. Thousands of 
wretches in the greatest thoroughfares 
of London would gladly exchange their 


crowded streets and poverty for my soli- 


tude and abundance. 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


I began to think Marble was not in a 
state of mind to reason with, and changed 
the subject. The day passed in recreation 
as had been intended, and next morning 
we set about filling up the schooner. We 
struck in all the copper, all the English 
goods, and such portions of the French- 
man’s cargo as would be most valuable 
in America. Marble, however, had an- 
nounced to others his determination to re- 
main behind, to abandon the seas, and to 
turn hermit. As his first step, he gave 
up the command of the Pretty Poll, and 1 
was obliged to restore her, again, to our 
old third mate, who was every way com- 
petent to take care of her. At the end of 
the week the schooner was ready, and de- 
spairing of getting Marble off in her, I 
ordered her to sail for home, va Cape 
Horn, giving especial instructions not to 
attempt Magellan. I wrote to the owners, 
furnishing an outline of all that had oc- 
curred, and of my future plans, simply 
remarking that Mr. Marble had declined 
acting, out of motives of delicacy, since 
the recapture of the ship, and that in 
future their interests must remain in my 
care. .With these dispatches the schooner 
sailed. Marble and I watched her until 
her sails became a white speck on the 
ocean, after which she suddenly disap- 
peared. 

As for the ship, she was all ready ; and 
my only concern now was in relation to 
Marble. I tried the influence of Major 
Merton ; but, unfortunately, that gentle- 
man had already said too much in favor 
of our friend’s scheme, in ignorance of its 
effect, to gain much credit when he turned 
round and espoused the other side. The 
arguments of Emily failed also. In fact, 
it was not reason, but feeling that gov- 
erned Marble; and, in a bitter hour, he 
had determined to pass the remainder of 
his days where he was. Finding all per- 
-guasion useless, and the season approach- 
ing when the winds rendered it necessary 
to sail, I was compelled to yield, or resort 
to force. The last I was reluctant to 
think of, nor was I certain the men 
would have obeyed me had I ordered them 
to use it. Marble had been their com- 
mander so long, that he might, at any 


395 


moment, have resumed the charge of the 
ship ; and it was not probable his orders 
would have been braved under any cir- 
cumstances that did not involve illegality 
or guilt. After a consultation with the 
major, I found it necessary to yield to this 
whim, though I did so with greater re- 
luctance than I ever experienced on any 
other occasion. 


ed 


CHAPTER XX. 


‘«‘ Pass on, relentless world! I grieve 
No more for all that thou hast riven! 
Pass on, in God’s name—only leave 
The things thou never yet hast given.”’ 
-LUNT. 


AFTER every means had been uselessly 
exhausted to persuade Marble from his de- 
sign, it only remained to do all we could 
to make him comfortable and secure. Of 
enemies there was no danger, and care 
was not necessary for defense. We got 
together, however, some of the timber, 
planks, and other materials that were re- 
maining at the ship-yard, and built him a 
cabin, that offered much better shelter 
against the tropical storms that some- 
times prevailed than any tent could yield. 
We made this cabin as wide as a plank is 
long, or twelve feet, and some five or six 
feet longer. It was well sided and tightly 
roofed, having three windows and a door. 
The lights of the wreck supplied the first, 
and her cabin door the last. We had 
hinges, and everything that was neces-- 
sary, to keep things in their place. 

There was no chimney required, fire be- 
ing unnecessary for warmth in that cli- 
mate; but the French had brought their 
caboose from the wreck, and this we 
placed under a proper covering at a short 
distance from the hut, the strength of 
one man being insufficient to move it. 
We also inclosed, by means of ropes, and 
posts made of the ribs of the wreck, a 
plot of ground of two acres in extent, 
where the land was the richest and un- 
shaded, so as to prevent the pigs from in- 
juring the vegetables ; and, poor Marble 
knowing little of gardening, I had a mel- 
ancholy pleasure in seeing the whole piece 
dug, or rather hoed up, and sown and 


396 WORKS 


planted myself, before we sailed. We 
put in corn, potatoes, peas, beans, lettuce, 


radishes, and several other things, of 


which we found the seeds in the French 
garden, We took pains, moreover, to 
transport from the wreck many articles 
that it was thought might prove of use, 
though they were too heavy for Marble 
to handle. As there were near forty of 
us, all busy in this way for three or four 
days, we effected a great deal, and may 
be said to have got the island in order. — I 
felt the same interest in the duty that I 
should in bestowing a child for life. 

Marble, himself, was not much among 
us all this time. He rather complained 
that I should leave him nothing to do, 
though I could see he was touched by the 
interest we manifested in his welfare. 
The French launch had been used as the 
means of conveyance between the wreck 
and the beach, and we found it where it 
had been left by its original owners, 
anchored to leeward of the island, and 
abreast of the ship. It was the last thing 
I meddled with, and it was my care to 
put it in such a state that, at need, it 
might be navigated across that tranquil 
Sea, to some other island, should Marble 
feel a desire to abandon his solitude. The 
disposition I made of the boat was as 
follows :— 

The launch was large and coppered, and 
it carried two lug-sails, Ihad both masts 
stepped, with the yards, sails, sheets, etc., 
‘prepared, and put in their places; a stout 
rope was next carried round the entire 
boat, outside, and a few inches below the 
gunwale, where it was securely nailed. 
From this rope led a number of lanyards, 
with eyes turned into their ends. Through 
these eyes I rove a sort of ridge-rope, 
leading it also through the eyes of several 
stanchions that were firmly stepped on 
the thwarts. The effect, when the ridge- 
rope was set up, was to give the boat the 
protection of this waist-cloth, which in- 
clined in-board, however, sufficiently to 
leave an open passage between the two 
sides, of only about half the beam of the 
boat. To the ridge-rope and lanyards I 


had tarpaulins firmly attached, tacking 
their lower edges strongly to the outer 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


sides of ,the boat. 


secured, a sea might break, or a wave 
slap against the boat, without her taking 
in much water. It doubled her security 
in this particular, more than answering 
the purposes of a half-deck and wash- 
board. 
might carry all away; but very heavy 
waves would probably fill the boat under 
any circumstances. 


made her as safe as an undecked vessel 
very well could be. 

Marble watched me while I was super- 
intending these changes in the boat with 
a good deal of interest ; and one evening 
—I had announced an intention to sail 
next morning, the major and Emily havy- 
ing actually gone on board that evening— 
he got my arm and led me away from the 
spot, like a man who has urgent business. 
I could see that he was much affected, 
and had strong hopes he intended to an- 
nounce a change of purpose. His hand 
actually trembled, the whole time he 
grasped my arm. 

‘““God bless you, Miles! God bless you, 
dear boy!’ he said, speaking with dif- 
ficulty, as soon as we were out of ear- 
shot from the others. ‘If any being 
could make me pine for the world, it 
would be such a friend as you. I could 
live on without father or mother, brother 
or sister, ship or confidence of my owners, 
good name even, were I sure of meeting 
such a lad as yourself in only every thou- 
sandth manI fell in with. But, young as 
you are, you know how it is with man- 
kind ; and no more need be said about it. 
All I ask now is, that you will knock off 
with this ‘making him comfortable,’ as 
you call it, or you’ll leave me nothing to 
do for myself. I can fit out that boat as 
well as e’er a man in the Crisis, I’'d have 
you to know.’’ 


‘“‘T am well aware of that, my friend; 


but I am not so certain that you would. 
In that boat, I am in hopes you will follow 
us out to sea, and come on board again, 
and take your old place as master.’’ 


Marble shook his head, and I believe he _ 


Saw by my manner that I had no serious 


By this arrangement, — 
when all was in its place, and properly — 


It is true, a very heayy wave 


Such a craft could 
only find safety in her buoyancy; and we \ 


a 


— 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


expectations of the sort 1 named. We 
walked some distance further, in silence, 
before he again spoke. Then he said sud- 
denly, and in a way to show how much 
his mind was troubled— 

«Miles, my dear boy, you must let me 
hear from you!”’ 

“Hear from me! By what means, 
pray? You cannot expect the Post- 
master General will make a mail route 
between New York amd this island ? ”’ 

‘Pooh! I’m getting old, and losing my 
memory. I was generalizing on friend- 
ship. and the like of that, and the idea 
ran away with me. I know, of course, 
when you are out of sight, that I shall 
be cut off from the rest of the world— 
probably shall never see a human face 
again. But what of that? My time can- 
not be long now, and I shall have the fish, 
fowls, and pigs to talk to. To tell you 
the truth, Miles, Miss Merton gave me her 
own Bible yesterday, and, at my request, 
she pointed out that part which gives an 
account about Moses in the bulrushes, 
and I’ve just been looking it over; itis 
easy enough, now, to understand why I 
was called Moses.”’ 

<«*But Moses did not think it necessary 
to go and live in a desert, or on an unin- 
habited island, merely because he was 
found in those bulrushes.”’ 

‘«¢ That Moses had no occasion to be 
ashamed of his parents. It was fear, not 
shame, that sent him adrift. Nor did 
Moses ever let a set of lubberly French- 
men seize a fine, stout ship, like the Crisis, 
with a good, able-bodied crew of forty men 
on board of her.’’ 

‘Come, Marble, you have too much 
sense to talk in this manner. It is, for- 
tunately, not too late to change your 
mind; and I will let it be understood that 
you did so at my persuasion.”’ 

This was the commencement of a final 
effort on my part to induce my friend to 
abandon his mad project. We conversed 
quite an hour, until I had exhausted my 
breath, as well as my arguments, indeed ; 
and all without the least success. | pointed 
out to him the miserable plight he must 
be in, in the event of illness ; but it was 
an argument that had no effect on a man 


\ 


397 


‘ 


who had never had even a headache in his 
life. As for society, he cared not a straw 
for it when ashore, he often boasted; and 
he could not yet appreciate the effects of 
total solitude. Once or twice, remarks 
escaped him as if he thought it possible I 
might one day return; but they were ven- 
tured in pleasantry, rather than with any 
appearance of seriousness. I could see 
that the self-devoted hermit had his mis- 
givings, but I could obtain no verbal con- 
cession from him to that effect. He was 
reminded that the ship must positively 
sail next day, since it would not do to 
trifle with the interests of the owners any 
longer. 

«JT know it, Miles,’? Marble answered, 
‘©and no more need be said on the subject. 
Your people are through with their work, 
and here comes Neb to report the boat 
ready to go off. I shall try my hand 
ashore to-night, alone ;.in the morning, I 
suppose you would like to take an old 
shipmate by the hand for the last time, 
and you will nat’rally look for me at the . 
water-side. Good night! Before we part, 
however, I may as well thank you for the 
supply of clothes I see you have put in- 
my hut. It was scarcely wanted, as bf 
have enough needles and thread to sup- 
ply a slop-shop; and the old duck left by 
the French will keep me in jackets and 
trousers for the remainder of my days. 
Good night, my dear boy! God bless you 
—CGod bless you!” 
~ It was nearly dark, bnt I could see that 
Marble’s eyes looked moist, and feel that 
his hand again trembled. I left him, not 
without the hope that the solitude of this 
night, the first in which he had been left 
by himself, would have the effect to lessen 
his desire to be a hermit. When I turned 
in, it was understood that all hands were 
to be called at daylight, and the ship un- 
moored. 

Talcott came to call me, at the indi- 
cated moment. I had made him chief 
mate, and taken one of the Philadelphians 
for second officer ; a young man who had 
every requisite for the station, and one 
more than was necessary, or a love.of 
liquor. But drunkards do tolerably well 
on board a ship in which reasonable disci- 


398 


pline is maintained. For that matter, 
Neptune ought to be a profound moralist, 
as youths are very generally sent to sea 
to cure most of the ethical ailings. Tal- 
cott was directed to unmoor, and heave 
short. As for myself, I got into a boat 
and pulled ashore, with an intention of 
making a last and strong appeal to 
Marble. 

No one was visible on the island when 
we reached it. 
already in motion, however, and were 
gathering near the door of the hut, where 
Marbie was accustomed to feed them 
about that hour; the fowls on sugar, 
principally. I proceeded to the door, 
opened it, entered the place, and found 
it empty! Its late inmate was then up, 
and abroad. He had probably passed a 
sleepless night, and sought relief in the 
fresh air of the morning. I looked for 
him in the adjacent grove, on the outer 
beach, and in most of his usual haunts. 
He was nowhere visible... A little vexed 
at having so long a walk before me, at a 
moment when we were so much pressed 
for time, I was about to follow the grove 
to a distant part of the island, to a spot 
that I knew Marble frequented a good 
deal, when moody; but my steps were 
arrested by an accidental glance at the 
lagoon. I missed the Frenchman’s launch, 
or the boat I had myself caused to be 
rigged with so much care, the previous 
day, for the intended hermit’s especial ad- 
vantage. This wasa large boat; one that 
had been constructed to weigh a heavy 
anchor, and I had left her moored between 
a grapneland the shore, so securely, as to 
forbid the idea she could have been moved, 
in so quiet a time, without the aid of 
hands. Rushing to the water, I got into 
my own boat, and pulled directly on 
board. 

On reaching the ship, a muster of all 
hands were ordered. The result proved 
that everybody was present, and at duty. 
It followed that Marble, alone, had car- 
ried the boat out of the lagoon. The men 
who had had the anchor-watches during 
the past night were questioned on the 
subject, but no one had seen or heard 
anything of a movement in the launch. 


WORKS OF FENIMORE 


| Mr. Talcott was told to continue his duty, 


The pigs and fowls were. 


COOPER. 


q 
while I went aloft myself, to look at the 
offing. Iwas soon in the main-topmast — 
cross-trees, where a view was commanded 
of the whole island, a few covers excepted, 
of all the water within the reef, and a 
wide range without. Nowhere was the 
boat or Marble to be seen. It was barely 
possible that he had concealed himself be- 
hind the wreck, though I did not see how 
ever this could be»done, unless he had 
taken the precaution to strike the launch’s 
masts. 

By this time our last anchor was aweigh, 
and the ship was clear of the bottom. The 
topsails had been hoisted before I went 
aloft, and everything was now ready 
for filling away. Too anxious to go on 
deck, under such circumstances, and a 
lofty position being the best for ascer- 
taining the presence of rocks, I deter- 
mined to remain where I was, and con the 
ship through the passes, in my own per- 
son. An order was accordingly given to 
set the jib, and to swing the head yards, 
and to get the spanker on the ship. In a 
minute, the Crisis was again in motion, 
moving steadily toward the inlet. As 
the lagoon. was not entirely free from 
danger, coral rocks rising in places, quite 
near the surface of the water, I was 
obliged to be attentive to the pilot’s duty 
until we got into the outer bay, when this 
particular danger in a great measure dis- 
appeared. I could then look about me 
with more freedom. Though we so far 
changed our position, as respected the 
wreck, as to open new views of it, no 
launch was to be seen behind it. By the’ 
time the ship reached the passage through 
the reef, I had little hope of finding it 
there. 

We had got to be too familiar with the 
channels to have any difficulty m taking 
the ship through them; and we were 
soon fairly to windward of the reef. Our 
course, however, lay to leeward; and we ~ 
passed round the southern side of the’ 
rocks, under the same easy canvas, until 
we got abreast, and within: half a cable’s 
length of the wreck. ‘T’oaid my own eyes, 
I had called up Talcott and Neb; but — 
neither of us could obtain the least glimpse 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


of the launch. Nothing was to be seen 
about the wreck; though I took the pre- 
caution to send a boat to it. All was use- 
less. Marble had gone out to sea, quite 
alone, in the Frenchman’s launch; and, 
though twenty pairs of eyes were now 
aloft, no one could fancy that he saw any- 
thing in the offing that resembled a boat. 

Talcott and myself had a private inter- 
view on the subject of Marble’s probable 
course. My mate was of opinion that our 
friend had made the best of his way for 
scme of the inhabited islands, unwilling 
to remain here when it came to the pinch, 
and yet ashamed to rejoin us. I could 
hardly believe this; in such a case, I 
thought he would have waited until we 
had sailed; when he might have left the 
island also, and nobody been the wiser. 
To this Talcott answered that Marble prob- 
ably feared our importunities ; possibly, 
compulsion. It seemed singular to me, 
that a man who regretted his hasty de- 
cision should adopt such a course; and 
yet I was at a loss to explain the matter 
much more to my own satisfaction. Never- 
theless, there was no remedy. We were 
4s much in the dark as it was possible to 
be with a knowledge of the circumstance 
that the bird had flown. 

We hovered around the reef for several 
hours, most of which time I passed in the 
cross-trees, and some of it on the reyal 
yard. Once, I thought I saw a small 
speck on the ocean, dead to windward, 
that resembled a boat’s sail; but there 
were so many birds flying about, and 
glancing beneath the sun’s rays, that I 
was reluctantly compelled to admit it 
was probably one of them. At meridian, 
therefore, I gave the order to square 
away, and to make sail on our course. 
This was done with the greatest reluc- 
- tance, however, and not without a good 
deal of vacillation of purpose. The ship 
moved away from the land rapidly, and 
by two o’clock, the line of cocoanut trees 
that fringed the horizon astern sunk en- 
tirely beneath the rolling margin of our 
view. From that moment, I abandoned 
the expectation of ever seeing Moses Mar- 
ble again, though the occurrence left all 
of us sad for several days. 


399 


Major Merton and his daughter were on 
the poop nearly the whole of this morning. 
Neither interfered in the least; for the 
old soldier was too familiar with discipline 
to venture an opinion concerning the man- 
agement of the ship. When we met at 
dinner, however, the conversation natu- 
rally turned on the disappearance of our 
old friend. 

«Tt is a thousand pities that pride 
should have prevented Marble from ac- 
knowledging his mistake,’ observed the 
major, “and thus kept him from getting” 
a safe passage to Canton, where he might 
have left you, and joined another ship, 
had he thought it necessary.”’ 

«Where we shall do the same thing, I 
suppose, dear sir,”? added Emily, with a 
manner that I thought marked, ‘‘and 
thus relieve Captain Wallingford from 
the encumbrance of our presence.”’ 

‘Me !—call your delightful society any- 
thing but an encumbrance, 1 beg of you, 
Miss Merton,’ I rejoined in haste. ‘‘Now 
that Mr. Le Compte has furnished this 
comfortable cabin, and you are no longer 
at any inconvenience to yourselves, I 
would not be deprived of the advantage 
and pleasure of this association for more 
than I dare mention.”’ 

Emily looked gratified; while her 
father appeared to me to be thoughtful. 
After a brief pause, however, the major 
resumed the discourse. 

«‘T should certainly feel myself bound 
to make many apologies for the trouble 
we are giving,” he said, ‘‘ especially, 
since I understand from Wallingford, he 
will not accept, either for himself or his 
owners, anything like compensation even 
for the food we consume, were it not that 
we are here by constraint, and not by any 
agency of our own. As soon as we reach 
Canton, however, I shall feel it a duty to 
get on board the first English ship that 
will receive us.”’ 

I stole a glance at Emily, but could not 
understand the expression of her counte- 
nance, as she heard this announcement. 
Of course, I made an earnest protest 
against the major’s doing anything of the 
sort; and yet I could not well find any 
sufficient reason for urging him to remain 


400 


where he was, beyond my own gratifica- 
tion. Icould not go either to England or 
Bombay ; and I took it for granted Major 
Merton wished to proceed at once, to one, 
if not to both of these places. We con- 
versed, a little generally perhaps, on this 
subject for some time longer ; and when I 
left the cabin, it struck me, Emily’s mel- 
ancholy had in no degree lessened. 

It isa long road to traverse, over half 
of the Pacific. Weeks and weeks were 
thus occupied ; Talcott and myself profit- 
ing by every suitable occasion, to enjoy 
the advantages of the association chance 
had thus thrown in our way. I make no 
doubt I was greatly benefited by my con- 
stant communications with the Mertons; 
the major being a cultivated, though not 
a particularly brilliant man; while I con- 
ceive it to be utterly impossible for two 
young men, of our time of life and profes- 
sion, to be daily, almost hourly, in the 
company of a young woman like Emily 
Merton, without losing some of the pecul- 
lar roughness of the sea, and getting, in 
its place, some small portion of the gen- 
tler qualities of the saloon. I date a cer- 
tain @ plomb, an absence of shyness in the 
company of females, from this habitual 
intercourse with one of the sex who had, 
herself, been carefully educated in the con- 
ventionalities of respectable, if not of very 
elegant or sophisticated society. 

At length we reached the China seas, 
and falling in to windward, we made a 
quick run to Canton. It now became 
necessary for me to attend to the ship 
and the interests of my owners ; suffering 
my passengers to land at Whampoa, with 
the understanding that we were to meet 
before either party sailed. I-soon dis- 
posed of the sandal wood and skins, and 
found no difficulty in procuring teas, nan- 
keens, china-ware, and the other articles 
pointed out in the instructions to poor 
Captain Williams. I profited by the 
occasion, also, to make certain purchases 
on my own account, that I had a presenti- 
ment would be particularly agreeable to 
the future mistress of Clawbonny, let 
that lady turn out to be whomsoever she 
might. The dollars obtained on the west 
coast of South America enabled me to do 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


this; my instructions giving the neces- 
sary authority to use a few of them on 
private account. My privilege as master 
rendered all proper. 

In a word, the residence of six or eight 


weeks at Canton proved a very advan- — 


tageous affair for those whose money was 
embarked in the Crisis. Sandal wood 
and sea-otter skins brought particularly 
high prices; while teas, and the manu- 
factures of the country, happened to be 
low. I had no merit in this—not a par- 
ticle; and yet I reaped the advantage, so 
far as advantage was connected with the 
mere reputation of the voyage—success 
being of nearly as great account in com- 
merce as in war. It is true, I worked like 
a dog; for I worked under an entirely 
novel sense of responsibility, and with a 
feeling I am certain that could never have 
oppressed me in the care of my own prop- 
erty ; and I deserved some portion of the 
credit subsequently obtained. At all 
events I was heartily rejoiced when the 
hatches were on, and the ship was once 
more ready for sea. 

It now became a duty, as well as a 
pleasure, to seek Major Merton, whom I 
had seen but once or twice during the last 
two months. He had passed that time 
at Whampoa, while I had been either at 
the factories or on board. The major was 
occupied when I called, and Emily re- 
ceived me alone. When she learned that I 
was ready to sail for home, and had come 
to take my leave, it was easy to see that 
She was uneasy if not distressed. I felt 
unhappy at parting, too, and perhaps I 
had less scruple about saying as much. 

“God only knows, Miss Merton, wheth- 
er we are ever to be permitted to see each 
other again,’’ I remarked, after the pre- 
liminary explanations had been made. 


The reader will remember that I am 


now an old man, and that vanity no 
longer has any of that influence over me 
which it might be supposed to possess 
over one of more juvenile hopes and feel- 
ings; that I relate facts, without refer- 
ence to their effect on myself, beyond the 
general salvo of some lingering weaknesses 
of humanity. I trust, therefore, I shall be 
understood in all my necessary allusions 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


to the estimation in which I was appar- 
ently held by others. Emily fairly started 
when I made this remark concerning the 
probable duration of the approaching sep- 
aration, and the color left her cheek. 

Her pretty white hand shook, so that 
she had difficulty in using her needle; and 
there was an appearance of agitation and 
distress about the charming girl, that I 
had never before witnessed in one whose 
manner was usually so self-possessed and 
calm. I now know the reason why I did 
not throw myself on my knees, and beg 
the charming girl to consent to accompany 
me to America, though I wondered at my- 
self afterward, when I came to reflect 
coolly on all that had passed, for my 
stoicism. I will not affirm that I fancied 
Kmily’s agitation to be altogether owing 
to myself, but I confess to an inability to 
account for it in any other manner as 
agreeable to myself. The appearance of 
Major Merton at that instant, however, 
prevented everything like a scene, and 
probably restored us both to a conscious- 
ness of the necessity of seeming calm. As 
for the major himself, he was evidently far 
from being unconcerned, something having 
occurred to disturbhim. So very appar- 
ent was this, that I commenced the dis- 
course by asking if he were unwell. 

“Always that, I fear, Miles,’ he an- 
Swered ; “‘my physician has just told me 
frankly, unless I get into a cold climate as 
soon as possible, my life will not be worth 
six months’ purchase.”’ 

“Then sail with me, sir,’’ I cried, with 
an eagerness and heartiness that must 
have proved my sincerity. ‘‘ Happily, I 
am not too late to make the offer; and, as 
for getting away, I am ready to sail to- 
morrow.”’ 

**T.am forbidden to go near Bombay,”’ 
continued the major, looking anxiously at 
his daughter; ‘‘and that appointment 
must be abandoned. If I could continue 
to hold it there is no probability of a 
chance to reach my station this half 
year.”’ 

“So much the better for me, sir. In 
four or five months from this moment I 
will land you in New York, where you 
will find the climate cold enough for any 


401 


disease. J ask you as friends, as guests, 
not as passengers; and to prove it, the 
table in the upper cabin, in future, shall. 
be mine. I have barely left room in the 
lower cabin to sleep or dress in, having 
filled it with my own private venture, as 
is my right.”’ 

“You are as generous as kind, Miles ; 
but what will your owners think of such 
an arrangement ?”’ 

“They have no right to complain. The 
cabin and passengers, should any of the 
last offer, after deducting a very small 
allowance for the ship’s portion of the 
food and water, are mine by agreement. 
All the better food I find at my own 
charge ; and should you insist on remun- 
erating the owners for the coarser, or 
such as they find, you can do so—it will 
be less than a hundred dollars at the 
most.”’ 

‘‘On these conditions, then, I shall 
thankfully profit by your offer, attaching, 
however, one more that I trust you may 
be permitted to fulfill. Itis important to 
me that I reach England—can you touch 
at St. Helena? ”’ 

‘‘Willingly, if it be your wish. The 
health of the crew, moreover, may render 
it desirable.”’ 

“There, then, I will quit you, if an op- 
portunity offer to proceed to England. 
Our bargain is made, dear Miles; and to- 
morrow I shall be ready to embark.’’ 

I think Emily never looked more beauti- 
ful than she did while listening to this 
arrangement. It doubtless relieved her 
mind on the painful subject of her father’s 
health, and I fancied it relieved it also on 
the subject of our own immediate separa- 
tion. Months must elapse before we could 
reach St. Helena; and who could foresee 
what those months might bring forth ? 
As I had a good deal to do at such a 
moment, I took my leave, with my feel- 
ings lightened, as it might be, of a burden. 
The reader will at once infer I was in love, 
But he will be mistaken. I was not in 
love, though my imagination, to use a 
cant phrase of some of the sects, was 
greatly exercised. Lucy, even then, had 
a hold of my heart in a way of which I 
was ignorant myself; but it was not in 


402 WORKS 


nature for a youth, just approaching his 
majority, to pass months and months, al- 
most alone, in the society of a -lovely girl 
who was a year or two his junior, and not 
admit some degree of tenderness toward 
her in his feelings. The circumstances 
were sufficient to try the constancy of the 
most faithful swain that ever lived. Then 
it must be remembered that I had never 
professed to love Lucy—was not at all 
aware that she entertained any other sen- 
timent toward me than that she enter- 
tained toward Rupert; whereas Emily— 
but I will not prove myself a coxcomb on 
paper, whatever I might have been, at 
the moment, in my own imagination. 

Next day, at the appointed hour, I had 
the happiness to receive my old passen- 
gers. It struck me that Talcott was as 
much gratified as 1 was myself, for he, 
too, had both pleasure and improvement 
in Emily Merton’s society. It has often 
been said that the English East-India 
ships are noted for quarreling and making 
love. The quarrels may be accounted for 
on the same principle as the love-making, 
viz., propinquity; the same proximity 
producing hostility in those sterner nat- 
ures, that in others of a gentler cast 
produces its opposite feeling. 

We sailed, and it is scarcely necessary 
to tell the reader how much the tedium of 
so long a voyage and the monotony of a 
sea voyage was relieved by the graces and 
gentle intercourse of our upper cabin. The 
other apartment being so crowded and 
hot, I passed most of my time in the poop, 
which was both light and airy. Here I 
generally found the father and daughter, 
though often the latter alone. I played 
reasonably well on the fiute and violin, 
and had learned to accompany Emily on 
her piano, which, it will be remembered, 
Monsieur Le Compte had caused to be 
transferred from the Bombay ship to his 
own vessel, and which had subsequently 
been saved from the wreck. 

Talcott also played on the flute, far 
better than I did myself, and we frequent- 
ly made a trio, producing very respect- 
able sea music—better, indeed, than Nep- 
tune often got for his smiles. In this 
manner, then, we traveled our long road, 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


sometimes contending with head winds 
and cross seas, sometimes becalmed, and 
sometimes slipping along at a rate that 
rendered everybody contented and happy. 

In passing the Straits of Sunda, I re- 
lated to Major Merton and Emily the 
incidents of the John’s affair with the 
proas, and her subsequent loss on the 
Island of Madagascar; and was rewarded 
by the interest they took in the tale. We 
all spoke of Marble, as indeed we often 
did, and expressed our regrets at his ab- 
sence. The fate of my old shipmate was 
frequently discussed among us, there 
being a great diversity of opinion on the 
subject. As for the major, he thought 
poor Marble must be lost at sea, for he 
did not perceive how any one man could 
manage a boat all alone by himself. Tal- 
cott, who had juster notions of what a 
seaman could do, was of opinion that our 
late commander had run to leeward, in 
the hope of finding some inhabited island, 
preferring the association of even canni- 
bals, when it came to the trying moment, 
to total solitude. I thought he had gone 
to windward, the boat being so well 
equipped for that service, and that Mar- 
ble was in the expectation of falling in 
with some of the whalers, who were 
known to be cruising in certain latitudes. 
Iwas greatly struck, however, by a re- 
mark made by Emily, on the evening of 


the very day when we passed the Straits 


of Sunda. 

‘‘ Should the truth be ever known, gen- 
tlemen,”’ 
will be found that poor Mr. Marble only 
left the island to escape from your im- 
portunities, and returned to it after the 


she said, ‘‘I am of opinion it > 


ship disappeared ; and that he is there at © 


this moment, enjoying all the happiness of 
a hermit.’’ * 
This might be true, and from that hour 
the thought would occasionally recur to 
my mind. As I looked forward to pass- 


ing at least several more years at Sea, be 


secretly determined to ascertain the fact 
for myself, should occasion ever offer. 
the meantime, the Cris7zs had reached a 


part of the ocean where, in those days, it © 
was incumbent on those who had the 
charge of a ship to keep a vigilant look-— 


Inj 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


out for enemies. It seems we were not 
fated to run the gauntlet of these pirates 
entirely unharmed. 

Early on the following morning, I was 
awakened by Talcott’s giving me a hearty 
shake of the shoulder. 

~*Turn out at once, Captain Walling- 
ford,’’ cried my mate; ‘‘the rascals are 
closing around us like crows about a car- 
cass. As bad luck will have it, we have 
neither room nor breeze to spare. Every- 
thing looks like a busy morning for us, sir.”’ 

In just three minutes from that mo- 
ment, I was on deck, where all hands were 
soon collected, the men tumbling up with 
their jackets in their hands. Major Mer- 
ton was already on the poop, surveying 
the scene with a glass of his own; while 
the two mates were clearing away the 
guns, and getting the ship in a state to 
make a suitable defense. To me, the 
situation was altogether novel. I had 
been six times in the presence of enemies 
before, and twice as commander; but 
never under circumstances that called so 
imperiously for seamanship and good con- 
duct. The ocean seemed covered with 
enemies, Major Merton declaring that he 
could count no less than twenty-eight 
proas, all full of men, and some of them 
armed with artillery. These chaps were 
ahead, astern, to windward, and to lee- 
ward ; and, what was worse, they had 
just wind enough to suit their purposes, 
there being about a five-knot breeze. It 
was evident that the craft acted in con- 
cert, and that they were desperately bent 
on our capture, having closed around us 
in this manner in the night. Neverthe- 
less, we were a warm ship for a mer- 
~chantman; and not a man in the Crisis 
betrayed any feeling that indicated any 
other desire than a wish to resist to the 
last. As for Neb, the fellow was in a 
broad grin the whole time; he considered 
the affair as a bit of fun. Yet this negro 
was afraid to visit certain places about 
the farm in the dark, and could not have 
been induced to cross a churchyard alone, 
under a bright sun, I feel well persuaded. 
He was the oddest mixture of supersti- 
tious dread and lion-hearted courage I 
ever met with in my life. 


403 


It was still early, when the proas were 
near enough to commence serious opera- 
tions. This they did, by a nearly simul- 
taneous discharge of about a dozen guns, 
principally sixes, that they carried 
mounted in their bows. The shot came 
whistling in among our spars and rigging, 
literally from every direction, and three 
struck, though they were not of a size to 
do any serious injury. Our people were 
at quarters, having managed to man both 
batteries, though it left scarcely any one 
to look after the braces and rigging, and 
none but the officers with small arms. 

Mr. Merton must have felt that his and 
his daughter’s liberty, if not their lives, 
were in the keeping of a very youthful 
commander ; still, his military habits of 
subordination were so strong, he did not 
venture even asuggestion. [had myown 
plan, and was just of an age to think it 
derogatory to my rank to ask advice of 
any one. The proas were strongest ahead 
and on both bows, where they were col- 
lecting to the number of near twenty, evi- 
dently with the intention of boarding, 
should an opportunity offer ; while astern, 
and on our quarter, they were much fewer, 
and far more scattered. The reason of 
all this was apparent by our course, the 
pirates naturally supposing we should 
continue to stand on. 

Orders were given to haul up the main- 
sail and to man the spanker brails. The 
men were taken from the starboard bat- 
tery, exclusively, to perform this work. 
When all was ready, the helm was put 
up, and the ship was brought as short 
round on her heel as possible, hauling up, 
on an easy bowline, on the other tack. In 
coming round, we delivered all our lar- 
board guns among the crowd of enemies, 
well crammed with grape; and the dis- 
tance being just right for scattering, this 
broadside was not without effect. As soon 
as braced up, on the other track, we 
opened starboard and larboard, on such 
of the chaps as came within range, clear- 
ing our way as we went. The headmost 
proas all came round in chase; but being 
from half a mile to a mile astern, we had 
time to open a way out of the circle, and 
to drive all the proas who were now ahead 


404 WORKS 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


of us to take refuge among the crowd of | pick up the crew. Three more had suf- 


their fellows. The maneuver was hand- 
somely executed; and in twenty minutes 
we ceased firing, having all our enemies 
to the westward of us, and in one group; 
this was an immense advantage, as it en- 
abled us to fight with a single broadside, 
prevented our being raked, and rendered 
our own fire more destructive, by exposing 
to ita more concentrated, and, at the same 
time, a larger object. I ought to have 
said before that the wind was at the 
southward. 

The Crisis now tacked, setting the 
courses and royals. The ship lay up well, 
and the proas having collected around 
their admiral, there was a prospect of her 
passing to windward of everything. Six 
of the fellows, however, seemed deter- 
mined to prevent this, by hauling close on 
a wind, and attempting to cross our bows, 
firing as they did so. The ship stood on, 
apparently as if to intercept them; when, 
finding ourselves near enough, we kept 
away about three points and swept direct- 
ly down in the center of the main body of 
the proas. As this was done, the enemy, 
taken by surprise, cleared a way for us, 
and we passed the whole of them, deliver- 
ing erape and canister as fast as we could 
deal it out. In the height of the affair, 
and the thickest of the smoke, three or 
four of the proas were seen quite near us, 
attempting to close; but I did not think 
it necessary to call the people from the 
guns, which were worked with great 
quickness, and did heavy execution. I 
fancy the pirates found it hotter than 
they liked, for they did not keep on with 
us; though our lofty sails gave us an ad- 
vantage, and would have enabled us to 
leave them, had they pursued a different 
course. As it was, we were clear of them 
in about five minutes ; and the smoke be- 
ginning to rise, we soon got a view of 
what had been done in that brief space. 
In order to increase our distance, how- 
ever, we still kept away, running pretty 
fast through the water. 

By the confusion which prevailed among 
the pirates, the rascals had been well pep- 
pered. One had actually sunk, and five 
or six were round the spot endeavoring to 


fered in their spars, and the movements 
indicated that all had enough. As soon 
as satisfied of this, | hauled the ship up to 
her course, and we continued to leave the 
cluster of boats, which remained around 
the spot where their consort had gone 
down. Those of the fellows to windward, 
however, did not seem disposed to give it 
up, but followed us for two hours, by 
which time the rest of their flotilla were 
hull down. Believing there was now 
plenty of room, I tacked toward these 
persevering gentry, when they went 
about like tops, and hauled off sharp on 
a wind. We tacked once more to our 
course, and were followed no further. 

The captain of a pepper ship afterward 
told me that our assailants lost forty- 
seven men, mostly killed, or died of their 
hurts, and that he had understood that 
the same officer commanded the Crisis 
that had commanded the John, in her 
affair, near the same spot. We had 
some rigging cut, a few of our spars 
slightly injured, and two men _ hurt, 
one of whom happened to be Neb. The 
man most hurt died before we reached 
the cape, but more from the want of 
surgical assistance than from the original — 
character of his wound. As for Neb, he 
went to duty before we reached St. Hel- 
ena. For my part, I was surprised one 
of the proas did not get down his throat, 
his grin being wide enough, during the 
whole affair, to admit of the passage of a — 
two-decker. a 

We went into the island, as had been 
agreed, but no ship offering, and none 
being expected soon, it became necessary 
for my passengers to continue on with 
us to New York. Emily had behaved 
uncommonly well in the brush with the 
pirates, and everybody was glad to keep 
her in the ship. The men swore she 
brought good luck, forgetting that the 
poor girl must have met with much ill 
luck, in order to be in the situation in 
which she was actually placed. 

Nothing occurred on the passage ron 
St. Helena to New York, worthy of being — 
specially recorded. It was rather long, 
but I cannot say it was unpleasant. At 


, 


5 
; 
4 

Uy 


} 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


length our reckoning told us to look out 
for land. The major and Emily were on 
deck, all expectation, and ere long we 
heard the welcome cry. <A hazy cloud 
was just visible on our lee-bow. It grew 
more and more dense and distinct, until 
it showed the hues and furrows of a 
mountain-side. The low point of the 
Hook, and the higher land beyond, then 
came in view. We glided past the land, 
doubled the Spit, and got into the upper 
bay, just an hour before the sun of a 
beautiful day in June was setting. This 
was in the year of our Lord 1802. 


CHAPTER XxX 


“ Drink! drink! to whom shall we drink ? 
To afriend or a mistress ?—Come, let me think! 
To those who are absent, or those who are here ? 
To the dead that we loved, or the living still dear ? 
Alas! when I look I find none of the last! 
The present is barren—let’s drink to the past.” 
— PAULDING. 


THOUGH strictly a Manhattanese as a 
sailor, I shall not run into rhapsody on 
the subject of the beauties of the inner or 
outer bay of this prosperous place. No 
man but one besotted with provincial con- 
ceit could ever think of comparing the 
harbor of New York with the Bay of 
Naples; nor do I know two places, that 
have the same great elements of land and 
water, that are less alike. The harbor of 
New York is barely pretty—not a par- 
ticle more, if quite as much, while the 
Bay of Naples is almost what its owners 
so fondly term it, ‘“‘a little bit of heaven 
fallen upon earth.’’ On the other hand, 
however, Naples, as a haven, is not to be 
mentioned in the same breath with the 
great American mart, which, as a port, 


_ has no competitor within the circle of my 


knowledge, Constantinople alone excepted. 


_I wish my semi-townsmen, the Manhat- 
tanese, could be persuaded of these facts, 


as, when they do brag, as the wisest of 
mortals sometimes will, they might brag 
of their strong, and not of their weak 
points, as is now too often the case. 

The Major, Emily, and myself stood on 
the poop, regarding the scene, as the ship 


405 


glided onward, before a good southeast 
breeze. I watched the countenance of 
my companions with interest, for I had 
the nervousness of a tyro and a provin- 
cial on the subject of the opinions of the 
people of other lands concerning every- 
thing that affected my own. I could see 
that the major was not particularly 
struck; and I was disappointed, then, 
whatever may be my opinion now. Emily 
better answered my hopes. Whether the 
charming girl really felt the vast contrast 
between a view of the unbroken expanse 
of the ocean, and the scene before her, or 
was disposed to please her host, she did 
not hesitate to express delight. I let her 
understand how much I was gratified ; 
and thus our long, long voyage, and that, 
so far as degrees of longitude were con- 
cerned, nearly embraced the circuit of the 
earth, may be said to have terminated 
with the kindest feeling. 

The ship was off Bedloe’s, and the pilot 
had begun to shorten sail, when a schoon- 
er crossed our fore-foot, beating down. 
I had been too much occupied with the 
general movement of the bay, to notice 
one small craft; but, this vessel happen- 
ing to tack quite near us, I could not but 
turn my eyes in her direction. At that 
instant I heard a shout from Neb, who 
was furling one of the royals. It was one of 
those irrepressible ‘“‘nigger gollies ”’ that 
often escaped from the fellow involunta- 
rily. 

‘“What do you mean by that uproar, 
on the mizzenroyal-yard,’’ I called out 
angrily—for the style of my ship had now 
become an object of concern with me. 
‘Keep silence, sir, or I’ll find a way to 
instruct you in the art.’’ 

‘‘Lord! masser Mile ’’—cried the negro, 
pointing eagerly toward the schooner— 
‘‘there go Pretty Poll.’’ 

It was our old craft, sure enough, and I 
hailed her incontinently. 

<* Pretty Polly, ahoy ! ”’ 

‘* Halloo ! ”’ 

‘‘ Where are you bound, sir; and when 
did that schooner get in from the Pa- 
cific ? ”’ . 

““We are bound to Martinique—the Poll 
got home from the South Seas about six 


406 WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


months since. This is her third voyage 
to the West Indies since.”’ 

Here then was the certainty that the 
cargo sent home, and the letter with it, 
wereallsafe. I must be expected, and the 
owners would soon hear of my arrival. We 
were not kept Jong in doubt; for, as the 
ship entered the Hudson, a boat approach- 
ed, and in her were two of the principal 
members of our firm. I had seen them, 
and that is all; but my own letters, and 
the report of the officer who brought 
home the schooner, had told them alli 
about me. Could Nelson, after his vic- 
tory of the Nile, have walked into the 
King of England’s private cabinet with 
the news of his own success, his reception 
would not have been more flattering than 
that I now received. I was ‘‘ Captain 
Wallingforded ’’ at every sentence; and 
commendations were so intermixed with 
inquiries about the value of the cargo, 
that I did not know which to answer first. 
I was invited to dine the very next day 
by both the gentlemen in the same 
breath ; and when I raised some objec- 
tions connected with the duty of the ship, 
the invitations were extended from day to 
day, for a week. So very welcome is he 
who brings us gold ! 

We went alongside of a North River 
wharf, and had everything secure just as 
the sun was setting. The people were 
then allowed to go ashore for the night. 
Not a soul of them asked for a dollar, but 
the men walked up the wharf attended by 
a circle of admiring landlords, that put 
them all above want. The sailor who has 
three years’ pay under his lee is a sort of 
Rothschild on Jack’s Exchange. All the 
harpies about our lads knew that the 
Crisis and her teas, etc., were hypothe- 
cated to meet their own ten and twenty 
dollar advances. 

I dressed myself hurriedly, and ordered 
Neb to imitate my example. One of the 
owners had kindly volunteered to see 
Major Merton and Emily to a suitable res- 
idence, with an alacrity that surprised me. 
But the influence of England and English- 
men, in .all America, was exceedingly 
great forty years since. This was still 
more true in New York than in the coun- 


try generally, and a half-pay English 
major was a species of nobleman among 
the better sort of Manhattanese of that 
day. How many of these guasz lords have 
I seen, whose patents of nobility were 
merely the commissions of captains and 
lieutenants signed by the majesty of En- 
gland! In that day—it is nonsense to 
deny it—the man who had served against 
the country, provided he wasa ‘‘ British 
officer,’? was a better man than he who 
had served in our own ranks. This was 
true, however, only as regarded society ; 
the ballot-boxes, and the people, giving 
very different indications of their senti- 
ments on such subjects. Nor is this re- 
sult, so far as New York was concerned, 
as surprising as at first sight it may pos- 
sibly appear. Viewed as a class, the gen- 
try of New York took sides with the 
crown. It is true, that the portion of 
this gentry which might almost be called 
baronial—it was strictly manorial—was 
pretty equally divided, carrying with 
them their collaterals; but the larger 
portion of this entire class of the élite 
of society took sides with the crown, 
and the peace of 1783 found no small part 
of them in possession of their old social 
stations, the confiscations affecting few be- 
yond the most important and the richest 
of the delinquents. I can give an instance 
within my own immediate knowledge of 
the sort of justice of these confiscations. 
The head of one of the most important 
of all the colonial families was a man of 
indolent habits, and was much indisposed — 
to any active pursuits. This gentleman 
was enormously rich, and his estates were 
confiscated.and sold. Now this attained — 
traitor had a younger brother who was 
actually serving in the British army in — 
America, his regiment sharing in the 
battles of Bunker Hill, Brandywine, Mon- 
mouth, etc. But the major wasa younger — 
son, and in virtue of that republican merit, — 
he escaped the consequences of his adhesion : 
to the service of the crown, and after the i 
Revolution the cadet returned to his native — 
country, took quiet possession of a prop- — 
erty of no inconsiderable amount; while — 
his senior passed his days in exile, paying — 
the bitter penalty of being rich in a revo- 


r 


} 


\ 


AFLOAT AND 


lution. It was a consequence of the 
peculiarities first mentioned, that the 
Manhattanese society set so high a value 
on English connection. They stilladmired, 
as the provincial only can admire, and they 
worshipped, as the provincials worship ; 
or, at a safe distance. The strange med- 
ley of truth, cant, selfishness, sophistry, 
and good faith, that founded political hos- 
tility to the movements of the French 
Revolution, had as ardent believers in this 
country as it had in England itself; and 
this contributed to sustain the sort of feel- 
ing I have described. Of the fact there 
can be no doubt, as any one will testify 
who knew New York society forty years 
ago. 

No wonder, then, that Major Merton 
and Emily fared well on their sudden 
arrival in the country. Some romance, 
moreover, was attached to their adven- 
tures; and I had no great reason to give 
_ myself any anxiety on their account. 
There was little doubt of their soon being 
much more at home than [| could hope to 
be, though in my native land. 

Neb soon reported himself ready for 
shore-duty, and I ordered him to follow 
me. It was my intention to proceed to 
the counting-house of the owners to re- 
ceive some letters that awaited me, and 
after writing short answers, to dispatch 
the black at once to Clawbonny with the 
intelligence of my return. In 1802, the 
Battery was the court-end of the town, 
and it was a good deal frequented by the 
better classes, particularly at the hour at 
which I was now about to cross it. I have 
never returned from a voyage, especially 
to Europe, without being particularly 
struck with two things in the great West- 
ern Kmporium—since the common coun- 
cils and the editors insist on the word— 
viz., the provincial appearance of every- 
thing that meets the eye, and the beauty 
of the younger females; meaning, how- 
ever, by the last, the true, native portion 
of the population, and not the throng 
from Ireland and Germany who now 
crowd the streets, and who, certainly, as 
a body, are not in the least remarkable 
for personal charms. But an American 
can tell an American man or woman as 


ASHORE. 407 
soon as he lays eyes on either; and there 
were few besides native girls on the Bat- 
tery at the time of which I am writing. 
As there were many children taking their 
evening walk, and. black servants were 
far more common than now, Neb had his 
share of delights, too, and I heard him 
exclaim ‘‘ Golly!’ twice, before we 
reached the center of the Battery. This 
exclamation escaped him on passing as 
many sable Venuses, each of whom 
bridled up at the fellow’s admiration, 
and, doubtless was as much offended as 
the sex is apt to be on such occasions. 

I must have passed twenty young 
women that evening, either of whom 
would induce a youth to turn around and 
look again; and, for the moment, I forgot 
my errand. Neither Neb nor I was in 
any hurry. We were strolling along, in 
this manner, gazing right and left, when 
a party approached, under the trees, that 
drew all my attention to itself. In front 
walked a young man and young woman, 
who were dressed simply, but with a taste 
that denoted persons of better class. The 
former was remarkable for nothing, unless 
it might be a rattling vivacity, of which 
large doses were administered to his fair 
companion, who, seemingly, swallowed it 
less reluctantly than doses of another sort 
are so often received. At least, I thought 
so while the two were at a distance, by 
the beautiful glistening teeth that were 
shining like my own spotless pearls, be- 
tween lips of coral. The air, beauty, fig- 
ure, and, indeed, all connected with this 
singularly lovely young creature, struck 
my imagination at once. It was not so 
much her beauty, though that was de- 
cided and attractive, as the admixture of 
feminine delicacy with blooming: health ; 
the walk, so natural, and yet so full of 
lightness and grace; the laugh, so joyous, 
and still so quiet and suited to her sex; 
and the entire air and manner, which de- 
noted equally buoyant health and happi- 
ness, the gracefulness of one who thought 
not of herself, and the refinement which 
is quite as much .the gift of native senti- 
ment as the fruit of art and association. 
T could not tell what her companion was. 
saying ; butas they approached, I fancied. 


408 


them acknowledged lovers, on whom for- 
tune, friends, and circumstances smiled 
alike. A glance aside told me that even 
Neb was struck by the being before him, 
and that he had ceased looking at the 
sable Venuses, to gaze at this. 

I could not keep my gaze off the face of 
this lovely creature, who did not let me 
get a good look of her dark-blue eyes, 
_ however, until I was quite near, when they 
were naturally turned toward the form 
that approached. For a few seconds, 
while in the very act of passing, we looked 
intently at each other, and the charm 
said to be possessed by certain animals, 
was not more powerful than was our 
mutual gaze. In this manner we had 
actually passed each other, and I was still 
in a sort of mystified trance, when I heard 
suddenly, in a voice and tone that caused 
every nerve to thrill within me, the single 
word— 

“* Miles !”’ 

Turning, and taking another look, it 
was impossible any longer to mistake. 
Lucy Hardinge stood before me, trem- 
bling, uncertain, her face now pale as 
death, now flushed to scarlet, her hands 
clasped, her look doubting, eager, shrink- 
ing, equally denoting hope and fear, and 
all so blended as to render her the most 
perfect picture of female truth, feeling, 
diffidence, and natural modesty I had ever 
beheld. 

‘* Lucy, is it--can it be possible? It is, 
then, you, I thought so gloriously beauti- 
ful, and that without knowing you, too? ”’ 

I take it for granted, had I studied a 
week, I should not have composed a more 
grateful salutation than this, which burst 
forth ina way that set all the usual re- 
straints of manners at defiance. Ofcourse, 
I felt bound to go through with the mat- 
ter as prosperously as I had commenced, 
and in spite of the publicity of the place, 
in spite of half a dozen persons, who heard 
what passed, and had turned, smiling, to 
see what would come next; in spite of the 
grave-looking gentleman who had so late- 
ly been all vivacity and gayety, I ad- 
vanced, folded the dear girl to my heart, 
and gave her such a kiss as J’ll take upon 
myself to say, she had never before re- 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


ceived. Sailors, usually, do not perform 
such things by halves, and I never was 
more in earnest in my life. Such a salu- 
tation, from a young fellow who stood 
rather more than six feet in his stockings, 
had a pair of whiskers that had come all 
the way from the Pacific with very little 
trimming, and who possessed a manliness 
about him of which mere walking up and 
down Broadway would have robbed a 
young Hercules, had the effect to cover 
poor Lucy with blushes and confusion. 

‘* There—that will do, Miles,’’ she said, 
struggling to get free; “‘a truce, I pray 
you. See, yonder are Grace, and my 
father, and Rupert.”’ 

There they were, sure enough, the 
whole family having come out, to take 
a walk, in company with a certain Mr. 
Andrew Drewett, a young gentleman 
who was a fellow-student of Rupert’s, 
and who, as I afterwards ascertained, 
was a pretty open admirer of Rupert’s | 
sister. There was a marked difference in 
the manner in which I was received by 
Grace and Lucy. The first exclaimed 
‘‘Miles!”’ precisely as the last had ex- 
claimed; her color heightened, and tears 
forced themselves into her eyes, but she 
could not be said to blush. Instead of 
first manifesting an eagerness to meet my 
salute, and then shrinking sensitively 
from it, she flung her delicate arms 
round my neck, without the slightest re- 
serve, both arms, too, kissed me six or 
eight times without stopping, and then 4 
began to sob, as if her heart would break. 
The spectators, who saw in all this the 
plain, honest, natural, undisguised affec- 
tion of a sister, had the good taste to 
walk on, though I could see that their 
countenances sympathized with so happy 
a family meeting. I had but a moment 
to press Grace to my heart, before Mr. 
Hardinge’s voice drew my attention to 
him. 

The good old man forgot that I was 


two inches taller than he was himself; _ 


that I could, with ease, have lifted him 
from the earth, and carried him in my 
arms, aS if he were an infant; that I was 
bronzed by a long voyage, and had Pacific 
Ocean whiskers ; for he caressed me as if 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


I had been.a child, kissed me quite as 
often as Grace had done, blessed me 
aloud, and then gave way to his tears, as 
freely as both the girls. But for this 
burst of feeling on the part of a gray- 
headed old clergyman, I am afraid our 
scene would not altogether have escaped 
ridicule. As it was, however, this saved 
us. Clergymen were far more respected 
in America forty years ago than they are 


to-day, though I think they have still as | 


much consideration here as in most other 
countries; and the general respect felt 
for the class would have insured us from 
any manifestations of the sort, without 
the nature and emotion which came in its 
aid. As for myself, I was glad to take 
refuge in Rupert’s hearty but less senti- 
mental shake of the hand. After this, we 
all sought a seat, in a less public spot, and 
were soon sufficiently composed to con- 
verse. As for the gentleman named 
Drewett, he waited long enough to inquire 
of Lucy who I was, and then he had suffi- 
cient tact to wish us all good evening. I 
overheard the little dialogue which pro- 
duced this explanation. 

<¢ A close friend, if not a near relation, 
Miss Hardinge?’’ he observed, inquir- 
ingly. 

“Oh, yes,’’ answered the smiling, 
weeping girl, with the undisguised truth 
of her honest nature, ‘‘ both friend and 
relative.’’ 

‘‘May I presume to ask the name? ”’ 

«The name, Mr. Drewett! Why, it is 
Miles—dear Miles—you surely have heard 
us speak of Miles—but I forget ; you never 
were at Clawbonny. Is it not a most 
joyful surprise, dearest, dearest Grace ?”’ 

Mr. Andrew Drewett waited, I thought, 
with most commendable patience for 
Grace to squeeze Lucy’s hand, and to 
murmur her own felicitations when he 
ventured to add— 

“You were about to say something, 
Miss Hardinge ? ”’ 

‘«“Was I—I declare I have forgotten 
what it was. Such a surprise—such a 
joyful, blessed surprise—I beg pardon, 
Mr. Drewett—ah! I remember now; I 
was about to say that this is Mr. Miles 
Wallingford, of Clawbonny, the gentie- 


409 


man who is my father’s ward — Grace’s 
brother, you know.’’ 

‘And how related to yourself, Miss 
Hardinge?’’ the gentleman continued, a 
little perseveringly. 

* To me! Oh! very, very near—that 
is—I forget so much this evening—why, 
not at all.’’ 

It was at this moment Mr. Drewett 
saw fit to make his parting salutations 
with studied decorum, and to take his 
leave in a manner so polite that, though 
tempted, I could not, just at the moment, 
stop the current of my feelings to admire. 
No one seemed to miss him, however, and 
we five, who remained, were soon seated 
in the spot I have mentioned, andas much 
abstracted from the scene around us as 
if we had been on the rustic bench under 
the old elm on the lawn—if I dare use so 
fine a word for so unpretending a place 
—at Clawbonny. I had my station be- 
tween Mr. Hardinge and Grace, while 
Lucy sat next her father, and Rupert 
next to my sister. My friend could see 
me, without difficulty, owing to his stat- 
ure, while I saw the glistening eyes of 
Lucy, riveted on my face, as, leaning on 
her father’s knee, she bent her graceful 
form forward, in absorbed attention. 

‘«“We expected you; we have not been 
taken altogether by surprise ! ’’ exclaimed 
good Mr. Hardinge, clapping his hand on 
my shoulder, as if to say he could now 
begin to treat me like a man. ‘‘I con- 
sented to come down, just at this moment, 
because the last Canton ship that arrived 
brought the intelligence that the Crisis 
was to sail in ten days.”’ 

‘And you may judge of our surprise,”’ 
said Rupert, ‘‘ when we read the report 
in the papers, ‘The Crisis, Captain Wal- 
lingford.’ ”’ 

‘‘T suppose my letters from the island 
had prepared you for this,’’ I observed. 

‘In them, you spoke of Mr. Marble, 
and I naturally concluded, when it came 
to the pinch, the man would resume the 
command, and bring the ship home. 
Duty to the owners would be apt to 
induce him.’’ 

‘‘He did not,’’ I answered, a little 
proudly perhaps, forgetting poor Marble’s 


410 WORKS 


probable situation for an instant, in my 
own vanity. ‘‘Mr. Marble understood 
well, that if I knew nothing else, I knew 
how to take care of a ship.”’ 

*‘So it seems, my dear boy, indeed, so 
it doth seem!” said Mr. Hardinge, kind- 
ly. ‘IT hear from all quarters your con- 
duct commended ; and the recovery of the 
vessel from the French was really worthy 
of Truxtun himself.’’ 

At that day, Truxtun was the great 
gun of American naval idolatry, and had 
as much local reputation as Nelson him- 
self enjoyed in England. The allusion 
was a sore assault on my modesty ; but I 
got along with it, as well as I could. 

“JT endeavored to do my duty, sir,’’ I 
answered, trying not to look at Lucy, and 
seem meek; ‘‘and it would have been a 
terrible disgrace to have come home, and 
been obliged to say the French got the 
ship from us when we were all asleep.” 

** But you took a ship from the French, 
in that manner, and kept her too!” said 
a soft voice, every intonation of which was 
music to me. 

I looked round and saw the speaking 
eyes of Lucy, just clear of the gray coat 
of her father, behind which she instinct- 
ively shrank the instant she caught my 
glance. 

*« Yes,’’ I answered, ‘‘ we did something 
of that sort, and were a little more for- 
tunate than our enemies. But, you will 
recollect, we were much favored by the 
complaisance of poor Monsieur Le Compte, 
in leaving us a schooner to work our mis- 
chief in.’’ 

“‘{ have always thought that part of 
your story, Miles, a little extraordinary,”’ 
observed Mr. Hardinge; “though I sup- 
pose this Frenchman’s liberality was, in 
some measure, a matter of necessity, out 
there, in the middle of the Pacific.’’ 

‘‘T hardly think you do Captain Le 
Compte justice, sir. He was achivalrous 
fellow, and every way a gallant seaman. 
It is possible, he was rather more in a 
hurry than he might have been, but for his 
passengers—that is all—at least, I have 
always suspected that the wish to have 
Miss Merton all to himself induced him to 
get rid of us as soon as possible. He evi- 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


dently admired her, and could have been 
jealous of a dead-eye.”’ 

“Miss Merton!”’ 
“Jealous ! ’’ 

“Miss Merton!’ putin Rupert, leaning 
forward curiously. 

‘‘Miss Merton! And jealous of dead- 
eyes, and wishing to get rid of us!’ said 
Mr. Hardinge, smiling. ‘ Pray who is 
Miss Merton? and who are the ws ? and 
who are the dead-eyes ? ”’ 

Lucy was silent. 

“Why, sir, I thought I wrote you all 
about the Mertons. How we met them in 
London, and then found them prisoners to 


exclaimed Grace. 


| Monsieur Le Compte, and that I intended 


to carry them to Canton in the Crisis ?”’ 

“You told us some of this, certainly ; 
but though you may have written ‘all 
about’ a Major Merton, you forgot to tell 
us ‘about all’ the Mertons. This is the 
first syllable [have ever had about a Miss 
Merton. Howis it, girls—did Miles speak 
of any one but the Major in his letters ?”’ 

“Not a syllable to me, sir, of any young 
lady, 1 can assure you,’’ replied Grace, 
laughing. ‘‘ How was it to you, Lucy ?” 

‘Of course he would not tell me that 
which he thought fit to conceal from his 
own sister,’’ said Lucy, in a low voice. 

‘*It is odd I should have forgotten to 
mention her,’’ I cried, endeavoring to 
laugh it off. ‘* Young men do not often 
forget to write about young ladies.”’ 

‘“‘This Miss Merton is young, then, 
brother ? ”’ 

‘‘About your own age, Grace.”’ 

‘And handsome—and agreeable—and 
accomplished ? ”’ 

‘*Something like yourself, my dear.”’ 

‘“But handsome, I take it for granted, 
Miles,’’? observed Mr. Hardinge, ‘‘ by the 
manner in which you have omitted to 
speak of her charms, in your letters !’’ 

‘Why, sir, I think most persons, that 
is the world in general, I mean such as 
are not overfastidious, would consider 
Miss Merton particularly handsome; 
agreeable in person and features, I would 
be understood to say.’’ 

“Oh! you are sufficiently explicit; 
everybody can understand you,’’? added 
my laughing’ guardian, who had no more 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE, 


thought of getting me married to his own 
daughter than to a German princess of a 
hundred and forty-five quarterings, if 
there are any such things; ‘‘some other 
time we will have the particulars of her 
eyes, hair, teeth, etc., etc.’ 

«‘Oh ! sir, you may save me the trouble 
by looking at her yourself, to-morrow, 
since she and her father are both here.”’ 

‘«‘Here!’’? exclaimed all four in a 
breath ; Lucy’s extreme surprise extorting 
the monosyllable from her reserve even a 
little louder than from the rest. 

«Certainly, here ; father, daughter and 
servants. IL dare say I omitted to speak 
of the servants in my letters, too, but a 
poor fellow who has a great deal to do 
cannot think of everything in a minute. 
Major Merton has a touch of the liver- 
complaint, and it would not do to leave 
him in a warm climate. So, no other 
chance offering, he is proceeding to En- 
gland, by the way of America.”’ 

<¢ And how long had you these people 
on board your ship, Miles?’’ Grace asked, 
a little gravely. 

‘¢ Actually on board with myself, about 
nine months, I should think; but includ- 
ing the time in London, at Canton and on 
the island, I should call our acquaintance 
one of rather more than a year’s stand- 
ing.”’ 

“Long enough, certainly, to make a 
young lady sufficiently obvious to a young 
gentleman’s memory, not to be forgotten 
in his letters.”’ 

After this pointed speech there was a 
silence, which Mr. Hardinge broke by 
some questions about the passage home 
from Canton. As it was getting cool on 
the Battery, however, we all moved away, 
proceeding to Mrs. Bradfort’s. Thislady, 
as Lafterward discovered, was much at- 
tached to Lucy, and had insisted on giv- 
ing her these opportunities of seeing the 
world. She was quite at her ease in her 
circumstances, and belonged to a circle a 
good deal superior to that into which 
Grace and myself could have claimed 
admission in right of our own social posi- 
tion. Lucy had been well received as her 
relative, and as a clergyman’s daughter, 
and Grace on her own account, as I after- 


411 


ward learned. Jt would be attaching too 
much credit to Clawbonny to say that 
either of the girls had not improved by 
this association, though it was scarcely 
possible to make Grace more feminine 
and lady-like than she had been made by 
Nature. Theeffect on Lucy was simply to 
puta little reserve on her native frank- 
ness and sturdy honesty; though candor 
compels me to say, that mingling with 
the world, and especially the world to 
which they had been introduced by Mrs. 
Bradfort, had certainly increased the na- 
tive charm of manner that each possessed. 
I began to think Emily Merton, so far 
from possessing any advantage over the 
two girls, might now improve a little her- 
self by associating with them. 

At the house, I had to tell my whole 
story, and to answer a multitude of ques- 
tions. Not a syllable more was said about 
Miss Merton; and even Lucy had smiles 
to bestow and remarks to make, as before. 
When we got to the lights where the girls 
could remove their shawls and hats, I 
made each of them stand before me, in 
order to ascertain how much time had 
altered them. Grace was now nineteen ; 
and Lucy was only six months her junior. 
The greatest change was in the latter. 
Her form had ripened into something as 
near as possible to girlish perfection. In 
this respect she had the advantage of 
Grace, who was a little too slight and 
delicate; whereas Lucy, without any of 
the heaviness that so often accompanies a 
truly rounded person, and which was per- 
haps a slight defect in Emily Merton’s 
figure, was without an angle of any sort, 
in her entire outline. Grace, always so 
handsome, and so intellectual in the ex-. 
pression of her countenance, had improved 
less in this respect than Lucy, whose eyes 
had obtained a tenderness and feeling that 
rendered them, to me, even more attrac- 
tive than those of my own dear sister. In 
a word, any man might have been proud 
at finding two such admirable creatures 


‘interested in him, as interested, every 


look, smile, syllable, and gesture of these 
girls, denoted they were in me. 

All this time, Neb had been overlooked. 
He had followed us to the house, how- 


412 WORKS 


ever, and was already engaged in a dark- 
colored flirtation with a certain Miss Chloe 
Clawbonny, his own second cousin, in the 
kitchen ; a lady who had attracted a por- 
tion of his admiration before we sailed, 
and who had accompanied her young mis- 
tress to town. As soon as it was ascer- 
tained the fellow was below, Lucy, who 
was quite at home in her kinswoman’s 
house, insisted on his being introduced. I 
saw by the indulgent smile of Mrs. Brad- 
fort, that Lucy was not exceeding her 
conceded privileges, and Neb was ordered 
up, forthwith. Never was there a hap- 
pier fellow than this “‘ nigger ’’ appeared 
to be, on that occasion. He kept rolling 
his tarpaulin between his fingers, shifting 
his weight from leg to leg, and otherwise 
betraying the confusion of one questioned 
by his betters; for, in that day, a negro 
was ready enough to allow he had his 
betters, and did not feel he was injured in 
so doing. At the present time, I am well 
aware that the word is proscribed even in 
the State’s Prisons ; everybody being just 
as good as everybody else; though some 
have the misfortune to be sentenced to 
hard labor, while others are permitted to 
go at large. Asa matter of course, the 
selections made through the ballot-boxes 
only go to prove that ‘‘one man is as 
good as another.”’ 

Our party did not separate until quite 
late. Suppers were eaten in 1802; and I 
was invited to sit down with the rest of 
the family, and a gay set we were. It was 
then the fashion to drink toasts; gentle- 
men giving ladies, and ladies gentlemen. 
The usage was singular, but very gen- 
eral; more especially in the better sort of 
houses. We men drank our wine, as a 
matter of course ; while the ladies sipped 
theirs, in that pretty manner in which 
females moisten their lips on such occa- 
sions. After a time, Mrs. Bradfort, who 
was very particular in the observance of 
forms, gayly called on Mr. Hardinge for 
his toast. 

‘‘My dear Mrs. Bradfort,’’ said the di- 
vine, good-humoredly, ‘‘if it were not in 
your own house, and contrary to all rule 
to give a person who is present, I certain- 
ly should drink to yourself. Bless me, 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


bless me, whom shall I give? I suppose I 
shall not be permitted to give our new 
bishop, Dr. Moore ? ”’ 

The cry of “No bishop!” was even 
more unanimous that it is at this moment, 
among those who, having all their lives 
dissented from episcopal authority, fancy 
it an evidence of an increasing influence to 
join in a clamor made by their own voices; 
and this, moreover, on a subject that not 
one ina hundred among them has given 
himself the trouble even to skim. Our 
opposition—in which Mrs. Bradfort joined, 
by the way—was of a very different nat- 
ure, however; proceeding from a desire to 
learn what lady Mr. Hardinge could pos- 
sibly select, at such a moment. I never 
saw the old gentleman so confused before. 
He laughed, tried to dodge the appeal, 
fidgeted, and at last fairly blushed. All 
this proceeded, not from any preference 
for any particular individual of the sex, 
but from natural diffidence, the perfect 
simplicity and nature of his character, 
which caused him to be abashed at even 
appearing to select a female for a toast. 
It was a beautiful picture of masculine 
truth and purity! Still, we would not be 
put off; and the old gentleman, compos- 
ing his countenance five or six times in 
vain efforts to reflect, then looking as 
grave as if about to proceed to prayer, 
raised his glass, and said— 

“Peggy Perott!”’ 

A general laugh succeeded this an- 
nouncement, Peggy Perott being an old 
maid who went about tending the sick 
for hire, in the vicinity of Clawbonny, 
and known to us all as the ugliest woman 
in the country. | 

‘‘Why do you first insist on my giving 
a toast, and then laugh at it when given ?”’ 
cried Mr. Hardinge, half amused, half 
serious in his expostulations. ‘‘ Peggy is 
an excellent iggy and one of the most 
useful I know.’ 

‘‘T wonder, my dear sir, you did not 
think of adding a sentiment !’’ cried I, a 
little pertly. 

“‘ And if I had, it would have been such 
a one aS no woman need be ashamed to 
hear attached to her name. But enough 
of this; I have given Peggy Perott, and 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


you are bound to drink her,’’—that we 

had done already, ‘‘and now, cousin, as I 

have passed through the fiery furnace—’’ 

— €Unscathed ?’’ demanded Lucy, laugh- 
ing ready to kill herself. 

«Yes, unscathed, miss : and now, 
cousin, I ask of you to honor us with a 
toast.’’ . 

Mrs. Bradfort had been a widow many 
years, and was fortified with the panoply 
of her state. Accustomed to such appeals, 
which, when she was young and hand- 
some, had been of much more frequent 
occurrence than of late, she held her glass 
for the wine with perfect self-possession, 
and gave her toast with the conscious 
dignity of one who had often been solicited 
in vain ‘‘ to change her condition.’’ 

«<7 will give you,”’ she said, raising her 
person and her voice, as if to invite 
scrutiny, “‘“my dear old friend, good Dr. 
Wilson.”’ 

It was incumbent on a single person to 
give another who was also single; and 
the widow had been true to the usage ; 
but ‘‘good Dr. Wilson’? was a half su- 
perannuated clergyman, whom no one 
could suspect of inspiring anything be- 
yond friendship. | 

«‘Dear me—dear me!”’ cried Mr. Har- 
dinge, earnestly; ‘‘how much more 
thoughtful, Mrs. Bradfort, you are than 
myself! Had I thought a moment, I 
might have given the Doctor; for I 
studied with him, and honor him vastly.’’ 

This touch of simplicity produced an- 
other laugh—how easily we all laughed 
that night !—and it caused a little more 
confusiofi in the excellent divine. Mrs. 
Bradfort then called on me, as was her 
right ; but I begged that Rupert might 
precede me, he knowing more persons, 
and being now a sort of man of the world. 

*«“T will give the charming Miss Win- 
throp,’’ said Rupert, without a moment’s 
hesitation, tossing off his glass with an 
air that said, ‘‘how do you like that ?”’ 

As Winthrop was a highly respectable 
name, it denoted the set in which Rupert 
moved ; and as for the young lady, I dare 
say she merited his eulogium, though I 
never happened to seeher. It was some- 
thing, however, in 1802, for a youngster to 


413 


dare to toast a Winthrop, or a Morris, or 
a Livingston, or a De Lancey, or a Stuy- 
vesant, or a Beekman, or a Van Renssel- 
laer, or a Schuyler, or a Rutherford, or a 
Bayard, or a Watts, or a Van Cortlandt, 
or a Verplanck, or a Jones, or a Walton, 
or any of that set. They, and twenty 
similar families, composed the remnant 
of the colonial aristocracy, and still made. 
head, within the limits of Manhattan, 
against the inroads of the Van—some- 
thing elses. Alas! alas! how changed 
is all this, though I am obliged to believe 
it is all for the best. 

‘Do you know Miss Winthrop?’ I 
asked of Grace, in a whisper. 

«“Not at all; I am not much in that 
set,’’ she answered, quietly. ‘* Rupert 
and Lucy have been noticed by many per- 
sons whom I do not know.”’ 

This was the first intimation 1 got that 
my sister did not possess all the advan- 
tages in society that were enjoyed by her 
friend. Asis always the case where it is 
believed to be our loss, I felt indignant at 
first ; had it been the reverse, I dare say I 
should have fancied it all very right. 
Cénsequences grew out of these distinc- 
tions which I could not then foresee, but 
which will be related in their place. Ru- 
pert now called on Grace for her toast, a 
lady commonly succeeding a gentleman. 
My sister did not seem in the least discon- 
certed : but, after a moment’s hesitation, 
she said— 

‘«¢Mr. Edward Marston.”’ 

This was a strange name to me, but I 
afterward ascertained it belonged to a 
respectable young man who visited Mrs. 
Bradfort’s, and who stood very well with 
all his acquaintances. Ilooked at Rupert, 
to note the effect ; but Rupert was as calm 
as Grace herself had been when he gave 
Miss Winthrop. 

‘‘T believe I have no one to call upon 
but you, Miles,’’ said Grace, smiling. 

“Me! Why, you all know I am not 
acquainted with a soul. Our _ Ulster 
County girls have almost gone out of 
my recollection; besides, no one would 
know them here, should I mention 
twenty.”’ 

‘You strangely forget, brother, that 


414 


most of us are Ulster County folk. Try 
if you can recall no young lady—’’ 

‘‘Oh! easily enough, for that matter ; 
a young fellow can hardly have lived nine 
months in the same cabin with Emily, and 
not think of her when hard pushed; I will 
give you Miss Emily Merton.’’ 

The toast was drunk, and I thought Mr. 
Hardinge looked thoughtful, like one who 
had a guardian’s cares, and that Grace 
was even grave. I did not dare look at 
Lucy, though I could have toasted her all 
night, had it been in rule to drink a per- 
son who was present. We began to chat 
again, and I had answered some eight or 
ten questions, when Mrs. Bradfort, much 
too precise to make any omissions, re- 
minded us that we had not yet been hon- 
ored with Miss Lucy Hardinge’s toast. 
Lucy had enjoyed plenty of time to re- 
fiect; and she bowed, paused a moment 
as if to summon resolution, and then men- 
tioned— 

‘*Mr. Andrew Drewett.’’ 

So, then, Lucy Hardinge toasted this 
Mr. Drewett—the very youth with whom 
she had been in such animated discourse 
when I first met the party! Had I beén 
more familiar with the world, I should 
have thought nothing of a thing that was 
so common; or, did I understand human 
nature better, I might have known that 
no sensitive and delicate woman would 
betray a secret that was dear to her, under 
so idle a form. But I was young, and 
ready myself to toast the girl I preferred 
before the universe ; and I could not make 
suitable allowances for difference of sex 
and temperament. Lucy’s toast made 
me very uncomfortable for the rest of the 
evening; and I was not sorry when 
Rupert reminded me that it was eleven, 
and that he would go with me to a tavern, 
in order to look for a room. 

The next morning was passed in trans- 
acting the business of the ship. I found 
myself much noticed among the merchants 
and ship-masters ; and one of my owners 
took me on ’Change, that I might see and 
be seen. As the papers had spoken of the 
recapture of the Criszs, on the arrival of 
the Pretty Poll, and had now each an 
article on the arrival of the ship, I had 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


every reason to be satisfied with my re- 
ception. . 
There are men so strong in principle, as 
well as intellect, I do suppose, that they 
can be content with the approbation of 
their own consciences, and who can smile 
at the praises or censure of the world 
alike ; but I confess to a strong sympathy 
with the commendation of my fellow-crea- 
tures, and as strong a distate for their 
disapprobation. I know this is not the 
way to make a great man; for he who 
cannot judge, feel, and act for himself, 
will always be in danger of making undue 
sacrifices to the wishes of others ; but you 
can have no more of a cat than the skin ; 


and I was sufficiently proud at finding © 


myself a miniature hero, about the lower 
end of Wall Street and in the columns of 
the newspapers. As for these last, no 
one can complain of their zeal in extol- 
ling everything national. To believe 
them, the country never was wrong, or 
defeated, or ina condition to be defeated, 
except when a political opponent could be 
made to suffer by an opposite theory ; and 
then nothing was ever right. As to fame, 
I have since discovered they consider that 
of each individual to be public property, 
in which each American has a part and 
parcel, the editors, themselves, more than 
the man who has thrown the article. into 
the common lot. But I was young in 
1802, and even a paragraph in my praise 
in a newspaper had a certain charm for 
me, that I will not deny. Then I had 


done well, as even my enemies, if I had ~ 


any, must have admitted. 


CHAPTER XXII. 


‘‘Ships are but boards, sailors but men; there be a 


land-rats and water-rats, water-thieves and land- 
thieves—I mean pirates; and then there is the peril 
of waters, winds, and rocks; the man is, notwith- 
standing, sufficient;—-three thousand ducats;—I 
think I may take his bond.’’—SHYLOCK. 


I saw Grace, and Lucy, and Rupert, ; 


and good Mr. Hardinge every day, but I 


could not find time to call on the Mertons - 


until near the close of a week. I then 
paid them a visit, and found them glad to 
See me, but not at all in want of my at- 


a 
, 


| 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


tentions to make them comfortable. The 
major had exhibited his claims to the 
British consul, who happened to be a 
native Manhattanese, and was well-con- 
nected, a circumstance that then gave 
him an influence in society that his com- 
mission alone would not have conferred. 
Colonel Barclay, for so was this gentle- 
man called, had taken the Mertons by the 
hand as a matter of course, and his ex- 
ample being followed by others, I found 
that they were already in the best circle 
of the place. Kmily mentioned to me the 
names.of several of those with whom she 
had exchanged visits, and I knew at once, 
through Lucy’s and Grace’s conversation, 
and from. my own general knowledge of 
the traditions of the colony and State, 
that they were among the leading people 
of the land, socially if not politically; a 
class altogether above any with whom I 
had myself ever associated. Now I knew 
that the master of a merchantman, what- 
ever might be his standing with his owner 
or consignee, or the credit he had gained 
among his fellows, was not likely to get 
admission into this set; and there was 
the comfortable prospect before me of 
having my own sister and the two other 
girls | admired most and loved best in the 
world—next to Grace, of course—visiting 
round in houses of which the doors were 
shut against myself. This is always nn- 
pleasant, but m my case it turned out to 
be more. 

When I told Emily that Grace and 
Lucy were in town, and intended coming 
to see her that very morning, I thought 
she manifested less curiosity than would 
have been the case a month before. 

“‘Is Miss Hardinge a relative of Mr. 
Rupert Hardinge, the gentleman to whom 
I was introduced at dinner, yesterday ? ”’ 
she demanded, after expressing the pleas- 
ure it would give her to see the ladies. 

I knew that Rupert had dined out the 
day before, and there being no one else of 
the same name, I answered in the affirma- 
tive. 

** He is the son of a respectable clergy- 
man,* and of very good connections, I 
hear.”’ 


‘““The Hardinges are so considered | 


415 


among us; both Rupert’s father and 
grandfather were clergymen, and his 
great-grandfather was a seaman—lI trust 
you will think none the worse of him for 
that.’’ 

“A sailor! I had supposed, from what 
some of those present said—that is, I did 
not know it.’’ 

“‘ Perhaps they told you that his great- 
grandfather was a British officer ?”’ 

Emily colored, and then she laughed 
faintly, admitting, however, that I had 
guessed right. 

“Well, all this was true,’’ I added, 
“though he was a sailor. Old Captain 
Hardinge—or Commodore Hardinge, as 
he used to be called, for he once com- 
manded a squadron—was in the English 
navy.”’ 

“Oh! that sort of a sailor!’ cried 
Emily, quickly. ‘‘I did not know that it 
was usual to call gentlemen in the navy 
seamen.”’ 

— They would make a poor figureif they 
were not, Miss Merton; you might as well 
say that a judge is no lawyer.”’ 

This was enough, however, to satisfy 
me that Miss Merton no longer considered 
the master of the Criszs the first man in 
the world. 

A ring announced the arrival of the two 
girls. They were shown up, and I soon 
had the satisfaction of seeing these three 
charming young women together. Emily 
received her two guests very courteously, 
and was frank, nay warm, in the expres- 
sion of her gratitude for all that I had 
done for herself and her father. She even 
went back so far as to speak of the occur- 
rence in the park, at London, and was 
gracious enough to declare that she and 
her parents owed their lives to my inter- 
ference. All this gave her listeners great 
pleasure, for I believe neither ever tired 
of hearing my praises. After this open- 
ing, the conversation turned on New York, 
its gayeties, and the different persons 
known to them mutually. I saw that the 
two girls were struck with the set Miss 
Merton was in, which was a shade superior 
even to that of Mrs. Bradfort’s, though 
the fusion which usually accompanies that 
sort of thing brought portions of each cir- 


416 WORKS 


cle within the knowledge of the other. 
As the persons named were utter stran- 
gers to me, [ had nothing to say, and sat 
listening in silence. The opportunity was 
improved by comparing the girls with 
each other. 

In delicacy of appearance, Grace and 
Lucy each had the advantage of the En- 
glish beauty. Their hands and feet were 
smailer, their waists finer, and _ their 
tournures, generally, I thought the most 
pleasing. Emily had the advantage in 
complexion, though her color had less 
fineness and delicacy. Perhaps her teeth 
were the most brilliant; though Grace 
and Lucy, particularly the latter, had 
very fine teeth. The English girl’s 
shoulders and bust, generally, would 
have been more admired than those of 
most American—particularly than. most 
New York—girls; but it was not possi- 
ble to surpass those of Lucy. As a whole, 
EKmily’s countenance had the most spirit, 
Lucy’s the most fineness and feeling. IT 
make no comparison with the expression 
of Grace’s countenance, which was alto- 
gether too remarkable for its intellectual 
character to be included in anything like 
@ national classification. I remember I 
thought, as they sat there in a row con- 
versing frankly and cheerfully together, 
Lucy the handsomest in her pretty neat 
morning dress; while I had my doubts 
whether Kmily would not have extorted 
the most applause in a ball room. This 
distinction is mentioned, because I believe 
it national. 

The visit lasted an hour; for I had ex- 
pressed a wish to all parties that they 
would become acquainted, and the girls 
seemed mutually pleased. As they chat- 
ted, I listened to the tones of their voices, 
and fancied, on the whole, that Emily 
had slightly the advantage in intonation 
and accent; though it was scarcely per- 
ceptible, and it was an advantage that 
was attended by a slight sacrifice of the 
charm of natural utterance. She was a 
little more artificial. in this respect than 
her companions, and insomuch less pleas- 
ing; though, had the comparison been 
made with the Manhattan style of the 
present day, the odds would have been 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


immensely in her favor. In 1802, how- — 
ever, Some attention was still paid to the 
utterance, tones of voice, and manner of 
speaking of young ladies. The want of it 
all, just now, is the besetting vice of the 
whole of our later instruction of the sex ; 
it being almost as rare a thing nowadays 
to find a young American girl who speaks 
her own language gracefully, as it is to 
find one who is not of pleasing person. 

When the young ladies parted, it was 
with an understanding that they were 
soon to meet again. I shook hands with 
Kmily, English fashion, and took my oe 
at the same time. 

‘Well, Miles,”’ said Grace, as soon as 
we were in the street, ‘“‘ you have certainly 
been of service to a very charming young 
woman—l like her, excessively.” 

“And you, Lucy—I hope you agree 
with Grace, in thinking my friend, Emily 
Merton, a charming young woman.”’ 

Lucy did not speak as frankly, or as de- 
cidedly as Grace, so far as manner was — 
concerned ; though she coincided in words. 

‘‘Tam of the same opinion,” she said, in 
a tone that was far less cheerful than her 
usually very cheerful manner. ‘‘ She is 
one of the loveliest creatures I ever saw 
—and it is no wonder—”’ 

‘“What is’no wonder, dear?’”’ asked 
Grace, observing that her friend hesitated 
to proceed. 

“Oh! I was about to say something 
Silly, and had better not finish the speech. 
But what a finished manner Miss Merton 
possesses; do you not think so, Grace?” — 

‘“‘T wish she had a little less of it, dear; 
that is precisely what I should find fault 
with in her deportment. It 7s manner, 
and, though we all must have -some, 
it strikes me it ought not to be seen. TI 
think all the Kuropeans we saw in town, 
last winter, Lucy, had more or less of this 
manner.”’ | 

*‘T dare say it would seem so to ws ; not- 
withstanding, it may be very agreeable to — 
those who are used to it—a thing to miss, 
when one gets much accustomed to it.”’ 

As Lucy made this remark, I detected a 
furtive and timid glance at myself. I 
was mystified at the time, and was actu- 


lally so silly as to think the dear girl was 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


talking at me, and to feel a little resent- 
ment. I fancied she wished to say, 
‘There, Master Miles, you have been in 
London, and on a desert island in the 
South Seas—the very extremes of human 
habits—and have got to be so sophisti- 
cated, so very un-Clawbonnyish, as to feel 
the necessity of a manner, in the young 
ladies with whom you associate.’’ The 
notion nettled me to a degree that induced 
me to pretend duty, and to hurry down to 
the ship. Whom should I meet, in Rector 
Street, but Mr. Hardinge, who had been 
across to the Hudson in search of me. 

““Come hither, Miles,’’ said the excel- 
lent old man, ‘‘I wish to converse with you 
seriously.’’ 

As Lucy was uppermost in my thoughts 
at the moment, I said to myself—‘‘ What 
can the dear old gentleman have to say, 
now?” 

“‘T hear from all quarters the best ac- 
counts of you, my dear boy,’’ Mr. Har- 
dinge continued, ‘‘and Lam told you make 
a very superior seaman. It is a feather 
in your cap, indeed, to have commanded 
an Indiaman a twelvemonth before you 
are of age. Ihave been conversing with 
my old friend John Murray, of the house 
of John Murray & Sons, one of the very 
best merchants in America, and he says 
‘push the boy ahead when you find the 
right stuff in him. Get him a ship of his 
own, and that will put him on the true 
track. Teach him early to have an eye 
to his own interests, and it will make a 
man of him at once.’ I have thought the 
matter over, have had a vessel in my eye, 
for the last month, and will purchase her 
at once, if you like the plan.”’ 

*‘But have I money enough for such a 
thing, my dear sir—after having sailed in 
the John, and the Tigris, and the Crisis, 
I should not like to take up with any of 
~ your B’s, No. 2.”’ 

“You have forgotten to mention the 
Pretty Poll, Miles,’’ said the divine, 
smiling. ‘‘Be under no fear, however, 
for your dignity ; the vessel I have in 
treaty is all you could wish, they tell 
me, having made but one voyage, and is 
sold on account of the death of her owner. 
As for money, you will remember I have 

1V.—14 . 


417 


thirteen thousand dollars of your income 
invested in stocks, and stocks that cost 
but ten. The peace has brought every- 
thing up, and you are making money, 
right and left. How have your own pay 
and private venture turned out ?”’ 

‘‘Perfectly well, sir. I am near three 
thousand dollars in pocket, and shall have 
no need to call on you for my personal 
wants. Then I have my prize money to 
touch. Even Neb, wages and _ prize- 
money, brings me nine hundred dollars. 
With your permission, sir, I should like to 
give the fellow his freedom.”’ , 

“Wait till you are of age, Miles, and 
then you can do as you please. I hold 
four thousand dollars of your invested 
money, which has been paid in, and I have 
placed it in stocks. Altogether, I find 
we can muster in solid cash more than 
twenty thousand dollars, while the price 
of the ship, as she stands, almost ready 
for sea, is only fifteen. Now, go and look 
at the vessel; if you like her I will close 
the bargain at once.”’ 

«But, my dear Mr. Hardinge, do you 
think yourself exactly qualified to judge 
of the value of a ship ?”’ 

«“Poh ! poh! don’t imagine I am so con- 
ceited as to purchase on my own knowl- 
edge. Ihave taken some of the very best 
advice of the city. There is John Murray, 
to begin with—a great shipbuilder himself, 
and Archibald Gracie, and William Bay- 
ard—all capital judges, have taken an in- 
terest in the affair. Three others of my 
friends have walked round to look at the 
vessel, and all approve—not a dissenting 
voice.”’ 

‘‘May I ask, sir, who have seen her, 
besides the gentlemen you have named? 
They, I admit, are, indeed, good judges.”’ 

‘«“Why—why—yes—do you happen to 
know anything of Doctor Benjamin Moore, 
now, Miles ?’’ 

‘Never heard of him, sir, in my life; 
but a physician can be no great judge of 
a ship.”’ 

‘No more of a physician than your- 
self, boy — Doctor Benjamin Moore, the 
gentleman we elected bishop, while you 
were absent——”’ 

‘Oh! he you wished to toast, instead 


418 


of Miss Peggy Perott,’’ cried I, smiling. 
““Well, what does the bishop think of 
her—if he approve, she must be ortho- 
dox.”’ 

‘‘He says she is the handsomest ves- 
sel he ever laid eyes on, Miles; and let 
me tell you, the favorable opinion of so 
good aman as Doctor Moore is of value, 
even though it be about a ship.”’ 

I could not avoid laughing, and I dare 
say most of the readers will also, at this 
touch of simplicity ; and yet, why should 
not a bishop know as much of ships as a 
set of ignoramuses who never read a theo- 
logical book in their lives, some of them 
not even the Bible, know about bishops ? 
The circumstance was not a tittle more 
absurd than many that are occurring 
daily before our eyes, and to which, purely 
from habit, we submit, very much as a 
matter of course. 

‘‘ Well, sir,’’ I replied, as soon as I 
could, ‘‘I will look at the ship, get her 
character, and give you an answer at 
once. I like the idea, for it is pleasant to 
be one’s own master.”’ 

In that day fifteen thousand dollars 
would buy a very excellent ship, as ships 
went. The vessel I was taken to see was 
coppered and copper-fastened, butt-bolted, 
and she measured just five hundred tons. 
She had a great reputation as a sailer, 
and, what was thought a good deal of in 
1802, was Philadelphia built. She had 
been one voyage to China, and was little 
more than a year old, or the best possible 
age for a vessel. Her name was the 
Dawn, and she carried an ‘* Aurora ”’ 
for her figure-head. Whether she were, 
or were not, inclined to Puseyism, I never 
could ascertain, although I can affirm she 
had the services of the Protestant Episco- 
pal Church read on board her afterward 
on more than one occasion. 

The result of my examination and in- 
quiries was favorable,gand, by the end of 
the week, the Dawn was purchased. The 
owners of the Criszs were pleased to ex- 
press their regrets, for they had intended 
that I should continue in the command of 
their vessel, but no one could object toa 
man’s wishing to sail in his own employ- 
ment. I made this important acquisition 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


at what was probably the most auspicious 
moment of American navigation. It is a 
proof of this that, the very day I was put 
in possession of the ship, good freights 
were offered to no less than four different 
parts of the world. I had my choice be- 


tween Holland, France, England, and 


China. After consulting with my guar- 
dian, I accepted that to France, which not 
only paid the. best, but I was desirous of 
Seeing more of the world than had yet 
fallen to my share. I could make a voy- 
age to Bordeaux and back in five months, 
and by the end of that time I should be of 
age, and, consequently my own master. 
As I intended to have great doings at 
Clawbonny on that occasion, I thought it 
might be well not to go too far from home. 
Accordingly, after shipping Talcott and 
the Philadelphian, whose name was Wal- 
ton, for my mates, we began to take in 
cargo as soon as possible. 

In the meantime I bethought me of a 
visit to the paternal home. It was a 
season of the year when most people, who 
were anybodies, left town, and the villas 
along the shores of the Hudson had long 
been occupied. Mr. Hardinge, too, pined 
for the country and his flock. The girls 
had had enough of town, which was get- 
ting to be very dull, and everybody, Ru- 
pert excepted, seemed anxious to go up 
the river. I had invited the Mertons to 
pass part of the summer at the farm, 
moreover, and it was time the invitation 
should be renewed, for the major’s phy- 


Sicians had advised him to choose some 


cooler residence than the streets of a hot, 


| close town could furnish during the sum- 


mer months. Emily had been so much 
engrossed with the set into which she had 


fallen since her landing, and which it was — 


easy forme to see was altogether supe- 
rior to that in which she had lived at 
home, that I was surprised at the readi- 


ness with which she urged her father to ; 


redeem his promise. 


‘Mr. Hardinge tells me, sir, that Claw- _ 
bonny is really a pretty spot,’’ she said, — 
‘‘and the country around it is thought to — 


be very healthy. You cannot get an- 
swers from home (she meant England) 


for several months, and I know Captain : 


‘ 


a 


‘| 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


Wallingford will be happy to receive us. 
Besides we are pledged to accept this 
additional favor from him.”’ | 

I thought Major Merton felt some of 
my own surprise at Emily’s earnestness 
and manner, but his resistance was very 
feeble. The old gentleman’s health, in- 
deed, was pretty thoroughly undermined, 
and I began to have serious doubts of his 
living even to return to Kurope. He had 
some relatives in Boston, and had opened 
a correspondence with them, and I had 
thought more than once of the expediency 
of apprising them of his situation. At 
present, however, nothing better could be 
done than to get him into the country. 

Having made all the arrangements 
with the others, I went to persuade 
Rupert to be of the party, for I thought 
it would make both Grace and Lucy so 
much the happier. 

Miles, my dear fellow,’’ said the 
younger student, gaping, ‘‘Clawbonny is 
certainly a capitalish place, but, you will 
admit, it is somewhat stupid after New 
York. My good kinswoman, Mrs. Brad- 
fort, has taken such a fancy to us all, and 
has made me so comfortable—would you 
believe it, boy, she has actually given me 
six hundred a year, for the last two years, 
besides making Lucy presents fit for a 
queen. <A sterling woman is she, this 
cousin Margaret of ours! ”’ 

I heard this, truly, not without surprise ; 
for, in settling with my owners, I found 
Rupert had drawn every cent to which he 
was entitled, under the orders I had left 
when | last went to sea. 

As Mrs. Bradfort was more than at her 
ease, however, had no nearer relative than 
Mr. Hardinge, and was much attached to 
the family, I had no difficulty in believing 
it true, so far as the lady’s liberality was 
concerned. I heartily wished Rupert had 
possessed more self-respect ; but he was, 
as he was ! 

*‘T am sorry you cannot go with us,” 
I answered, “for I counted on you to help 
amuse the Mertons——”’ 

*“The Mertons! Why, surely, they are 
not going to pass the summer at Claw- 
bonny !”’ | 

‘They quit town with us, to-morrow. 


419 


Why should not the Mertons pass the 
summer at Clawbonny ? ”’ 

“Why, Miles, my dear boy, you know 
how it is with the world—how it is with 
these English, in particular. They think 
everything of rank, you know, and are 
devotees of the style and appearance, and 
all that sort of thing, you know, as no one 
understands better than myself; for I 
pass most of my time in the English set, 


| you know.”’ 


I did not then understand what had 
come over Rupert, though it is all plain 
enough to me now. He had, truly enough, 
got into what was then called the English 
set. Now there is no question, that, so 
far as the natives, themselves, were con- 
cerned, this was as good a set as ever 
existed in this country; and it is also 
beyond all cavil, that many respectable 
English persons, of both sexes, were oc- 
casionally found in it; but it had this 
great defect :—every Englishman who 
wore a good coat, and had any of the 
slang of society, made his way into the 
outskirts, at least, of this set; and Ru- 
pert, whose own position was not yet 
thoroughly confirmed, had fallen a great 
deal into the association of these acciden- 
tal comers and goers. They talked large, 
drank deep, and had a lofty disdain for 
everything in the country, though it was 
very certain they were just then in much 
better company where they were than 
they had ever been at home. Like most 
tyros, Rupert fancied these blustering 
gentry classes to imitate; and, as they 
seldom conversed ten minutes without 
having something to say of my Lord A— 
or Sir John B—, persons they had read of 
or seen in the streets, he was weak enough 
to imagine they knew all about the digni- 
taries of the British empire. As Rupert 
was really a gentleman, and had good 
manners naturally, it was a grievous thing 
to see him fashioning himself anew, as it 
were, on such very questionable models. 

‘‘Clawbonny is not a stylish place, I 
am ready to allow,’’ I answered, after a 
moment of hesitation ; ‘‘still, it is respect- 
able. There is a good farm, a valuable 
mill, and a good, old, comfortable, strag- 
gling, stone house.”’ 


420 WORKS 


‘‘Very true, Miles, my dear fellow, and 
all as dear to me, you know, as the apple 
of my-eye—but jfarmish—young ladies 
like the good things that come from 
farms, but do not admire the homeliness 
of the residence. I speak of your English 
ladies, in particular. Now, you see, Major 
Merton is a field-officer, and that is hav- 
ing good rank in a respectable profession, 
you know—I suppose you understand, 
Miles, that the king puts most of his sons 
into the army, or navy—all this makes a 
difference, you understand !”’ 

‘7 understand nothing about it; what 
is it to me where the King of England 
puts his son ? ”’ 

*“‘T wish, my dear Miles, if the truth 
must be said, that you and I had been a 
little less boyish, when we were boys, 
than happened to be the case. It would 
have been all the better for us both.”’ 

“Well, I wish no such thing. A boy 
should be a boy, andamanaman. Iam 
content to have been a boy, while I was a 
boy. It is a fault in this country, that 
boys fancy themselves men too soon.”’ 

“* Ah! my dear fellow, you wvll not, or 
do not understand me. What I mean is, 
that we were both precipitate in the choice 
of a profession—I retired in time, but you 
persevere; that is all.’’ 

*“You did retire in season, my lad, if 
truth is what you are after; for had you 
stayed a hundred years on board ship, you 
never would have made a sailor.”’ 

When I said this I fancied I had uttered 
a pretty severe thing. Rupert took it so 
coolly, however, as to satisfy me at once 
that he thought differently on the subject. 

*‘Clearly, it is not my vocation. Na- 
ture intended me for something better, I 
trust, and I mistook a boyish inclination 
for a taste. <A little experience taught 
me better, and I am now where I feel I 
ought to be. I wish, Miles, you had come 
to the study of the law, at the time you 
went to sea. You would have been, by 
this time, at the bar, and would have had 
a definite position in society.”’ 

‘‘lam very glad I did not. What the 
deuce should I have done as a lawyer—or 
what advantage would it hawe been to me 
to be admitted to the bar? ”’ 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


‘‘ Advantage! Why, my dear fellow, 
every advantage in the world. You 
know how it is in this country, I suppose, 
in the way of society, my dear Miles ? ”’ 

‘“ Not I—and, by the little I glean from 
the manner you sheer about in your dis- 
course, I wish to know nothing. Do 
young men study law merely to be gen- 
teel ? ’’ 

‘Do not despise knowledge, my boy ; it 
is of use, even in trifles. Now in this 
country, you know, we have very few 
men of mere leisure—heirs of estates to 
live on their incomes, as is done in Europe; 
but nine-tenths of us must follow profes- 
sions, of which there are only half a dozen 
suitable for a gentleman. The army and 
navy are nothing, you know; two or 
three regiments scattered about in the 
woods, and half a dozen vessels. After 
these there remain the three learned pro- 
fessions, divinity, law, and physic. In our 
family divinity has run out, I fear. As 
for physic, ‘throw physic to the dogs,’ as 
Miss Merton says——”’ 

‘“Who?’’ I exclaimed, in surprise. 
““<'Throw physic to the dogs ’—why, that 
is Shakespeare, man ! ”’ 

‘‘T know it, and it is Miss Emily Mer. 
ton’s too. You have made us acquainted 
with a charming creature, at least, Miles, 
by this going to sea. Her notions on such 
subjects are as accurate as a sun-dial.’’ 

‘‘And has Miss Emily Merton ever con- 
versed with you on the subject of my pro- 
fession, Rupert ? ”’ 

‘“‘Indeed she has, and regretted it, 
again and again. You know as well as I 
do, Miles, to be a sailor, other than in a 
navy, is not a genteel profession ! ”’ 

I broke out into a fit of laughter at this 
remark. It struck me as infinitely droll, 
and as somewhat silly. I knew my pre- 
cise position in society, perfectly ; and had 
none of the silly swaggering about per- 
sonal merit, and of ‘‘one man’s being as 
good as another,”’ that has since got into 
such general use among us; and under- 
stood perfectly the useful and unavoid- 


able classifications that take place in all — 


civilized communities, and which, while 
they are attended by certain disadvan- 
tages as exceptions, prove great benefits 


i ee 


a aoa Rete SP Biel y 1 See sie o 


————— 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


as a whole, and was not disposed at all to 

exaggerate my claims or to deny my de- 
ficiencies. But the idea of attaching any 
considerations of gentility to my noble, 
manly, daring profession, sounded so 
absurd [I could not avoid laughing. 
In a few moments, however, I became 
grave. 

«‘Harkee, Rupert,’’ said 1; ‘‘1 trust 
Miss Merton does not think I endeavored 
to mislead her as to my true position, or 
to make her think I was a greater person- 

age than I truly am ?”’ 

© 7’1]1 not answer for that. When we 
were first acquainted, I found she had 
certain notions about Clawbonny, and 
your estate, and all that, which were 
rather English, you know. Now in Eng- 
land, an estate gives a man a certain con- 
sideration, whereas land is so plenty with 
us, that we think nothing of the man who 
happens to own a little of it. Stock, in 
America, as it is so much nearer ready 
money, is a better thing than land, you 
know.”’ 

How true was this, even ten years since ; 
how false is it to-day! The proprietor of 
tens of thousands of acres was, indeed, 
under the paper money régime, a less 
important man than the owner of a hand- 
ful of scrip, which has had all its value 
squeezed out of it, little by little. That 
was truly the age when the representative 
of property was of far more importance 
than the property itself; and all because 
the country existed in a fever that set 
everything in motion. We shall see just 
such times again, I fear. 

‘«¢But what had Emily Merton to do 
with all this!” 

‘‘Miss Merton? Oh! she is English, 
you know, and felt as English persons 
always do at the sound of acres. I set it 
all right, however, and you need be under 
no concern.”’ 

‘The devil you did! 
what manner was this done? 
the matter set right ?”’ 

Rupert took the cigar from his mouth, 
suffered the smoke to issue, by a small, 
deliberate jet, cocking his nose up at the 
same time, as if observing the stars, and 
then deigned to give me an answer. Your 


And, pray, in 
How was 


421 


smokers have such a disdainful, ultra- 
philosophical manner, sometimes ! 

‘“Why, just in this way, my fine fellow. 
I told her Clawbonny was a farm, and 
not an estate, you know; that did a good 
deal, of itself. Then I entered into an 
explanation of the consideration of farm- 


‘ers in this country, you know, and made 


it all as plain as A BC. She is a quick 
girl, is Emily, and takes a thing remark- 
ably soon.”’ 

‘Did Miss Merton say anything to in- 
duce you to suppose she thought the less 
of me, for these explanations ? ”’ 

‘¢Of course not—she values you amaz- 
ingly—quite worships you, as a savlor— 
thinks you a sort of merchant captain 
Nelson, or Blake, or Truxtun, and all that 
sort of thing. All young ladies, however, 
are exceedingly particular about profes- 
sions, I suppose you know, Miles, as well 
as I do myself.’’ 

«What, Lucy, Rupert? Do you imag- 
ine Lucy cares a straw about my not 
being a lawyer, for instance ?”’ 

“Do 1? Out of all question. Don’t 
you remember how the girls wept— 
Grace as well as Lucy—when we went to 
sea, boy. It was all on account of the 
ungentility of the profession, if a fellow 
can use such a word.”’ 

I did not believe this, for I knew Grace 
better, to say the least; and thought I 
understood Lucy sufficiently, at that time, 
to know she wept because she was sorry 
to see me go away. Still, Lucy had 
grown from a very young girl, since I 
sailed in the Crisis, into a young woman, 
and might view things differently, now, 
from what she had done three years be- 
fore. IL had not time, however, for fur- 
ther discussion at that moment, and lL 
cut the matter short. 

«Well, Rupert, what am I to expect ? ”’ 
Lasked ; ‘‘ Clawbonny, or no Clawbonny?”’ 

«“ Why, now you say the Mertons are to 
be of the party, I suppose I shall have 
to go; it would be inhospitable else. Ido. 
wish, Miles, you would manage to estab- 
lish visiting relations with some of the 
families on the other side of the river. 
There are plenty of respectable people 
within a few hours’ sail of Clawbonny.”’ 


422 


‘‘ My father, and my grandfather, and 
my great-grandfather, managed, as you 
call it, to get along for the last hundred 
years, well enough on the west side; and, 
_ although we are not quite as genteel as 
the east, we will do well enough. The 
Wallingford sails early in the morning, 
to save the tide ; and I hope your lordship 
will turn out in season, and not keep us 
waiting. If you do, I shall be ungenteel 
enough to leave you behind.’’ 

I left Rupert with a feeling in which 
disgust and anger were blended. I wish 
to be understood, more particularly, as I 
know I am writing for a stiff-necked gen- 
eration. I never was guilty of the weak- 
ness of decrying a thing because I did not 
happen to possess it myself. I knew my 
own place in the social scale perfectly ; 
nor was I, as I have just said, in the least 
inclined to fancy that one man was as 
good as another. I knew very well that 
this was not true, either in nature or in 
the social relations; in political axioms, 
any more than in political truths. At 
the same time, I did not believe nature 
had created men unequal, in the order of 
primogeniture, from male to male. 

Keeping in view all the facts, I was per- 
fectly disposed to admit that habits, edu- 
cation, association, and sometimes chance 
and caprice, drew distinctions that pro- 
duced great benefits, as a whole ; in some 
small degree qualified, perhaps, by cases 
of individual injustice. This last excep- 
tion, however, being applicable to all 
things human, it had no influence on my 
opinions, which were sound and healthful 
on all these points; practical, common- 
sense like, and in conformity with the de- 
cisions of the world from the time of Moses 
down to our own, or, I dare day, of Adam 
himself, if the truth could be known; and, 
as I have said more than once in these 
rambling memoirs, I was not disposed to 
take a false view of my own social posi- 
tion. I belonged, at most, to the class of 
small proprietors, as they existed in the 
last century, and filled a very useful and 
respectable niche between the yeoman and 
gentleman, considering the last strictly in 
reference to the upper class of that day. 
Now it struck me that Emily Merton, 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


with her English notions, might very well 
draw the distinctions Rupert had men- 
tioned; nor am I conscious of having 
cared much about it, though she did. If 
I were a less important person on terra 


jirma, with all the usages and notions of 


ordinary society producing their influence, 
than I had been when in command of the 
Crisis, in the center of the Pacific, so 
was Miss Merton a less important young 
lady, in the midst of the beauty of New 
York, than she had been in the isolation 
of Marble Land. This I could feel very 
distinctly. 

But Lucy’s supposed defection did more 
than annoy me. I felt humbled, morti- 
fied, grieved. I had always known that 
Lucy was better connected than I was 
myself, and I had ever given Rupert and 
her the benefit of this advantage, as some 
offset to my own and Grace’s larger 
means; but it had never struck me that 


either the brother or sister would be dis- 


posed to look down upon us in consequence. 
The world is everywhere—and America, 
on account of its social vicissitudes, more 
than most other countries—constantly 
exhibiting pictures of the struggles be- 
tween fallen consequence and rising 
wealth. The last may and does have the 
best of it, in the mere physical part of the 
Strife; but in the more moral, if such a 
word can be used, the quiet ascendency 
of better manners and ancient recollec- 
tions is very apt to overshadow the fussy 
pretensions of the vulgar aspirant, who 
places his claims altogether on the all- 
mighty dollar. It is vain to deny it; men 
ever have done it, and probably ever will 
defer to the past, in matters of this sort— 
it being much with us, in this particular, 
as it is with our own lives, which have 
had all their greatest enjoyments in by- 
gone days. I knew all this—felt all this— 
and was greatly afraid that Lucy, through 
Mrs. Bradfort’s influence, and her town 
associations, might have learned to re- 
gard me as Captain Wallingford, of the 
merchant-service, and the son of another 
Captain Wallingford of the same line in 
life. I determined, therefore, to watch 
her with jealous attention, during the few 
days I was to remain at Clawbonny. 


{ 
i 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


With such generous intentions, the reader 
is not to be surprised if I found some of 
that for which I so earnestly sought— 
people being very apt to find precisely 
_ the thing for which they look, when it is 
not lost money. 

The next morning we were all punctual, 
and sailed at the proper hour. The Mer- 
tons seemed pleased with the river, and, 
having a fresh southerly wind in our favor, 
with a strong flood-tide, we actually 
landed at the mill the same afternoon. 
Everything is apt to be agreeable when 
the traveler gets on famously; and I 
thought I never saw Emily in better 
spirits than she was when we first reached 
the top of the ascent that lies above the 
landing. I had given her my arm, as due 
to hospitality, while the others got up as 
they could; for I observed that Rupert 
assisted no one. As for Lucy, I was still 
- too much vexed with her, and had been so 
all day, to be as civil as I ought. We 
were soon at a point that commanded a 
view of the house, meadows, orchards, 
and fields. 

‘¢This, then, is Clawbonny !’’ exclaimed 
Emily, as soon as I pointed out the place 
to her. ‘‘ Upon my word, a very pretty 
farm, Captain Wallingford. Even pret- 
tier than you represented it to be, Mr. 
Rupert Hardinge.”’ 

‘«*Oh! I always do justice to everything 
of Wallingford’s, you know. We were 
children together, and became so much 
attached in early life that it’s no wonder 
we remain so in these our later days.” 

Rupert was probably nearer the truth 
than he imagined, when he made this 
speech ; my regard for him, by this time, 
being pretty much reduced to habit; and 
certainly it had no increase from any 
fresh supplies of respect. 1 began to 
hope he might not marry Grace, though 
I had formerly looked forward to the 
connection as a settled thing. ‘“‘ Let him 
get Miss Merton, if he can,’ I said to 
myself; ‘‘it will be no great acquisition, 
I fancy, to either side.’’ 

How different was it with his father, 
and, I may add, with Lucy! The old 
gentleman turned to me, with tears in 
his eyes; pointed to the dear old house, 


423 


with a look of delight; and then took my 
arm, without reference to the wants of 
Miss Merton, and led me on, conversing 
earnestly of my affairs, and of his own 
stewardship. Lucy had her father’s arm, 
on the other side; and the good divine 
was too much accustomed to her, to 
mind the presence of his daughter. 
Away we three went, therefore, leading 
the way, while Rupert took charge of 
Emily and Grace. Major Merton fol- 
lowed, leaning on his own man. 

“It is a lovely—it is a lovely spot, 
Miles,’’ said Mr. Hardinge; ‘‘and I do 
most sincerely hope you will never think 
of tearing down that respectable-looking, . 
comfortable, substantial, good old-fash- 
ioned house, to build a new one.’’ 

‘«“Why should I, dear sir? The house, 
with an occasional addition, all built in 
the same style, has served us a century, 
and may very well serve another. Why 
should I wish for more, or a better house?”’ 

‘Why, sure enough? But now you 
are a sort of a merchant, you may grow 
rich, and wish to be the proprietor of a 
seat.’’ 

The time had been, when such thoughts 
often crossed my mind; but I cared less 
for them, then. To own a seat was the 
great object of my ambition in my boy- 
hood; but the thought had weakened by 
time and reflection. 

<¢ What does Lucy think of the matter? 
Do I want, or indeed deserve, a better 
house ?”’ 

‘*T shall not answer either question,”’ 
replied the dear girl, a little saucily, I 
thought. ‘‘I do not understand your 
wants, and do not choose to speak of your 
deservings. But I fancy the question will 
be settled by a certain Mrs. Wallingford, 
one of thesedays. Clever women gener- 
ally determine these things for their 
husbands.”’ 

I endeavored to catch Lucy’s eye, when 
this was said, by leaning a little forward 
myself; but the girl turned her head in 
such a@ manner as prevented my seeing 
her, face. The remark was not lost on 
Mr. Hardinge, however, who took it up 
with warmth, and all the interest of a 
most pure and disinterested affection. 


424 WORKS 

‘‘T suppose you w7ll think of marrying, 
one of these days, Miles,’’ he said ; ‘‘ but, 
on no account, marry a woman who will 
desert Clawbonny, or who would wish 
materially to alter it. No good-hearted 
woman, indeed—no frwe-hearted woman— 
would ever dream of either. Dear me! 
dear me! the happy days and the sorrow- 
ful days—the gracious mercies of Provi- 
dence, and the chastening afflictions—that 
I myself have seen, and felt, and wit- 
nessed, under these same roofs !”’ 

This was followed by a sort of enumera- 
tion of the events of the last forty years, 
including passages in the lives of all who 
had dwelt at the farm, the whole conclud- 
ing with the divine’s solemnly repeating 
—‘*No, no! Miles! do not think, even, of 
marrying a woman who would wish you to 
desert, or materially alter, Clawbonny.”’ 


— wy 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


“Tf thou be’st rated by thy estimation, 
Thou dost deserve enough; and yet enough 
May not extend so far as to the lady.”’ 
—MERCHANT OF VENICE. 


NExT morning, I was early afoot, and 
I found Grace as much alive to the charms 
of home as I was myself. She put ona 
gypsy, and accompanied me into the gar- 
den, where, to my surprise, | found Lucy. 
It looked like old times to be in that spot, 
again, with those two dear girls. Rupert 
alone was wanting to complete the pict- 
ure; but, I had an intimate conviction 
that Rupert, as he had been at least, 
could never come within the setting of the 
family group again. I was rejoiced, how- 
ever, to see Lucy, and more so, just where 
I found her, and I believe told her as 
much with my eyes. The charming girl 
looked happier than she had appeared the 
day before, or for many previous days in- 
deed, and I felt less apprehension than of 
late concerning her having met with any 
agreeable youth of a more genteel profes- 
sion than that of a merchant-captain. 

**T did not expect to find you here, Miss 
Lucy,’’ cried Grace, “eating half-ripe 
currants, too, or my eyes deceive me, at 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


this early hour in the morning. It is not 
twenty minutes since you were in your own 
room, quite unadorned.”’ 

‘“The green fruit of dear Clawbonny is 
better than the ripe fruit of those vile 
New York markets!’’ exclaimed Lucy, 
with a fervor so natural as to forbid any 
suspicion of acting. ‘I should prefer 
a Clawbonny potato, to a New York 
peach ! ’’ 

Grace smiled, and as soon as Lucy’s 
animation had a little subsided she 
blushed. 

‘* How much better would it be, Miles,’’ 
my sister resumed, ‘‘could you be. in- 
duced to think and feel with us, and 
quit the seas, to come and live for the 
rest of your days on the spot where your 
fathers have so long lived before you. 
Would it not, Lucy ? ’’ 

‘Miles will never do that,’? Lucy an- 
swered, with emphasis. ‘‘ Men are not 
like us females, who love everything we 
love at all with all our whole hearts. Men 
prefer wandering about, and being ship- 
wrecked, and left on desert islands, to re- 
maining quietly at home on their own 
farms. No, no, you’ll never persuade 
Miles to do that.”’ 

‘‘Tam not astonished my brother thinks 
desert islands such pleasant abodes, when 
he can find companions like Miss Merton 
on them.”’ 

‘* You will remember, sister of mine, in 
the first place, that Marble Land is very 
far from being a desert island at all; and 
in the next, that I found Miss Merton in 
Hyde Park, London, almost in the canal, 
for that matter.”’ 

‘‘T think it a little odd that Miles never 
told us all about this in his letters at the 
time, Lucy. When young gentlemen 
drag young ladies out of canals, their 
friends at home have a right to know 
something of the matter.’’ 

How much unnecessary misery is in- 
flicted by unmeaning expressions like this. 
Grace spoke lightly, and probably with- 
out a second thought about the matter ; 
but the little she said not only made me 
thoughtful and uneasy, but it drove every- 
thing like a smile from the usually radiant 
countenance of her friend. The conversa- 


or Sagan Ss, as — gti to 


ee ee ee ee 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


tion dragged, and soon after we returned 
together to the house. 

I was much occupied that morning in 
riding about the place with Mr. Har- 
dinge, and in listening to his account of 
the stewardship. With the main results 
I was already acquainted, nay, possessed 
them in the Dawn, but the details had all 
to be gone over with the most minute 
accuracy. A more simple-minded being 
there was not on earth than Mr. Har- 
dinge; and that my affairs turned out so 
well was the result of the prosperous con- 
dition of the country at that day, the 
system my father had adopted in his life- 
time, and the good qualities of the differ- 
ent agents he had chosen—every one of 
whom remained in the situation in which 
he was at the sad moment of the fatal ac- 
cident at the mill. Had matters really 
depended on the knowledge and man- 
agement of the most excellent divine, 
they would soon have been at sixes and 
sevens. 

‘‘T am no believer in miracles, my dear 
Miles,” observed my guardian, with amus- 
ing self-complacency ; ‘‘ but I do think a 
change has been wrought in me, to meet 
the emergencies of a situation in which 
the interests of two orphans have been so 
suddenly intrusted to my guidance and 
care. God be thanked ! everything pros- 
pers; your affairs, as well as those of my 
dear Grace. It is wonderful, boy, how a 
man of my habits has been directed in his 
purchase of wheat, for instance; I, who 
never bought a bushel until the whole 
responsibility of your mills fell upon my 
shoulders. I take no credit to myself for 
it—no credit to myself !”’ 

«T hope the miller has not been back- 
ward, my dear sir, in giving you all the 
assistance in his power.”’ 

‘Morgan? yes, he is always ready ; 
and you know I never forget to send him 
into the market to both buy and sell. 
Really his advice has been so excellent, 
that to me it has the appearance of being 
almost miraculous—prophetic, I should 
say, were it not improper. We should 
avoid all exaggeration in our gratitude, 
boy.” 


‘Very truly, sir. And in what man- 


425 


ner have you managed to get along so 
well with the crops on the place itself? ”’ 

‘‘Havored by the same great adviser, 
Miles. It is really wonderful, the crops 
we have had, and the judgment that has 
been so providentially shown in the man- 
agement of the fields as well as of the 
mills ! ”’ 

“Of course, sir, old Hiram (Neb’s uncle) 
has always been ready to give you his aid ? 
Hiram has a great deal of judgment in his 
way.’ 

‘““No doubt, no doubt. 
have done it all, led by a providential 
counsel. Well, my boy, you ought to be 
satisfied with your earthly lot, for every- 
thing seems to prosper that belongs to 
you. Of course you will marry, one of 
these days, and transmit this place to 
your son, as it has been received from 
your fathers ? ”’ 

‘‘T keep that hope in perspective, sir ; 
or, as we sailors say, for a sheet-anchor.”’ 

‘“Your hope of salvation, boy, is your 
sheet-anchor, I trust. Nevertheless, we 
are not to be too hard on young men, and 
must let them have a little romance in 
their compositions. Yes, yes; I trust 
you will not become so much wedded to 
your ship as not to think of taking a wife 
one of these days. It will be a happy 
hour to me when I can see another Mrs. 
Miles Wallingford at Clawbonny. She 
will be the third; for I can remember 
your grandmother.”’ 

‘Can you recommend to me a proper 
person to fill that honorable station, 
sir ?’’ said I, smiling to myself, and ex- 
ceedingly curious to hear the answer. 

‘«“What do you think of this Miss Mer- 
ton, boy? She is handsome, and that 
pleases young men; clever, and that 
pleases old ones; well educated, and 
that will last when the beauty is gone: 
and, so far as I can judge, amiable; and 
that is as necessary to a wife as fidel- 
ity. Marry no woman, Miles, that is 
not amiable !”’ 

‘* May I ask what you call amiable, sir ? 
and, when that question is answered, | 
may venture to go so far as to inquire 
whom you call amiable ? ”’ 

‘‘Very sensible distinctions, and such 


Hiram and I 


426 


as are entitled to fair answers ; at least 
the first. Ido not call levity, amiability; 
nor mere constitutional gayety. Some of 
the seemingly most light-hearted women 
Ihave ever known, have been anything 
but amiable. There must be an unusual 
absence of selfishness—a person must live 
less for herself, than others—or rather, 
must find her own happiness in the hap- 
piness of those she loves, to make a truly 
amiable woman. Heart and principle are 
at the bottom of what is truly amiable ; 
though temperament and disposition un- 
doubtedly contribute. As for the whom, 
your own sister Grace is a truly amiabie 
young woman. I never knew her do any- 
thing to hurt another’s feelings in my life.’’ 

‘*T suppose you will admit, sir, I cannot 
very well marry Grace ?”’ 

“‘T wish you could, with all my heart— 
yes, with all my heart! Were not you 
and Grace brother and sister, I should 
consider myself well quit of the responsi- 
bility of my guardianship, in seeing you 
man and wife.’’ 

‘‘As that is out of the question, I am 
not without hopes you can mention an- 
other who will do just as well so far as I 
am concerned.’’ 

‘‘ Well, thereis Miss Merton—though I 
do not know her well enough to venture 
absolutely on a recommendation. Now [ 
told Lucy, no later than yesterday, while 
we were on the river, and as you were 
pointing out to Miss Merton the forts in 
the Highlands, that I thought you would 
make one of the handsomest couples in the 
State; and, moreover, I told her—bless 
me, how this corn grows! The plants will 
be in tassel in a few days, and the crop 
must turn out most beneficent—truly, 
truly there is a Providence in all things ; 
for, at first, I was for putting the corn on 
yonder hill-side, and the potatoes here; 
but old Hiram was led by some invisible 
agency to insist on this field for the corn, 
and the hill-side for the potatoes; and, 
now, look and see what crops are in 
promise! Think of a nigger’s blundering 
on such a thing !”’ 

In 1802, even well-educated and well- 
intentioned clergymen had no scruples in 
saying ‘‘ nigger,’’ 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


‘‘ But, sir, you have quite forgotten to 
add what else you told Lucy.” 

“True, true—it is very natural that you 
Should prefer hearing me talk about Miss 
Merton, to hearing me talk about potatoes. 
ll tell that to Lucy, too, you may depend 
on it.’’ 

““T sincerely hope you will do no such 
thing, my dear sir,’’ I cried, in no little 
alarm. 

“Ah! that betrays guilt—conscious- 
ness, I should say; for what guilt can 
there be in a virtuous love? and rely on 
it, both the girls shall know all about it. 
Lucy and I often talk over your matters, 
Miles; for she loves youas well as your 
own sstiehe Ah! my fine fellow, you blush 
at it, like a girl of sixteen! But there is 
nothing to be ashamed of, and there is no 
occasion for blushes.”’ 

“Well, sir, letting my blushes—the 


; 


blusnes of a ship-master!—but setting _ 


aside my blushes, for merecy’s sake what 
more did you tell Lucy ?”’ 

“What more? Why, I told her Hew 
you had been on a desert island, quite 
alone, as one might say, with Miss Merton, 
and how you had been at sea, living in the 
same eabin, as it were, for nine months ; 
and it would be wonderful, indeed, if two 
so handsome young persons should not 
feel an attachment for each other. Coun- 
try mig zis make some difference, to be 
sure 

“And station, sir? What do you 
think would be the influence of the difierr 
ence of station, also ? ”’ 

‘* Station! Bless me, Miles; what dif- 
ference in station is there between you 
and Miss Merton, that it should cause any 
obstacle to your union ?”’ 

‘* You know what it is, sir, as well as I 
do myself. She is the daughter of an 
officer in the British army, and I am the 
master of a ship. You will admit, I pre- 
sume, Mr. Hardinge, that there is snob a 
thing as a difference in station ? ”’ 

‘Beyond all question. It is exceed- 
ingly useful to remember it ; andI greatly 
fear the loose appointments of magistrates 
and other functionaries, that are making 
round the country, will bring all our no- 
tions on such subjects into great confusion. 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


I can unaerstand that one man is as good 
as another in rights, Miles; but I cannot 
understand he is any better, because he 
happens to be uneducated, ignorant, or 
a blackguard.”’ 

Mr. Hardinge was a sensible man in all 
such distinctions, though so simple in con- 
nection with other matters. 

“You can have no difficulty, however, 
in understanding that in New York, for 
instance, I should not be considered the 
equal of Major Merton—I mean socially 
altogether, and not in personal merit or 
the claims -which years give—and, of 
course, not the equal of his daughter.”’ 

«“Why—yes—I know what you mean, 
now. ‘There may be some little inequality 
in that sense, perhaps; but Clawbonny 
and the ship, and the money at use, would 
be very apt to strike a balance.’’ 

‘‘T am afraid not, sir. I should have 
studied law, sir, had I wished to make 
myself a gentleman.”’ 

“There are lots of vulgar fellows get- 
ting into the law, Miles, men who have 
not half your claims to be considered gen- 
tlemen. I hope you do not think I wished 
you and Rupert to study law in order to 
make gentlemen of you? ”’ 

<“No, sir; it was unnecessary to take 
that step as regards Rupert, who was 
fully born in the station. Clergymen have 
a decided position all over the world, 
I believe; and then you are extremely 
well-connected otherwise, Mr. Hardinge. 
Rupert has no occasion for such an assist- 
ance; with me it was a little different.” 

<‘Miles, Miles, this is a strange fancy to 
come over a young man in your situation 
—and who, I am afraid, has been the sub- 
ject of envy only too often, to Rupert! ”’ 

“If the truth were known, Mr. Har- 
dinge, I dare say both Rupert and Lucy, 
in their secret hearts, think they possess 
advantages in the way of social station 
that do not belong to Grace and myself.’’ 

Mr. Hardinge looked hurt, and I was 
soon sorry that 1 had made this speech. 
Nor would I have the reader imagine that 
what I had said proceeded in the least 
from that narrow, selfish feeling which, 
under the blustering pretension of equal- 
ity, presumes to deny the existence of a 


427 


very potent social fact; but simply from 
the sensitiveness of feelings which on this 
subject were somewhat in danger of be- 
coming morbid, through the agency of 
the most powerful passion of the human 
heart, or that which has well been called 
the master-passion. Nevertheless, Mr. 
Hardinge was much too honest a man to 
deny a truth, and much too sincere to 
wish even to prevaricate about it, however 
unpleasant it might be to acknowledge it 
in all its unpleasant bearings. 

“‘T now understand you, Miles, and it 
would be idle to pretend that there is not 
some justice in what you say, though I 
attach very little importance to it myself. 
Rupert is not exactly what I could wish 
him to be in all things, and possibly he 
may be coxcomb enough, at times, to 
fancy he has this sight advantage over 
you, but as for Lucy, I’ll engage she never 
thinks of you but as a second brother, and 
that she loves you exactly as she loves 
Rupert.”’ 

Mr. Hardinge’s simplicity was of proof, 
and it was idle to think of making any 
impression on it. I changed the subject, 
therefore, and this was easily enough done 
by beginning again to talk about the pota- 
toes. Iwas far from being easy, never- 
theless; for I could not avoid seeing that 
the good divine’s restlessness might 
readily widen the little breach which had 
opened between his daughter and myself. 

That day, at dinner, I discovered that 
Grace’s winter in town had led to a sen- 
sible melioration of the domestic economy; 
most especially as related to the table. 
My father and mother had introduced 
some changes, which rendered the Claw- 
bonny household affairs a little different 
from those of most other of the Ulster 
county families near our own class; but 
their innovations, or improvements, or 
whatever they might be called, were far 
from being as decided as those introduced 
by their daughter. Nothing, perhaps, 
sooner denotes the condition of people, 
than the habits connected with the table. 
If eating and drinking be not done ina 
certain way, and a way founded in rea- 
son, too, as indeed are nearly all the cus- 
toms of polished life, whatever may be the 


428 WORKS 
cant of the ultras of reason—but, if eat- 
ing and drinking be not done in a certain 
way, your people of the world perceive it 
sooner than almost anything else. There 
is, also, moré of common sense and innate 
fitness, in the usages of the table, so long 
as they are not dependent on mere ca- 
price, than in almost any other part of 
our deportment; for everybody must 
eat, and most persons choose to eat de- 
cently. I had been a little nervous on 
the subject of the Mertons, in connection 
with the Clawbonny table, I will confess ; 
and great was my delight when I found 
the breakfast going off so well. As 
for the major, himself by no means fa- 
miliar with the higher classes of his own 
country, he had that great stamp of a 
gentleman, simplicity; and he was alto- 
gether above the cockney distinctions of 
eating and drinking; those about cheese 
and malt liquors, and such vulgar nice- 
ties; nor was he a man to care about 
the silver-forkisms; but he understood 
that portion of the finesse of the table 
which depended on reason and taste, and 
was accustomed to observe it. This I 
knew from near a twelvemonth’s inter- 
course, and I had feared we might turn 
out to be a little too rustic. 

Grace had made provisions against all 
this, with a tact and judgment for which 
I could have worshiped her. I knew 
the viands, the vegetables, and the wines 
would all be good of their kind, for in 
these we seldom failed; nor did I dis- 
trust the cookery, the Hnglish-descended 
families of the Middle States, of my class, 
understanding that to perfection; but I 
feared we should fail in those little inci- 
dents of style and arrangement, and in 
the order of the service, that denote a 
well-regulated table. This is just what 
Grace had seen to; and I found that a 
great revolution had been quietly effected 
in this branch of our domestic economy 
during my absence; thanks to Grace’s 
observations while at Mrs. Bradfort’s. 

Hmily seemed pleased at dinner, and 
Lucy could again laugh and smile. After 
the cloth was removed, the major and 
Mr. Hardinge discussed a bottle of Ma- 
deira, and that, too, of a quality of which 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


I had no reason to be ashamed ; while we 
young people withdrew together to a lit- 


tle piazza that was in the shade at that — 


hour, and took seats for a chat. Rupert 
was permitted to smoke, on condition that 
he would not approach within fifteen feet 
of the party. No sooner was this little 
group thus arranged, the three girls in a 
crescent, than I disappeared. 

“Grace, I have not yet spoken to you 
of a necklace of pearls possessed by your 
humble servant,’’ I cried, as my foot 
again touched the piazza. ‘‘I would not 
say a word about it——”’ 

“Yet Lucy and I heard all about it,” 
answered Grace, with provoking calmness, 
“put would not ask to see it, lest you 
Should accuse us of girlish curiosity. We 
waited your high pleasure in the matter.” 

“You and Lucy heard I had such a 
necklace ? ”’ 

‘* Most unquestionably ; I, Grace Wall- 
ingford, and she, Lucy Hardinge. I hope 
it is no infringement on the rights of Mr. 
Miles Clawbonny’’—so the girls often 
called me, when they affected to think I 
was on my high-ropes—‘‘I hope it is no 
infringement on the rights of Mr. Miles 
Clawbonny to say as much ? ”’ 

“And pray how could you and Lucy 
know anything about it? ’”’ 

“That is altogether another question ; 
perhaps we may accord an answer, after 
we have seen the necklace.”’ 

‘‘Miss Merton told us, Miles,’’ said 


Lucy, looking at me with gentleness, for 


she saw I really wished an answer; and 
what could Lucy Hardinge ever refuse 
me, that was right in itself, when she saw 
my feelings were really interested ? 
‘Miss Merton? Then I have been be- 


trayed, and the surprise I anticipated is 


lost.”’ 

I was vexed, and my manner must have 
Shown it in a slight degree. Emily col- 
ored, bit her lip, and said nothing, but 


Grace made her excuses with more spirit” 


than it was usual for her to show. 

“You are rightly punished, Master 
Miles,’’ she cried ; ‘“‘for you had no busi- 
ness to anticipate surprise. They are vul- 
gar things at best, and they are worse 


than that when they come from a dis- — 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


tance of fifteen thousand miles—from a 
brother to a sister. Besides, you have 
surprised us sufficiently once, already, in 
eonnection with Miss Merton.”’ 

«“T!”? T exclaimed. | 

“Me!” added Emily. 

«Yes, I and me; did you tell us one 
word about her in your letters? and have 
you not now both surprised and delighted 


us, by making us acquainted with so 
charming a person? I can pardon such 


a surprise, on account of its consequences ; 


but nothing so vulgar as a surprise about 


pearls.”’ 


Emily blushed now; and in her it was 
possible to tell the difference between a 


blush and the suffusion that arose from a 


different feeling ; but she looked immensely 


superior to anything like explanations. 


«‘ Captain Wallingford ’’—how I disliked 
that Captain—‘‘ Captain Wallingford can 


have but little knowledge of young ladies, 4 
she said, coldly, ‘‘if he supposes such pearls 


as he possesses would not form the subject 


of their conversation.”’ 

I was coxcomb enough to fancy Emily 
vexed that I had neglected to be more 
particular about her being on the island, 


and her connection with the ship. This 


might have been a mistake, however. 

«‘ Let us see the pearls, Miles, and that 
will plead your apology,”’ said Lucy. 

«There, then — your charming eyes, 
young ladies, never looked on pearls like 
those before.”’ 

Female nature could not suppress the 
exclamations of delight that succeeded. 
Even Rupert, who had a besetting weak- 
ness on the subject of all personal orna- 
ments, laid aside his cigar, and came 
within the prescribed distance, the better 
to admire. It was admitted all round, 
New York had nothing to compare with 
them. I then mentioned that they had 
been fished up by myself from the depths 
of the sea. 

«How much that adds to their value!” 
said Lucy, in a low voice, but in her 
warm, sincere manner. 

«That was getting them cheap, was it 
not, Miss Wallingford ? ”’ inquired Emily, 
with an emphasis I disliked. 

“Very, though I agree with Lucy, it 


429 


makes them so much the more valua- 
ble.”’ 

‘‘Tf Miss Merton will forget my charge 
of treason, and condescend to put on the 
necklace, you will all see it to much 
greater advantage than at present. Ifa 
fine necklace embellishes a fine woman, 
the advantage is quite reciprocal. I have 
seen my pearls once already on her neck, 
and know the effect.”’ 

A wish of Grace’s aided my applica- 
tion, and Emily placed the ornaments 
around her throat. The dazzling white- 
ness of her skin gave a luster to the pearls 
that they certainly did not previously pos- 
sess. One scarcely knew which to admire 
the most—the ornaments or their setting. 

«How very, very beautiful they are 
now!” eried Lucy, in generous admira- 
tion. ‘Oh, Miss Merton, pearls should 
ever be your ornaments.”’ 

«Those pearls, you mean, Lucy,” put 
in Rupert, who was always extremely lib- 
eral with other people’s means; “the 
necklace ought never to be removed.”’ 

‘‘ Miss Merton knows their destination,”’ 
Lsaid, gallantly, ‘“‘ and the terms of owner- 
ship.”’ 

Emily slowly undid the clasp, placed 
the string before her eyes, and looked at 
it long and silently. 

‘And what is this destination, Miles ? 
What these terms of ownership?”’ my 
sister asked. 

‘Of course he means them for you, 
dear,’ Lucy remarked in haste. “ For 
whom else can he intend such an orna- 
ment ? ”’ 

‘You are mistaken, Miss Hardinge. 
Grace must excuse me for being a little 
selfish this time, at least. I do not intend 
those pearls for Miss Wallingford, but for 
Mrs. Wallingford, should there ever be 
such a person.’’ 

‘‘Upon my word, such a double tempta- 
tion, my boy, I wonder Miss Merton ever 
had the fortitude to remove them from 
the enviable position they so lately occu- 
pied,’”’ cried Rupert, glancing meaningly 
toward Emily, who returned the look with 
a slight smile. 

‘©Of course, Miss Merton understood 
that my remark was ventured in pleas- 


430 


antry,’’ I said stiffly, “and not in pre- 
sumption. It was decided, however, when 
in the Pacific, that these pearls ought to 
have that destination. It is true, Claw- 
bonny is not the Pacific, and one may be 
pardoned for seeing things a little differ- 
ently here, from what they appeared there. 
I have a few more pearls, however, very 
inferior in quality, I confess, to those of 
the necklace; but, such as they are, I 
Should esteem it a favor, ladies, if you 
would consent to divide them equally 
among you. They would make three very 
pretty rings, and as many breastpins.’’ 

I put into Grace’s hands a little box 
containing all the pearls that had not 
been placed on the string. There were 
many fine ones among them, and some of 
them of very respectable size, though 
most were of the sort called seed. In the 
whole, there were several hundreds. 

“We will not balk his generosity,”’ 
said Grace, smiling; ‘‘so, Miss Merton, 
we will separate the pearls into three 
parcels, and draws lots for them. Here 
are handsome ornaments among them! ” 

** They will have one value with you, at 
least, Grace, and quite likely with Lucy, 
while they might possibly possess another 
with Miss Merton. I fished up every one 
of those pearls with my own hands.” 

“Certainly that will give them value 
with both Lucy and me, dearest Miles, a’s 
would the simple fact that they are your 
gift—but what is to give them their es- 
pecial value with Miss Merton ? ”’ 

“They may serve to remind Miss Mer- 
ton of some of her hairbreadth escapes, 
of the weeks passed on the island, and of 
scenes that, a few years hence, will prob- 
ably possess the colors of a dream, in her 
recollection.’’ 

*“* One pearl I will take, with this par- 
ticular object,’ said Emily, with more 
feeling than I had seen her manifest since 
She had got back into the world, “if Miss 
Wallingford will do me the favor to select 
it.” 

“Let it be enough for a ring, at least,”’ 
Grace returned, in her own sweetest 
manner. ‘‘Half a dozen of the finest 
of these pearls, of which one shall be on 
Miles’s account, and five on mine.’? ° 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


| ‘On those conditions, let it, then, be 
six. Ihave no occasion for pearls to re- 
mind me how much my father and myself 
owe to Captain Wallingford.” 

‘Come, Rupert,’’ added Grace, “you 
have a taste in these things, let us have 
your aid in the selection.”’ 

Rupert was by no means backward in 
complying, for he loved to be meddling in 
such matters. 

‘In the first place,’ he said, ‘I shall 
at once direct that the number be in- 
creased to seven; this fine: one in the 
center, and three on each side, gradually 
diminishing in size. We must look to 
quality, and not to weight, for the six 
puisné judges, as we should call them in 
the courts. The chief*justice will be a 
noble-looking fellow, and the associates 
ought to be of good quality to keep his 
honor’s company.”’ 

“Why do you not call your judges, 
‘my lord,’ as we do in England, Mr. Har- 
dinge ?”’ inquired Emily, in her prettiest 
manner. 

““ Why, sure enough! I wish with all 
my heart we did, and then a man would 
have something worth living for,” 

“Rupert !”’ exclaimed Lucy, coloring, 
“you know it is because our government 
is republican, and that we have no nobles 
among us. Nor do you say exactly what 
you think; you would not be ‘my lord,’ 
if you could,.”’ 

““ As I never shall be a ‘my lord,’ and 
I am afraid never a ‘ your honor.’ There, 
Miss Merton—there are numbers two and 
three—observe how beautifully they are 
graduated as to size.’’ 

‘‘ Well, ‘your honor,’ ” added Grace, 
who began to be a little uneasy at the 
manner Rupert and Emily exhibited 
toward each other—“ well, ‘your honor,’ 
what is to come next ?”’ 

‘“‘ Numbers four and five, of course ; and 
here they are, Miss Merton, as accurately 
diminished as if done by hand. <A beauti- 
ful ring it will make. I envy those who 
will be recalled to mind by so charming 
an object.’’. 

‘* You will now be one of those yourself, 
Mr. Hardinge,’’ observed Emily, with 
great tact ; “for you are fully entitled to 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


it by the trouble you are giving your- 
self, and the taste and judgment you 
possess.”’ 

Lucy looked petrified. She had so long 
accustomed herself to think of Grace as 
her future sister, that the open admira- 
tion expressed in Rupert’s countenance, 
which was too manifest to escape any of 
us, first threw a glimmering of light on 
suspicions of the most painful nature. I 
had long seen that Lucy understood her 
prother’s character better than any of us 
—much better, indeed, than his simple- 
minded father; and, as for myself, I was 
prepared to expect anything but consist- 
ency and principle in his conduct. Dearly 
as I prized Lucy, and by this time the 
slight competition that Emily Merton had 
presented to my fancy had entirely given 
way to the dear creature’s heart and 
nature—but, dearly as I prized Lucy, I 
would greatly have preferred that my 
sister should not marry her brother; and, 
so far from feeling resentment on account 
of his want of fidelity, I was rather dis- 
posed to rejoice at it. I could appreciate 
his want of merit, and his unfitness to be 
the husband of such a woman as Grace, 
even at my early age; but, alas! I could 
not appreciate the effects of his incon- 
stancy on a heart like that of my sister. 
Could I have felt as easy on the subject of 
Mr. Andrew Drewett, and of my own pre- 
cise position in society, 1 should have 
cared very little just then about Rupert 
and his caprices. 

The pearls for the ring were soon se- 
lected by Rupert, and approved of by 
Grace, after which I assumed the office 
of dividing the remainder myself. I drew 
a chair, took the box from Rupert, and 
set about the task. 

«*T shall make a faithful umpire, girls,”’ 
I observed, as pearl after pearl was laid, 
first on one spot, then on another—“ for I 
feel no preference between you—Grace is 
as Lucy; Lucy is as Grace, with me.” 

“That may be fortunate, Miss Har- 
dinge, since it indicates no preference of a 
particular sort, that might require repress- 
ing,” said Emily, smiling significantly at 
Lucy. ‘When gentlemen treat young 
ladies as sisters, it is a subject of rejoicing. 


431 


These sailors need severe lessons, to keep 
them within the rules of the land.” 

Why this was said, I did not under- 
stand. But Rupert laughed at it, as if it 
were a capital thing. To mend the mat- 
ter, headded, a little boisterously for him— 

«You see, Miles, you had better have 


taken to the law—the ladies cannot ap- 
preciate the merits of you tars.” 


‘© So it would seem,’’ I returned, a little 
dryly, ‘“‘ after all Miss Merton has experi- 
enced and seen of the trade.” 

Emily made no reply, but she regarded 
her pearls with a steadiness that showed 
she was thinking more of their etfect than 
that of either her own speech or mine. I 
continued to divide the pearls, and soon 
had the work complete. 

‘What am I to do, now?’ I asked. 
«Will you draw lots, girls, or will you 
trust to my impartiality ? ’’ I 

<¢ We will certainly confide in the last,”’ 
answered Grace. ‘‘ The division is so very 
equitable that I do not well see how you 
can defraud either.’’ 

«That being the case, this parcel is for 
you, Lucy; and Grace, that is yours. ”’ 

Grace rose, put her arms affectionately 
around my neck, and gave me one of the 
hundred kisses that I had received, first 
and last, for presents of one sort and an- 
other. The deep attachment that beamed 
in hcr saint-like eyes would of itself have 
repaid me for fifty such gifts. At the 
moment, I was almost on the point of 
throwing her the necklace in the bargain ; 
but some faint fancies about Mrs. Miles 
Wallingford prevented me from so doing. 
As for Lucy, not a little to my surprise, 
she received the pearls, muttered a few 
unintelligible words, but did not even rise 
from her chair. Emily seemed to tire of 
this, so she caught up her gypsy, said the 
evening was getting to be delightful, and 
proposed a walk. Rupert and Grace 
cheerfully acquiesced, and the three soon 
left the place, Lucy preparing to follow, 
as soon asa maid could bring her hat, and 
I excusing myself on the score of business 
in my own room. 

‘¢ Miles,” said Lucy, as 1 was about to 
enter the house, she herself standing on 
the edge of the piazza on the point of fol- 


432 WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


lowing the party, but holding toward me 
the little paper box in which I had placed 
her portion of the pearls. 

‘‘Do you wish me to put them away for 
you, Lucy ?”’ 

““No, Miles—not for me—but for your- 
self—for Grace—for Mrs. Miles Walling- 
ford, if you prefer that.’’ 

This was said without the slightest ap- 
pearance of any other feeling than a gentle 
request. I was surprised, and scarce knew 
what to make of it; at first, I refused to 
take the box. 

‘‘T hope I have done nothing to merit 
this, Lucy ?’’ I said, half affronted, half 
grieved. 

‘‘ Remember, Miles,’’ the dear girl an- 
swered, ‘‘we are no longer children, but 
have reached an age when it is incum- 
bent on us to respect appearances a little. 
These pearls must be worth a good deal of 
money, and | feel certain my father, when 
he came to think of it, would scarce ap- 
prove of my receiving them.”’ 

** And this from you, dear Lucy ? ”’ 

‘This from me, dear Miles,’”’ returned 
the precious girl, tears glistening in her 
eyes, though she endeavored to smile. 
“‘Now take the box, and we will be just 
as good friends as ever.’’ 

“Will you answer me one question as 
frankly and as honestly as you used to 
answer all my questions ? ”’ 

Lucy turned pale, and she stood reflect- 
ing an instant before she spoke. 

“IT can answer no question before it is 
asked,’’ was at length her answer. 

‘“‘ Have you thought so little of my pres- 
ent as to have thrown away the locket I 
gave you before I sailed for the north- 
west coast ? ”’ 

“No, Miles; I have kept the locket, 
and shall keep it as long as I live. It was 
a memorial of our childish regard for each 
other, and in that sense is very dear to 
me. You will let me keep the locket, I 
am sure ! ’’ 

“If it were not you, Lucy Hardinge, 
whom I know to be truth itself, I might 
be disposed to doubt you ; so many strange 
things exist, and so much caprice, espe- 
cially in attachments, is manifested here, 
wshore !”’ 


’ 


‘You need doubt nothing I tell you, | 
Miles; on no account would I deceive 
you.”’ 

“That I believe—nay, I see it is your 
present object to undeceive me. Ido not 
doubt anything you tell me, Lucy. I wish 
I could see that locket, however; show it — 
to me, if you have it on your person.”’ 

Lucy made an eager movement, as if 
about to produce the locket; then she 
arrested the impetuous indication, while — 
her cheeks fairly burned with the blushes 
that suffused them. | 

“* T see how it is, Lucy; the thing is not 
to be found. It is mislaid, the Lord knows 
where, and you do not like to avow it.’’ 

The locket at that moment lay as near 
the blessed creature’s heart as it could be 
placed, and her confusion proceeded from 
the shame of letting that fact be known. 
This I could not see, and consequently 
did not know. A very small and further 
indication of feeling on my part might 
have betrayed the circumstance, but pride 
prevented it, and I took the still extended 
box, I dare say in a somewhat dramatic 
manner. Lucy looked at me earnestly ; 
I saw it was with difficulty that she kept 
from bursting into tears. 

‘‘ You are not hurt, Miles? ”’ she said. 

‘‘T should not be frank if I denied it. 
Kven Emily Merton, you saw, consented 
to accept enough pearls for a ring.”’ 

‘<I did perceive it ; and yet you remem- 
ber she felt the impropriety of receiving 
such large gifts from gentlemen. Miss 
Merton has gone through so much, so — 
much in your company, Miles, that no 
wonder she is willing to retain some little 
memorial of it all, until—— ”’ | 

She hesitated, but Lucy chose not to 
finish the sentence. She had been pale, 
but her cheeks were now like the rose 
again. 

‘When Rupert and I first went to sea, 
Lucy, you gave me your little treasure in 
gold; every farthing you had on earth, 
I fancy.’’ ; 

‘‘Tam glad I did, Miles; for we were 
very young then, and you had been so kind : 
to me, I rejoice I had a little gratitude. § 
But we are now in situations,’’ she added, 
smiling so sweetly as to-render it difficult : 


ew: hi Rieti 


ries 


’ 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


_ for me to refrain from catching her in my 
arms and folding her to my heart, ‘‘ that 
place both of us above the necessity of 
receiving aid of this sort.’’ 

‘1 am glad to hear this, though J shall 
never part with the dear recollection of 
the half-joes.’’ 

*‘Or I with that of the locket. We will 
retain these then as keepsakes. My dear 
Mrs. Bradfort, too, is very particular 
about Rupert or myself receiving favors 
of this sort from any but herself. She has 
adopted us in a manner, and I owe to her 
liberality the means of making the figure 
Ido. Apart from that, Miles, we are all 
as poor as we have ever been.”’ 

I wished Rupert had half his sister’s 
self-respect and pride of character. But 
he had not; for, in spite of his kins- 
woman’s prohibitions, he had not scrupled 


to spend nearly three years of the wages | 
that accrued to me as third mate of the 


Crisis. For the money I cared not a 
stiver ; it was a very different thing as to 
the feeling. 

As for Lucy, she hastened away, as 
soon as she had induced me to accept the 
box; and I had no choice but to place all 
the pearls together, and put them in 
Grace’s room, as my sister had desired 
me to do with her own property before 
proceeding on her walk. 

I determined [ would converse confiden- 
tially with Grace, that very evening, 
about the state of affairs in general, and, 
if possible, learn the worst concerning 
Mr. Andrew Drewett’s pretensions. Shall 
I frankly own the truth? I was sorry 
that Mrs. Bradfort had made Lucy so 
independent ; as it seemed to increase the 
chasm that I fancied was opening between 
us. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


“Your name abruptly mentioned, casual words 
Of comment on your deeds, praise from your uncle, 
News from the armies, talk of your return, 
A word let fall touching your youthful passion 
Suffused her cheek, called to her drooping eye 
A momentary luster.’’—HILLHOUSE. 


I HAD no difficulty in putting my proj- 
ect of a private interview with Grace in 


433 


execution in my own house. There was 
one room at Clawbonny that, from time 
immemorial, had been appropriated exclu- 
sively to the use of the heads of the estab- 
lishment. It was called the ‘‘ family 
room,’’ aS one would say ‘“‘ family pict- 
ures’”’ or ‘‘family plate.’? In my fath- 
er’s time, I could recollect that I never 
dreamed of entering it, unless asked or 
ordered ; and even then, I always did so 
with some such feelings as I entered a 
church. What gave it a particular and 
additional sanctity in our eyes, also, was 
the fact that the Wallingford dead were 
always placed in their coffins in this room, 
and thence they were borne to their 
graves. It was a very small triangular 
room, with the fireplace in one corner, 
and possessing but a single window, that 
opened on a thicket of rose-bushes, 
syringas, and lilacs. There was also a 
light external fence around this shrub- 
bery, as if purposely to keep listeners at 
a distance. The apartment had been 
furnished when the house was built, being 
in the oldest part of the structures, and 
still retained its ancient inmates. The 
chairs, tables, and most of the other 
articles, had actually been brought from 
England, by Miles the First, as we used 
to call the emigrant; though he was 
thus only in reference to the Clawbonny 
dynasty, having been something like 
Miles the Twentieth, in the old country. 
My mother had introduced a small settee, 
or some such seat as the French would 
call causeuse ; a most appropriate article, 
in such a place. : 

In preparation for the interview I had 
slipped into Grace’s hand a piece of paper 
on which was written, ‘‘ Meet me in the 
family room, precisely at six!’’ This was 
sufficient ; at the hour named, I proceeded 
to the room myself. The house of Claw- 
bonny, in one sense, was large for an 
American residence ; that is to say, it cov- 
ered a great deal of ground, every one of 
the three owners who preceded me hav- 
ing built ; the last two leaving entire the 
labors of the first. My turn had not yet 
come, of course; but the reader knows 
already that I, most irreverently, had 
once contemplated abandoning the place 


434 WORKS 


for a ‘‘seat’’ nearer the Hudson. In such 
a suite of constructions, sundry passages 
became necessary, and we had several 
more than was usual at Clawbonny, be- 
sides having as many pairs of stairs. In 
consequence of this ample provision of 
stairs, the chambers of the family were 
totally separated from those of all the rest 
of the house. 

I began to reflect seriously on wat I 
had to say, and how it was to be said, as 
I walked through the long passage which 
led to the ‘‘family room,’’ or the “tri. 
angile,’? as my own father had nicknamed 
the spot. Grace and I had never yet held 
what might be termed a family consulta- 
tion; I was too young to think of such a 
thing, when last at home, and no former 
occasion had offered since my return. I 
was still quite young, and had more diffi- 
dence than might have been expected in a 
sailor. To me, it was far more embarrass- 
ing to open verbal communications of a 
delicate nature, than it would have been 
to work a ship in action. 

But for this mauvaise honte, I do think 
I should have been explicit with Lucy, and 
not have parted from her on the piazza, as 
I did, leaving everything in just as much 
doubt as it had been before a word passed 
between us. Then I entertained a pro- 
found respect for Grace ; something more 
than the tenderness of a brother for a sis- 
ter; for, mingled with my strong affec- 
tion for her, was a deference, a species 
of awe of her angel-like character and 
purity, that made me far more disposed 
to receive advice from her than to bestow 
it. In the frame of mind which was 
natural to all these blended feelings, I 
laid my hand on the old-fashioned brass 
latch, by which the door of the ‘ tri- 
angle’? was closed. On entering the 
room, I found my sister seated on the 
**causeuse,’’ the window open to admit 
air, the room looking snug but cheerful, 
and its occupant’s sweet countenance ex- 
pressive of care, not altogether free from 
curiosity. The last time I had been in 
that room, it was to look on the pallid 
features of my mother’s corpse, previous- 
ly to closing the coffin. All the recollec- 
tions of that scene rushed upon our 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


minds at the same instant; and taking 
a place by the side of Grace, I put an 
arm around her waist, drew her to me, 
and, receiving her head on my bosom, she 
wept like a child. My tears could not be 
altogether restrained, and several min- 
utes passed in profound silence. No ex- 
planations were needed; I knew what 
my sister thought and felt, and she was 
equally at home as respects my sensa- 
tions. At length we regained our self- 
command, and Grace lifted her head. 

“* You have not been in this room since, 
brother ? ”’ she observed, half-inquiringly. 

‘‘T have not, sister. It is now many 
years—many for those who are as young 
as ourselves.”’ 

‘Miles, you will think better about 
that ‘seat,’ and never abandon Claw- 
bonny—never destroy this blessed room! ”’ 

‘‘T begin to think and feel differently 
on the subject, from what 1 once did. If 
this house were good enough for our fore- 
fathers, why is it not good enough for 
me? It is respectable and comfortable, 
and what more do I want ? ”’ 

‘“‘And so warm in winter, and so cool in 
summer; with good thick stone walls; 
while everything they build now is a 
Shingle palace! Besides, you can add 
your portion, and each addition has al- 
ready been a good deal modernized. It 
is so pleasant to have a house that par- 
takes of the usages of different periods ! ’” 

‘| hardly think I shall ever abandon 
Clawbonny, my dear; for I find it grow- 
ing more and more pina as other ties 
and expectations fail me.’ 

Grace drew herself entirely from my 
arms, and looked intently, and, as I fan- 
cied, anxiously at me, from the other cor- 
ner of the settee. Then she affectionately 
took one of my hands in both her Owns 
and pressed it gently. 

“‘ You are young to speak of such things, 
my dear brother,’’ she said with a tone 
and air of sadness I had never yet re- 
marked in her voice and manner ; 


women are born to know sorrow ! ”’ 


I could not speak if I would, for I fan- — 
cied Grace was about to make some com- — 


munications concerning Rupert. Notwith- 


‘much 
too young for a man; though I fear we 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


standing the strong affection that existed 
between my sister and myself, not a sylla- 
ble had ever been uttered by either, that 
bore directly on our respective relations 
with Rupert and Lucy Hardinge. I had 
long been certain that Rupert, who was 
never backward in professions, had years 
before spoken explicitly to Grace, and I 
made no doubt they were engaged, though 
probably subject to some such conditions 
as the approval of his father and myself ; 
approvals that neither had any reason for 
Supposing could be withheld. Still, Grace 
had never intimated anything of the sort, 
and my conclusions were drawn from con- 
jectures founded as I imagined on suffi- 
cient observation. On the other hand, I 
had never spoken to Grace of my love for 
Lucy. Until within the last month, in- 
deed, when jealousy and distrust came to 
quicken the sentiment, I was unconscious, 
myself, with how much passion I did act- 
ually love the dear girl; for, previously 
to that, my affection had seemed so much 
a matter of course, was united with so 
much that was fraternal, in appearance 
at least, that | had never been induced to 
enter into an inquiry as to the nature of 
this regard. We were both, therefore, 
touching on hallowed spots in our hearts, 
and each felt averse to laying bare the 
weakness. 

“Oh! you, know how it is with life, 
~Grace,”’ I answered, with affected care- 
lessness, after a moment’s silence ; ‘“ now 
all sunshine, and now all clouds—I shall 
probably never marry, my dear sister, 
and you, or your children, will inherit 
Clawbonny; then you can do as you 
please with the house. As a memorial of 
myself, however, I will leave orders for 
stone to be got out this fall, and next 
year will put up the south wing, of which 
we have so much talked, and add three 
or four rooms in which one will not be 
ashamed to see his friends.’’ 

“J hope you are ashamed of nothing 
that is at Clawbonny, now, Miles—as for 
your marrying, my dear brother, that 
remains to be seen; young men do not 
often know their own minds on such a 
subject, at your age.”’ 

This was said, not altogether without 


435 


pleasantry, though there was a shade of 
sadness in the countenance of the beloved 
speaker, that from the bottom of my heart 
I wished were not there. I believe Grace 
understood my concern, and that she 
shrunk with virgin sensitiveness from 
touching further on the subject, for she 
soon added—‘“‘ Knough of this desponding 
talk. Why have you particularly desired 
to see me here, Miles ?”’ 

“Why? Oh! you know I am to sail 
next week, and we have never been here; 
and now we are both of an age to com- 
municate our thoughts to each other, I 
supposed—that is—there must be a begin- 
ning of all things, and it is as well to com- 
mence now as any other time. You do 
not seem more than half a sister, in the 
company of strangers like the Mertons, 
and Hardinges!”’ 

“Strangers, Miles! How long have you 
regarded the last as strangers ?”’ 

“Certainly not strangers in the way of 
acquaintance, but strangers to our blood. 
There is not the least connection between 
us and them.”’ 

‘*“No, but much love; and love that has 
lasted from childhood. I cannot remem- 
ber the time when I have not loved Lucy 
Hardinge.”’ 

**Quite true—nor I. Lucy is an excel- 
lent girl, and one is almost certain of al- 
ways retaining a strong regard for her. 
How singularly the prospects of the Har- 
dinges are changed by this sudden liking 
of Mrs. Bradfort !”’ 

“It is not sudden, Miles. You have 
been absent years, and forget how much 
time there has been to become intimate 
and attached. Mr. Hardinge and Mrs. 
Bradfort are sisters’ children; and the 
fortune of the last, which, I am told, ex- 
ceeds six thousand a year, in improving 
real estate in town, besides the excellent 
and valuable house in which she lives, 
came from their common grandfather, 
who cut off Mrs. Hardinge with a small 
legacy, because she married a clergyman. 
Mr. Hardinge is Mrs. Bradfort’s heir-at- 
law, and it is by no means unnatural that 
she should think of leaving the property 
to those who, in one sense, have as good 
a right to it as she has herself.” 


436 WORKS 


«* And is it supposed she will leave Ru- 
pert her heir? ” 

“‘T believe it is—at least—I think—I 
am afraid—Rupert himself imagines it; 
though doubtless Lucy will come in for a 
fair share. The affection of Mrs. Brad- 
fort for Lucy is very strong—so strong, 
indeed, that she offered, last winter, open- 
ly to adopt her, and to keep her with her 
constantly. You know how true and 
warm-hearted a girl Lucy is, and how 
easy it is to love her.”’ 

‘<This is all new to me—why was not 
the offer accepted ? ”’ 

‘Neither Mr. Hardinge nor Lucy would 
listen to it. Iwas present at the inter- 
view in which it was discussed, and our 
excellent guardian thanked his cousin for 
her kind intentions; but in his simple way, 
he declared, as Iong as life was spared 
him, he felt it a duty to keep his girl; or, 
at least, until he committed her to the 
custody of a husband, or death should 
part them.’’ 

*¢ And Lucy ?”’ 

‘*She is much attached to Mrs. Brad- 
fort, who is a good woman in the main, 
though she has her weaknesses about the 
world, and society, and such _ things. 
Lucy wept in her cousin’s arms, but de- 
clared she never could leave her father. 
I suppose you do not expect,’’ added 
Grace, smiling, ‘‘that she had anything 
to say about a husband.’’ 

‘And how did Mrs. Bradfort receive 
this joint declaration of resistance to her 
pleasure, backed, as the last was, by 
dollars ? ”’ 

‘‘ Perfectly well. The affair terminated 
by Mr. Hardinge’s consenting to Lucy’s 
passing each winter in town, until she 
marry. Rupert, you know, lives there as 
a student at law, at present, and will be- 
come established there, when admitted to 
the bar.”’ 

‘«¢ And I suppose the knowledge that 
Lucy is likely to inherit some of the old 
Bleecker estate has not in the least dimin- 
ished her chance of finding a husband to 
remove her from the paternal custody of 
‘her father ? ”’ 

‘“No husband could ever make Lucy 
anything but Mr. Hardinge’s daughter ; 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


but you are right, Miles, in supposing that 
she has been sought. I am not in her 
secrets, for Lucy is a girl of too much 
principle to make a parade of her con- 
quests, even under the pretense of com- 
municating them to her dearest friend— 
and in that light, beyond all question, 
does she regard me; but I feel as morally 
certain as one can be, without actually 
knowing the facts, that Lucy refused one 
gentleman winter before last, and three 
last winter.’’ 

«Was Mr. Andrew Drewett of the 
number ?’’ I asked, with a precipitation 
of which I was immediately ashamed. 

Grace started a little at the vivacity of 
my manner, and then she smiled, oe 
I still thought sadly. 

‘‘Of course not,’’ she answered, after a 
moment’s thought, “ or he would not still 
be in attendance. Lucy is too frank to 
leave an admirer in doubt an instant after 
his declaration is made and her own mind 
made up; and not one of all those who, I 
am persuaded, have offered, has ever ven- 


tured to continue more than a distant 


acquaintance. As Mr. Drewett never has 
been more assiduous than down to the 
last moment of our remaining in town, it 
is impossible he should have been rejected. 
I suppose you know Mr. Hardinge has in- 
vited him here ? ”’ 

“Here? Andrew Drewett? And why 
is he coming here ? ”’ 

‘‘T heard him ask Mr. Hardinge’s per- 
mission to visit us here; and you know 
how it is with our dear, good guardian— 
the milk of human kindness himself, and 
so perfectly guileless that he never sees 
more than is said in such matters, it was 
impossible he could refuse. Besides, he 
likes Drewett, who, apart from some 
fashionable follies, is both clever and re- 
spectable. Mr. Drewett has a sister mar- 
ried into one of the best families on the 
other side of the river, and is in the habit — 
of coming into the neighborhood ever} 
summer; doubtless he will cross from 
sister’s house to Clawbonny.”’ EE 

I felt indignant for just one minute, and 
then reason resumed its sway. — Mr. 
Hardinge, in the first place, had the writ- 
ten authority, or request, of my mother, 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


that he would invite whom he pleased, 
during my minority, to the house; and, 
on that score, I felt no disapprobation. 
But it seemed so much like braving my 
own passion, to ask an open admirer of 
Lucy’s to my own house, that I was very 
near saying something silly. Luckily | 
did not, and Grace never knew what I suf- 
fered at this discovery. Lucy had refused 
several offers—that was something ; and 
I was dying to know what sort of offers 
they were. I thought I might at least 
venture to ask that question. 

«« Did you know the four gentlemen that 
you suppose Lucy to have refused ?’’ said 
I, with as indifferent an air as I could 
assume, affecting to destroy a cobweb 
with my rattan, and even carrying my 
acting so far as to make an attempt at a 
low whistle. 

<©Certainly ; how else should I know 
anything about it? Lucy has never said 
a word to me on the subject; and, though 
Mrs. Bradfort and I have had our pleas- 
antries on the subject, neither of us is in 
Lucy’s secrets.” 

«« Ay, your pleasantries on the subject ! 
That I daresay. There is no better fun 
to a woman than to see a man make 
a fool of himself in this way; little 
does she care how much a poor fellow 
suffers |” 

Grace turned pale, and I could see that 
her sweet countenance became thoughtful 
and repentant. 

‘Perhaps there is truth in your remark, 
and justice in yourreproach, Miles. None 
of us treat this subject with as much se- 
riousness as it deserves, though I cannot 
suppose any woman can reject a man 
whom she believes to be seriously attached 
to her, without feeling for him. Still, at- 
tachments of this nature affect your sex 
less than ours, and I believe few men die 
of love. Lucy, moreover, never has, and 
I believe never would encourage any man 
whom she did not like; this principle must 
have prevented any of that intimate con- 
nection, without which the heart never 
can get much interested. The passion 
that is produced without any exchange 
of sentiment or feeling, Miles, cannot be 
much more than imagination or caprice.”’ 


437 


‘‘T suppose those four chaps are all 
famously cured by this time, then!”’ said 
I, pretending again to whistle. 

‘¢T cannot answer for that; it isso easy 
to love Lucy, and to love her warmly. I 
only know they visit her no longer, and 
when they meet her in society behave just 
as I think a rejected admirer would be- 
have when he has not lost his respect for 
his late flame. Mrs. Bradfort’s fortune 
and position may have had their influence 
on two, but the others, I think, were quite 
sincere.”’ 

‘‘Mrs. Bradfort is quite in a high set, 
Grace, altogether above what we have 
been accustomed to.”’ 

My sister colored a little, and I could 
see she was not at her ease. Still, Grace 
had too much self-respect, and too much 
character, ever to feel an oppressive in- 
feriority where it did not exist in essen- 
tials; and she had never been made to 
suffer, as the more frivolous and vain 
often suffer, by communication with aclass 
superior to their own—especially when 
that class, as always happens, contains 
those who, having nothing else to be proud 
of, take care to make others feel their in- 
feriority.”’ 

‘¢This is true, Miles,’’ she answered ; 
‘or I might better say both are true. 
Certainly I never have seen as many well- 
bred persons as I meet in her circle ; indeed 
we have little around us at Clawbonny to 
teach us any distinctions in such tastes, 
Mr. Hardinge, simple as he is, is so truly 
a gentleman, that he has not left us al- 
together in the dark as to what was ex- 
pected of us; and I fancy the higher peo- 
ple truly are in the world, the less they 
lay stress on anything but what is sub- 
stantial in these matters.”’ 

«¢ And Lucy’s admirers—and Lucy her- 
self if 

‘‘ How, Lucy herself ?”’ 

«Was she well received—courted—ad- 
mired? Met as an equal, and treated as 
an equal? And you, too?”’ 

‘‘Had you lived more in the world, 
Miles, you would not have asked the ques- 
tion. But Lucy has been always received 
as Mrs. Bradfort’s daughter would have 
been received ; and as for myself, | have 


438 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


never supposed it was known exactly who | make them rich, but I do not think theirs 


Lh oa hes 

“Captain Miles Wallingford’s daugh- 
ter, and Captain Miles Wallingford’s sis- 
ter,’’? said I, with a little bitterness on 
each emphasis. 

‘Precisely ; and a girl proud of her 
connections with both,” rejoined Grace, 
with strong affection. 

‘*T wish I knew one thing, Grace; and 
I think I ought to know it, too.” 

*“If you can make the last appear, 
Miles, you may rest assured you shall 
know it, if it depend on me.”’ 

‘‘Did any of these gentry—these soft- 
handed fellows—ever think of offering to 
you 2”? 

Grace laughed, and she colored so 
deeply—oh ! how heavenly was her beau- 
ty, with that roseate tint on her cheek ! 
—but she colored so deeply that I felt 
satisfied that she, too, had refused her 
suitors. The thought appeased some of 
my bitter feelings, and I had a thought of 
semi-savage pleasure in believing that a 
daughter of Clawbonny was not to be had 
for the asking, by one of that set. The 
only answers I got were these disclosures 
by blushes. 

“What are the fortune and position of 
this Mr. Drewett, since you are resolved 
to tell me nothing of your own affairs ? ”’ 

** Both are good, and such as no young 
lady can object to; he is even said to be 
rich.”’ 

“Thank God! He then is not seeking 
Lucy in the hope of getting some of Mrs. 
Bradfort’s money ?’’ 

‘Not in the least. It is so easy to love 
Lucy for Lucy’s sake, that even a fortune- 
hunter would be in danger of being caught 
in his own trap. But Mr. Drewett is 
above the necessity of practicing so vile 
a scheme for making money.”’ 

Here, that the present generation may 
not be misled, and imagine fortune-hunt- 
ing has come in altogether within the 
last twenty years, I will add that it was 
not exactly a trade in this country—a 
regular occupation—in 1802, as it has be- 
come in 1844, There were such things 
then, certainly, as men or women who 
were ready to marry anybody who would 


was a Calling to which either sex served 
regular apprenticeships as is practiced to- 
day. Still, the business was carried on, 
to speak in the vernacular, and some- 
times with marked success. 

“You have not told me, Grace,” I re- 
sumed, “whether you think Lucy is 
pleased or not with the attentiens of this 
gentleman.’’ 

My sister looked at me intently, for a 
moment, as if to ascertain how far I could, 
or could not, ask such a question with in- 
difference. It will be remembered that no 
verbal explanations had ever taken place 
between us on the subject of our feelings 
toward the companions of our childhood, 
and that all that was known to either was 
obtained purely by inference. Between 
myself and Lucy nothing had ever passed, 
indeed, which might not have been hon- 
estly referred to our long and early asso- 
ciation, so far as the rules of intercourse 
were concerned, though I sometimes fan- 
cied I could recall a hundred occasions on 
which Lucy had formerly manifested deep 


attachment for myself; nor did I doubt — 


her being able to show similar proofs by 
reversing the picture. This, however, 
was, or I had thought it to be, merely 
the language of the heart; the tongue 
having never spoken. Of course, Grace 
had nothing but conjecture on this sub- 
ject, and alas! she had begun to see how 
possible it was for those who lived near 
each other to change their views on such 
subjects; no wonder, then, if she fancied 
it still easier for’ those who had been 
separated for years. 

*“T have not told you, Miles,’ Grace 
answered after a brief delay, “ because it 
would not be proper to communicate the 
secrets of my friend to a young man, even 
to you, were it in my power, as it is not, 
since Lucy never has made to me the 
slightest confidential communications of 
any sort or nature, touching love.’’ 

“Never !’’ I exclaimed—reading my 
fancied doom in the startling fact ; for I 
conceived it impossible, had she ever real- 
ly loved me, that the matter should not 
have come up in conversation between 
two so closely united. ‘‘Never! What, 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


no girlish—no childish preference—have 
you never had any mutual preferences to 
reveal ? ”’ 

*“Never,’’ answered Grace firmly, 
though her very temples seemed illumi- 
nated. ‘‘Never. We have been satisfied 
with each other’s affection, and have had 
no occasion to enter into any unfeminine 
and improper secrets, if any such existed.’’ 

A long, and I doubt not a mutually 
painful pause succeeded. 

**Grace,’’ said I, at length, ‘‘I am not 
envious of this probable accession of fort- 
une to the Hardinges, but I think we 
should all have been much more united— 
much happier—without it.’’ 

My sister’s color left her face, she 
trembled all over, and she became pale as 
death. 

“You may be right in some respects, 
Miles,’’ she answered, after a time. ‘‘ And 
yet it is hardly generous to think so. 
Why should we wish to see our oldest 
friends—those who are so very dear to us, 
our excellent guardian’s children, less 
well off than we are ourselves? No doubt, 
no doubt, it may seem better to us, that 
Clawbonny should be the castle and we its 
possessors; but others have their rights 
and interests as well as ourselves. Give 
the Hardinges money, and they will enjoy 
every advantage known in this country— 
more than money can possibly give us— 
why, then, ought we to be so selfish as to 
wish them deprived of this advantage ? 
Place Lucy where you will she will always 
be Lucy; and as for Rupert, so brilliant a 
young man needs only an opportunity to 
rise to anything the country possesses ! ”’ 

Grace was so earnest, spoke with so 
much feeling, appeared so disinterested, so 
holy I had almost said, that I could not find 
in my heart the courage to try her any fur- 
ther. That she began to distrust Rupert, 
I plainly saw, though it was merely with 
the glimmerings of doubt. A nature as 
pure as hers, and a heart so true, ad- 
mitted with great reluctance the proofs 
of the unworthiness of one so long loved. 
It was evident, moreover, that she shrunk 
from revealing her own great secret, 
while she had only conjectures to offer 
in regard to Lucy; and even these she 


439 


withheld, as due to her sex, and the obli- 
gation of friendship. I forgot that I had 
not been ingenuous myself, and that I 
made no communication to justify any 
confidence on the part. of my sister. That 
which would have been treachery in her to 
say, under this state of the case, might 
have been uttered with greater frankness 
on my own part. After a pause, to allow 
my sister to recover from her agitation, I 
turned the discourse to our own more im- 
mediate family interests, and soon got off 
the painful subject altogether. 

‘*T shall be of age, Grace,”’ I said, in 
the course of my explanations, ‘‘ before 
you see me again. We sailors are always 
exposed to more chances and hazards than 
people ashore; and I now tell you, should 
anything happen to me, my will may be 
found in my secretary ; signed and sealed, 
the day I attain my majority. I have 
given orders to have it drawn up by a 
lawyer of eminence, and shall take it to 
sea with me, for that very purpose.”’ 

“* From which I am to infer that 1 must 
not covet Clawbonny,’’ answered Grace, 
with a smile that denoted how little she 
cared for the fact. ‘‘ You give it to our 
cousin, Jack Wallingford, as a male heir, 
worthy of enjoying the honor.’’ 

‘“No, dearest, I give it to you. It is 
true, the law would do this for me; but I 
choose to let it be known that I wish it to 
be so. Jl amaware my father made that 
disposition of the place, should I die child- 
less before I became of age; but, once of 
age, the place is all mine; and that which 
is all mine, shall be all thine, after 1 am 
no more.”’ 

‘This is melancholy conversation, and, 
I trust, useless. Under the circumstances 
you mention, Miles, 1 never should have 
expected Clawbonny, nor do I know I 
ought to possess it. It comes as much 
from Jack Wallingford’s ancestors, as 
from our own; and it is better it should 
remain with the name. I will not promise 
you, therefore, I will not give it to him, 
the instant I can.”’ 

This Jack Wallingford, of whom [ have 
not yet spoken, was a man of five-and- 
forty, and a bachelor. He was a cousin- 
german of my father’s, being the son of a 


440 WORKS 


younger brother of my grandfather’s, and 
somewhat of a favorite. He had gone 
into what was called the new countries, in 
that day, or a few miles west of Cayuga 
Bridge, which put him into Western New 
York. JI had never seen him but once, 
and that was on a visit he paid us on his 
return from selling quantities of pot and 
pearl ashes in town; articles made on his 
new lands. He was said to be a prosper- 
ous man, and to stand little in need of the 
old paternal property. 

After a little more conversation on the 
subject of my will, Grace and I separated, 
each more closely bound to the other, I 
firmly believed, for this dialogue in the 
‘‘family room.’’ Never had my sister 
seemed more worthy of all my love; and, 
certain Iam, never did she possess more 
of it. Of Clawbonny she was as sure as 
my power over it could make her. 

The remainder of the week passed as 
weeks are apt to pass in the country, and 
insummer. Feeling myself so often un- 
comfortable in the society of the girls, I 
was much in the fields; always possessing 
the good excuse of beginning to look after 
my own affairs. Mr. Hardinge took 
charge of the major, an intimacy begin- 
ning to spring up between these two re- 
spectable old men. There were, indeed, 
so many points of common feeling, that 
such a result was not at all surprising. 
They both loved the Church—I beg par- 
don, the Holy Catholic Protestant Epis- 
copal Church. They both disliked Bon- 
aparte—the major hated him, but my 
guardian hated nobody—both venerated 
Billy Pitt, and both fancied the French 
Revoiution was merely the fulfillment of 
prophecy, through the agency of the 
devils. As we are now touching upon 
times likely to produce important results, 
let me not be misunderstood. As an old 
man, aiming, in a new sphere, to keep en- 
lightened the generation that is coming 
into active life, it may be necessary to 
explain. An attempt has been made to 
induce the country to think that Epis- 
copalian and tory were something like 
synonymous terms, in the ‘‘ times that 
tried men’s souls.”’ This is sufficiently 
impudent per se, in a country that pos- 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


sessed Washington, Jay, Hamilton, the 
Lees, the Morrises, the late Bishop White, 
and so many other distinguished patriots 
of the Southern and Middle States; but 
men are not particularly scrupulous when 
there is an object to be obtained, even 
though it be pretended that heaven is an 
incident of that object. I shall, therefore, 
confine my explanations to what I have 
said about Billy Pitt and the French. 
_ The youth of this day may deem it sus- 
picious that an Episcopal divine—Protes- 
tant Episcopal, I mean; but it is so hard 
to get the use of new terms as applied to 
old thoughts, in the decline of life !—may 
deem it suspicious that a Protestant Epis- 
copal divine should care anything about 
Billy Pitt, or execrate infidel France; I 
will, therefore, just intimate that, in 1802, 
no portion of the country dipped more 
deeply into similar sentiments than the 
descendants of those who first put foot on 
the rock of Plymouth, and whose progeni- 
tors had just before paid a visit to Ge- 
neva, where, it is ‘‘said or sung,’’ they 
had found a ‘‘church without a bishop, 
and a state without a king.’? Ina word, 
admiration of Mr. Pitt, and execration of 
Bonaparte, were by no means such novel- 
ties in America, in that day,:as to excite 
wonder. For myself, however, I can truly 
say, that, like most Americans who went 
abroad in those stirring times, I was ready 
to say with Mercutio, ‘‘a plague on both 
your houses; ’’ for neither was even mod- 
erately honest, or even decently respectful 
to ourselves. Party feeling, however, the 
most inexorable, and the most unprin- 
cipled, of all tyrants, and the bane of 
American liberty, notwithstanding all our 
boasting, decreed otherwise; and while 
one-half the American republic was shout- 
ing hosannas to the Great Corsican, the 
other half was ready to hail Pitt as the 
‘«‘ Heaven-born Minister.”’ Theremainder 
of the nation felt and acted as Americans 
should. It was my own private opinion, 
that France and England would have bee 
far better off, had neither of these worthies 
ever had a being. i 
be- 


Nevertheless, the union of opinion 
tween the divine and the major was 
great bond of union in friendship. I sa 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


they were getting on well together, and 
let things take their course. As for Emi- 
ly, I cared very little about her, except as 
she might prove to be connected with 
Rupert, and through Rupert with the 
happiness of my sister. As for Rupert, 
himself, I could not get entirely weaned 
from one whom I had so much loved in 
boyhood, and who, moreover, possessed 
the rare advantage of being Lucy’s 
brother and Mr. Hardinge’s son. ‘‘Sid- 
ney’s sister, Pembroke’s mother,’’ gave 
him a value in my eyes that he had long 
ceased to possess on his own account. 

<¢ You see, Neb,”’ I said, toward the end 
of the week, as the black and I were walk- 
ing up from the mill in company, ‘Mr. 
Rupert has altogether forgotten that he 
ever knew the name of a rope ina ship. 
His hands are as white as a young 
lady’s!’’ 

‘“< Nebber mind dat, Masser Mile. Mas- 
ser Rupert nebber feel a saterfaction to be 
wracked away, or to be prisoner to Injin ! 
Golly! No gentleum to be envy, sir, ’em 
doesn’t enjoy dat /”’ 

«© You have a queer taste, Neb, from all 
which I conclude you expect to return to 
town with me in the Wallingford, this 
evening, and to go out in the Dawn ?”’ 

«‘Sartain, Masser Mile. How you 
t’ink of goin’ to sea, and leave nigger at 
home? ” 

Here Neb raised sucha laugh that he 
might have been heard a hundred rods, 
seeming to fancy the idea he had sug- 
gested was so preposterous as to merit 
nothing but ridicule. 

“Well, Neb, I consent to your wishes; 
but this will be the last voyage in which 
you will have to consult me on the sub- 
ject, as I shall make out your freedom 
papers the moment I am of age.”’ 

<«“What dem?’’ demanded the black, 
quick as lightning. 

«Why, papers to make you your own 
master—a free man; you surely know 
what that means. Did you never hear 
of free niggers ?”’ 

‘‘Sartain—awful poor debble dey be, 
too. You catch Neb, one day, at being a 
free nigger, gib you leave to tell him ov 
it, Masser Mile ! ”’ 


44] 


Here was another burst of laughter 
that sounded like a chorus in merriment. 

“This is a little extraordinary, Neb! 
I thought, boy, all slaves pined for free- 
dom ? ”’ 

““P’raps so; p’raps not. What good 
he do, Masser Mile, when heart and body 
well satisfy as it is. Now, how long a 
Wallingford family lib, here, in this berry 
spot ?’? Neb always talked more like a 
‘nigger’? when within hearing of the 
household gods than he did at sea. 

‘How long? About a hundred years, 
Neb—just one hundred and seven, I be- 
lieve, to be accurate.”’ 

‘And how long a Clawbonny family, 
at ’e same time, Masser Mile? ”’ 

‘* Upon my word, Neb, your pedigree is 
a little confused, and I cannot answer 
quite as certainly. Highty or ninety, 
though, I should think, at least; and, 
possibly, a hundred, too. Let me see— 
you called old Pompey your grandfather ; 
did you not, Neb? ”’ 

‘‘Sart’in; berry good grandfader, too, 
Masser Mile. Ole Pomp a _ won’erful 
black !’’ 

‘Oh! I say nothing touching the qual- 
ity ; I dare say he was as good as another. 
Well, I think that I have heard old Pom- 
pey’s grandfather was an _ imported 
Guinea, and that he was purchased by 
my great-grandfather, about the year 
1700177 

“Dat just as good as gospel! Who 
want to make up lie about poor debble of 
nigger ? Well, den, Masser Mile, in all 
dem 1700 year, did he ebber hear of a 
Clawbonny, that want to be a free nig- 
ger? Tell me dat, at once, an’ I hab an 
answer.”’ 

«*You have asked me more than I can 
answer, boy ; for I am not in the secret of 
your wishes, much less in those of all your 
ancestors.’’ 

Neb pulled off his tarpaulin, scratched 
his wool, rolled his black eyes at me, as if 
he enjoyed the manner in which he had 
puzzled me; after which he set off on a 
tumbling excursion, in the road, going like 
a wheel on his hands and feet, showing his 
teeth like rows of pearls, and concluding 
the whole with roar the third, that 


442 


sounded asif the hills and valleys were 
laughing in the very fatness of their fer- 
tility. The physical tour de force was 
one of those feats of agility in which Neb 
had been my instructor, ten years be- 
fore. 

«*S’pose I free, who do sich matter for 
you, Masser Mile?” cried Neb, like one 
laying down an unanswerable proposition. 
‘No, no, sir—I belong to you, you belong 
to me, and we belong to one anodder.”’ 

This settled the matter for the present, 
and I said no more. Neb was ordered to 
be in readiness for the next day; and at 
the appointed hour, I met the assembled 
party to take my leave, on this, my third 
departure from the roof of my fathers. 
It had been settled the major and Emily 
were to remain at the farm until July, 
when they were to proceed to the Springs, 
for the benefit of the water, after living 
so long in a hot climate. I had passed an 
hour with my guardian alone, and he had 
no more to say than to wish me well, and 
to bestow his blessing. I did not ven- 
ture an offer to embrace Lucy. It was 
the first time we had parted without this 
token of affection; but I was shy, and I 
fancied she was cold. She offered me her 
hand, as frankly as ever, however, and | 
pressed it fervently, as I wished her adieu. 
As for Grace, she wept in my arms, just 
as she had always done; and the major 
and Emily shook hands cordially with me, 
it being understood I should find them in 
New York, at my return. Rupert ac- 
companied me down to the sloop. 

«‘Tf you should find an occasion, Miles, 
let us hear from you,’’ said my old friend. 
“‘T have a lively curiosity to learn some- 
thing of the Frenchmen; nor am I en- 
tirely without the hope of soon gratifying 
the desire, in person.”’ 

‘““You! If you have any intention to 
visit France, what better opportunity 
than to go in my cabin? Is it business 
that will take you there?’’ 

‘Not at all; pure pleasure. Our ex- 
cellent cousin thinks a gentleman of a cer- 
tain class ought to travel; and I believe 
she has an idea of getting me attached to 
the legation in some form or other.”’ 

This sounded so odd to me! Rupert 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


Hardinge, who had not one penny to rub 
against another, so lately, was now talk- 
ing of his European tour, and of legations ! 
I ought to have been glad of his good fort- 
une, and I fancied I was. I said nothing, 
this time, concerning his taking up any 
portion of my earnings, having the suffi- 
cient excuse of not being on pay myself. 
Rupert did not stay long in the sloop, and 
we were soon under way. I looked eager- 
ly along the high banks of the creek, 
fringed as it was with bushes, in hopes of 
seeing Grace, at least; nor was I disap- 
pointed. She and Lucy had taken a direct 
path to the point where the two waters 
united, and were standing there, as the 
sloop dropped past. They both waved 
their handkerchiefs, in a way to show the 
interest they felt in me; and I returned 
the parting salutations by kissing my 
hand again and again. At this instant, 
a sail-boat passed our bows, and I saw a 
gentleman standing up in it, waving his 
handkerchief, quite as industriously as I 
was kissing my hand. A look told me it 
was Andrew Drewett, who directed his 
boat to the point, and was soon making 
his bows to the girls in person. His boat 
ascended the creek, no doubt with his 
luggage ; while the last I saw of the party 
it was walking off in company, taking the 
direction of the house. 


CHAPTER XXYV. 


‘“‘Or feeling, as the storm increases, 
The love of terror nerve thy breast, 
Didst venture to the coast: 
To see the mighty war-ship leap 
From wave to wave upon the deep, 
Like chamois goat from steep to steep, 
Till low in valley lost.”—ALLSTON. 


dj 
‘ 4 

RoGER TALcotrT had not been idle dur- 
ing my absence. Clawbonny was so dear 
to me that I had stayed longer than was 
proposed in the original plan; and 1 now 
found the hatches on the Dawn, a crew 
shipped, and nothing remaining but bo 
clear out. J mean the literal thing, ana 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE 


as ‘‘charter coaches,”’ ‘on a boat,” “on 
board .a stage,’’ and other similar ele- 
‘*On a boat”? always makes me 


gances. 
——even at my present time of life. The 
Dawn was cleared the day I reached 
town. 

Several of the crew of the Crisis had 
Shipped with us anew, the poor fellows 


having already made away with all their 


wages and prize money, in the short space 
of amonth! This denoted the usual im- 
providence of sailors, and was thought 
nothing out of the common way. The 
country being at peace, a difficulty with 
Tripoli excepted, it was no longer neces- 
sary for ships to go armed. The sudden 
excitement produced by the brush with 
the French had already subsided, and the 
navy was reduced to a few vessels that 
had been regularly built for the service; 
while the list of officers had been curtailed 
of two-thirds of their names. We were 
no longer a warlike, but were fast getting 


to be a strictly commercial, body of sea-. 


men. I hadasingle six-pounder, and half 
-a@ dozen muskets, in the Dawn, besides a 
pair or two of pistols, with just ammuni- 
tion enough to quell a mutiny, fire a few 
signal-guns, or to kill a few ducks. 

We sailed on the 3d of July. I have 
elsewhere intimated that the Manhat- 
tanese hold exaggerated notions of the 
comparative beauty of the scenery of their 
port, sometimes presuming to compare it 
even with Naples; to the bay of which 
it bears some such resemblanee as a 
Dutch canal bears to a river flowing 
through rich meadows, in the freedom 
and grace of Nature. Nevertheless, there 
are times and seasons when the bay of 
New York offers a landscape worthy 
of any pencil. It was at one of these 
felicitous moments that the Dawn cast 
off from the wharf, and commenced her 
voyage to Bordeaux. There was barely 
air enough from the southward to enable 
us to handle the ship, and we profited 
by a morning ebb to drop down to the 
_ Narrows, in the midst of a fleet of some 
forty sail; most of the latter, however, 
being coasters. Still we were a dozen 
Ships and brigs, bound to almost as 
many different countries. 


The little air! on the part of my former owners. 


443 


there was seemed scarcely to touch the 
Surface of the water; and the broad ex- 
panse of bay was as placid as an inland 
lake of a summer’s morning. Yes, yes— 
there are moments when the haven of 
New York does present pictures on which 
the artist would seize with avidity ; but 
the instant Nature attempts any of her 
grander models, on this, a spot that 
seems never to rise much above the level 
of commercial excellences, it is found that 
the accessories are deficient in fap arise 
or even beauty. 

[have never seen our home waters so 
lovely as on this morning. The move- 
ments of the vessels gave just enough of 
life and variety to the scene to destroy the 
appearance of sameness ; while the craft 
were too far from the land to prevent one 
of the most unpleasant effects of the ordi- 
nary landscape scenery of the place—that 
produced by the disproportion between the 
tallness of their spars, and the low char- 
acter of the adjacent shores. As we drew 
near the Narrows, the wind increased ; 
and forty sail, working through the pass 
in close conjunction, terminated the piece 
with something like the effect produced by 
a finale in an overture. The brightness 
of the morning, the placid charms of the 
scenery, and the propitious circumstances 
under which I commenced the voyage, in 
a commercial point of view, had all con- 
tributed to make me momentarily forget 
my private griefs, and to enter cheerfully 
into the enjoyment of the hour. 

I greatly disliked passengers. They 
appeared to me to lessen the dignity of 
my position, and to reduce me to the level 
of an innkeeper, or one who received 
boarders. I wished to command a ship, not 
to take in lodgers ; persons whom you are 
bound to treat with a certain degree of 
consideration, and in one sense, as your su- 
periors, Still, it had too much of an appear- 
ance of surliness, and a want of hospitality, 
to refuse a respectable man a passage 
across theocean, when he might not get an- 
other chance ina month, and that too when 
it was important to himself to proceed im- 
mediately. In this particular instance, I 
became the dupe of a mistaken kindness 
These 


44-4 WORKS 


gentlemen brought to me Mr. Brigham— 
Wallace Mortimer Brigham was _ his 
whole name, to be particular—as a per- 
son who was desirous of getting to France 
with his wife and wife’s sister, in order to 
proceed to Italy for the health of the mar- 
ried lady, who was believed to be verging’ 
on a decline. These people were from the 
eastward, and had fallen into the old 
error of Americans, that the south of 
France and Italy had residences far more 
favorable for such a disease than our own 
country. This was one of the provincial 
notions of the day, that were entailed on 
us by means of colonial dependency. I 
suppose the colonial existence is as neces- 
sary to a people as childhood and ado- 
lescence are to the man; but as my Lady 
Mary Wortley Montagu told her friend, 
Lady Rich—‘‘ Nay ; but look you, my dear 
madam, I grant it a very fine thing to 
continue always fifteen; that, everybody 
must approve of—it is quite fair, but, in- 
deed, one need not be five years old.”’ 

‘I was prevailed on to take these pas- 
sengers, and I got a specimen of their 
characters as we dropped down the bay, 
in the midst of the agreeable scene to 
which I have just alluded. They were 
gossips; and that, too, of the lowest, or 
personal caste. Nothing made them so 
happy as to be talking of the private con- 
cerns of their fellow-creatures; and, as 
ever must happen where this propensity 
exists, nine-tenths of what they said 
rested on no better foundation than sur- 
mises, inferences drawn from premises 
of questionable accuracy, and judgments 
that were entered up without the author- 
ity, or even the inclination, to examine 
witnesses. They had also a peculiarity 
that I have often remarked in persons of 
the same propensity ; most of their gos- 
siping arose from a desire to make appa- 
rent their own intimacy with the private 
affairs of people of mark—overlooking the 
circumstance that, in thus making the 
concerns of others the subjects of their 
own comments, they were impliedly ad- 
mitting a consciousness of their own in- 
feriority ; men seldom condescending thus 
to busy themselves with the affairs of any 
but those of whom they feel it to be a 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


sort of distinction to converse. 
much afraid good-breeding has more to 
do with the suppression of this vice than 
good principles, as the world goes. I 
have remarked that persons of a high 
degree of self-respect, and a good tone of 
manners, are quite free from this defect 
of character; while I regret to be com- 
pelled to say that I have been acquainted 
with divers very saintly professors, in- 
cluding one or two parsons, who have rep- 
resented the very beau idéal of scandal. 

My passengers gave me a taste of their 
quality, as I have said, before we had got 
a mile below Governor’s Island. The 
ladies were named Sarah and Jane; and 
between them and Wallace Mortimer, 
what an insight did I obtain into the 
private affairs of sundry personages of 
Salem, in Massachusetts, together with 
certain glimpses in at Boston folks; all, 
however, referring to qualities and facts 
that might be classed among the real or 
supposed. I can at this distant day, re- 
call Scene Ist, Act 1st, of the drama that 
continued while we were crossing the 
ocean, with the slight interruption of a 
few days produced by sea-sickness. 

<«“Wallace,’’ said Sarah, “‘ did you say, 
yesterday, that John Viner had refused 
to lend his daughter’s husband twenty 
thousand dollars, to get him out of his 
difficulties, and that he failed in conse- 
quence? ”’ 

«To be sure. It was the common talk 
through Wall Street yesterday, and 


everybody believes it’’—there was no 


more truth in the story than in one of the 
forty reports that have killed General 
Jackson so often in the last twenty years. 
«Yes, no one doubts it—but ail the 
Viners are just so! All of us, in our part 


of the world, know what to think of the 


Viners.’’ 


««Yes, I suppose so,’’ drawled Jane. 


‘“Tve heard it said this John Viner’s 
father ran all the way from the Common 
in Boston, to the foot of State Street, to 
get rid of a dun against this very son, 
who had his own misfortunes when he was 
young.”’ 

«The story is quite likely true in part,” 
replied Wallace, ‘‘though it can’t be quate 


’ 


s 
Tan 


mi: 3 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


accurate, as the old gentleman had but 
one leg, and running was altogether out 


of the question with him. It was prob-. 


ably old Tim Viner, who ran like a deer 


when a young man, as I’ve heard people 
7 oD 3 


say.”’ 

*«“Well, then, I suppose he ran his 
horse,’ added Jane, in the same quiet, 
drawling tone. ‘‘ Something must have 
run, or they never would have got.up the 
story.”’ 

I wondered if Miss Jane Hitchcock had 
ever taken the trouble to ascertain who 
they were! I happened to know both the 
Viners, and to be quite certain there was 
not a word of truth in the report of the 
twenty thousand dollars, having heard all 
the particulars of the late failure from 
one of my former owners, who was an as- 
signee and a considerable creditor. Under 
the circumstances, I thought I would hint 
asmuch. “‘Are you quite sure that the 
failure of Viner & Co. was owing to the 
circumstance you mention, Mr. Brig- 
ham ?’’ I inquired. 

“Pretty certain. I am ‘measurably 
acquainted’ with their affairs, and think 
lam tolerably safe in saying so.”’ 

Now ‘“‘measurably acquainted ’’ meant 
that he lived within twenty or thirty miles 
of those who did know something of the 
concerns of the house in question, and was 
in the way of catching scraps of the gossip 
that fell from the disappointed creditors. 
How much of this is there in this good 
country of ours! Men who live just near 
enough to one another to feel the influence 
of all that rivalry, envy, personal strifes 
and personal malignancies can generate, 
fancy they are acquainted, from this cir- 
cumstance, with those to whom they have 
never even spoken. One half the idle 
tales that circulate up and down the land 
come from authority not one tittle better 
than this. How much would men learn, 
could they only acquire the healthful les- 
son of understanding that nothing which 
is much out of the ordinary way, and 
which circulates as received truths illus- 
trative of character, is true in all its 
material parts, and very little in any. 
But, to return to my passengers, and that 
portion of their conversation which, most 


eee 


445 


affected myself. They continued com- 
menting on persons and families by name, 
seemingly more to keep their hands in, 
than for any other discoverable reason, as 
each appeared to be perfectly conversant 
with all the gossip that was started ; when 
Sarah casually mentioned the name of 
Mrs. Bradfort, with some of whose sup- 
posed friends, it now came out, they had 
all a general visiting acquaintance. 

“Dr. Hosack is of opinion she can- 
not live long, I hear,’’ said Jane, with a 
species of fierce delight in killing a fellow- 
creature, provided it only led to a gossip 
concerning her private affairs. ‘‘ Her 
case has been decided to be a cancer, now, 
for more than a week, and she made her 
will last Tuesday.”’ 

‘*Only last Tuesday? ’’ exclaimed Sa- 
rah, in surprise. ‘‘ Well, I heard she had 
made her will a twelvemonth since, and 
that she left all her property to young 
Rupert Hardinge; in the expectation, 
some persons thought, that he might 
marry her.”’ 

‘‘How could that be, my dear ?’’ asked 
the husband; ‘‘in what would she be 
better off for leaving her own property to 
her husband ? ”’ 

«Why, by law, would she not? I don’t 
exactly know how it would happen, for 
I do not particularly understand these 
things; but it seems natural that a wo- 
man would be a gainer if she made the 
man she was about to marry her heir. 
She would have her thirds in his estate, 
would she not? ”’ 

«But, Mrs. Brigham,’’ said I, smiling, 
‘is it quite certain Mrs. Bradfort wishes 
to marry Rupert Hardinge, at all?’’ 

‘¢T know so little of the parties, that I 
cannot speak with certainty in the matter, 
I admit, Captain Wallingford.’’ 

«Well, but Sarah, dear,’’? interposed 
the more exacting Jane, ‘‘ you are making 
yourself unnecessarily ignorant. You 
very well know how intimate we are with 
the Greenes, and they know the Winters 
perfectly well, who are next-door neigh- 
bors to Mrs. Bradfort. .I don’t see how 
you can say we haven’t good means of 
being ‘measurably’ well informed.’’ 

Now I happened to know, through 


446 WORKS 
Grace and Lucy, that a disagreeable old 
person of the name of Greene did live next 
door to Mrs. Bradfort; but that the lat- 
ter refused to visit her, firstly, because 
she did not happen to like her, and sec- 
ondly, because the two ladies belonged to 
very different social circles; a sufficient 
excuse for not visiting in town, even 
though the parties inhabited the same 
house. But the Brighams, being Salem 
people, did not understand that families 
might reside next door to each other, in 
a large town, for a long series of months, 
or even years, and not know each other’s 
names. It would not be easy to teach 
this truth, one of everyday occurrence, 
tothe inhabitant of one of our provincial 
towns, who was in the habit of fancying 
he had as close an insight into the private 
affairs of all his neighbors. as they en- 
joyed themselves. 

‘*“No doubt we are all as well off as 
most strangers in New York,’ observed 
the wife; ‘still, it ought to be admitted 
that we may be mistaken. I have heard 
it said there is an old Mr. Hardinge, a 
clergyman, who would make a far better 
match for the lady than his son. How- 
ever, it is of no great moment, now, for, 
when our neighbor, Mrs. John Foote, saw 
Doctor Hosack about her own child, she 
got all the particulars out of him about 
Mrs. Bradfort’s case, from the highest 
quarter, and I had it from Mrs. Foote, 
herself.’’ 

**T could not have believed that a phy- 
sician of Doctor Hosack’s eminence and 
character would speak openly of the dis- 
eases of his patients,’’ I observed, a little 
tartly, Lam afraid. 

“Oh! he didn’t,’’ said Sarah, eagerly — 
*“*he was as cunning as a fox, Mrs. Foote 
owned herself, and played her off finely ; 
but Mrs. Foote was cunninger than any 
half-dozen foxes, and got it all out of him 
by negations.”’ 

‘‘Negations!’’ I exclaimed, wondering 
what was meant by the term, though I 
had understood I was to expect a little 
more philosophy and metaphysics, not to 
say algebra, in my passengers, than usu- 
ally accompanied petticoats in our part of 
the world. 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


‘Certainly, negations,’’ answered the 
matrons, with a smile as complacent as 


‘that which usually denotes the conscious-— 


ness of intellectual superiority. “One 
who is a little practiced can ascertain a 
fact as well by means of negatives as” 
affirmatives. It only requires judgment 
and use.”’ 

“Then Mrs. Bradfort’s desease is only 
ascertained by the negative process ? ”’ 

‘“So I suppose—but what does one want 
more ?”’ put in the husband; “‘and that 
she made her will last week, I feel quite 
sure, as it was generally spoken of among 
our friends.”’ 

Here were people who had been in New 
York only a month, looking out for a ship, 
mere passengers as it might be, who knew 
more about a family, with which I had 
myself such an intimate connection, than 
its own members. I thought itno wonder — 
that such a race was capable of enlighten- 
ing mankind, on matters and things in 
general. But the game did not end here. 

‘‘T suppose Miss Lucy Hardinge will 
get something by Mrs. Bradfort’s death,” 
observed Miss Jane, ‘‘and that she and 
Mr. Andrew Drewett will marry as soon 
as it shall become proper.”’ ; 

Here was a speculation for a man in my — 
stateof mind! The names were all right; 
some of the incidents, even, were probable, 
if not correct ; yet how could the facts be 
known to these comparative strangers? 
Did the art of gossiping, with all its mean- 
ness, lies, devices, inventions, and cruel-— 
ties, really possess so much advantage 
over the intercourse of the confiding and ; 
honest, as to enable those who practice ib— 
to discover facts hidden from eye-wit- 
nesses, and eye-witnesses, too, that had 
every inducement of the strongest inter- 
est in the issue, not to be deceived ? I felt 
satisfied, the moment Mrs. Greene’s name 
was mentioned, that my passengers were 
not in the true New York set; and, justly 
enough, inferred they were not very good 
authority for one-half they said ; and, yet 
how could they know anything of Drewett’s 
attachment to Lucy, unless their informa 
tion were tolerably accurate ? vt 

I shall not attempt to repeat all tha 
passed while the ship dropped down the 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


bay; but enough escaped the gossips to 
render me still more unhappy than I had 
yet been, on the subject of Lucy. I could 
and did despise these people—that was 
easy enough; but it was not so easy to 
forget all that they had said and sur- 
mised. This is one of the curses attend- 
ant on the habit of loose talking; one 
never knowing what to credit, and what 
not. In spite of all my disgust, and a 
firm determination not to contribute in 
any manner to the stock in trade of these 
people, I found great difficulty in evading 
their endless questions. How much they 
got out of me, by means of the process of 
negations, I never knew ; but they got no 
great matter through direct affirmatives. 
Something, however, persons so indefati- 
gable, to whom gossiping was the great 
aim of life, must obtain, and they ascer- 
tained that Mr. Hardinge was my guar- 
dian, that Rupert and I had passed our 
boyhoods in each other’s company, and 
that Lucy was even an inmate of my own 
house the day we sailed. This little 
knowledge only excited a desire for more, 
and by the end of a week, I was obliged 
to submit to devices and expedients to 
pump me, than which even the thumb- 
screw was scarcely more efficient. I 
practiced on the negative system, myself, 
with a good deal of dexterity, however, 
_ and threw my inquisitors off, very hand- 
_somely, more than once, until I discovered 
that Wallace Mortimer, determined not 
to be baffled, actually opened communica- 
tions with Neb, in order to get a clearer 
insight into my private affairs. After 
this, | presume my readers will not care 
to hear any more about these gentry, 
whose only connection with my life grew 
out of the misgivings they contributed 
largely to create in my mind touching the 
state of Lucy’s affections. This much 

‘they did effect, and I was compelled to 
Submit to their power. We are all of us, 
more or less, the dupes of knaves and 
fools. 

All this, however, was the fruits of 
Several weeks’ intercourse, and I have 
anticipated events a little in order to 
make the statements in connection. 
Meeting a breeze, as has been said 


447 


already, the Dawn got over the bar about - 
two o’clock, and stood off the land, on an 
easy bowline, in company with the little 
fleet of square-rigged vessels that went 
out at the same time. By sunset Nave- 
Sink again dipped, and I was once more 
fairly at sea. 

This was at the period when the com- 
merce of America was at its height. The 
spirit shown by the young republic in the 
French affair had commanded a little 
respect, though the supposed tendencies 
of the new administration were causing’ 
anything but a cordial feeling toward the 
country to exist in England. That power- 
ful nation, however, had made a hollow 
peace with France the previous March, 
and the highway of nations was tempo- 
rarily open to all ships alike, a state of 
things that existed for some ten months 
after we sailed. Nothing to be appre- 
hended, consequently, lay before me, be- 
yond the ordinary dangers of the ocean. 
For these last I was now prepared by the 
experience of several years passed almost 
entirely on board ship, during which time 
I had encircled the earth itself in my 
peregrinations. 

Our run off the coast was favorable, 
and the sixth day out we were in the 
longitude of the tail of the Grand Bank. 
I was delighted with my ship, which 
turned out to be even more than I had 
dared to hope for. She behaved well 
under all circumstances, sailing even bet- 
ter than she worked. The first ten days 
of our passage were prosperous, and we 
were mid-ocean by the 10th of the month. 
During this time I had nothing to annoy 
me but the ceaseless cancans of my pas- 
sengers. J had heard the name of every 
individual of note in Salem, with certain 
passages in his or her life, and began to 
fancy I had lived a twelvemonth in the 
place. At length I began to speculate on 
the reason why this morbid propensity 
Should exist so much stronger in that part 
of the world than in any other I had 
visited. There was nothing new in the 
disposition of the people of small places 
to gossip, and it was often done in large 
towns, more especially those that did not 
possess the tone of a capital. Lady Mary 


448 WORKS 


Wortley Montagu and Horace Walpole 
wrote gossip, but it was spiced with wit, 
as is usual with the scandal of su¢h places 
as London and Paris; whereas this to 
which I was doomed to listen was noth- 
ing more than downright impertinent, 
vulgar meddling with the private affairs 
of all those whom the gossips thought of 
sufficient importance to talk about. 

At Clawbonny we had our gossip, too, 
but it was innocent, seldom infringed much 
on the truth, and usually respected the 
right of every person to possess certain 
secrets that might remain inviolate to the 
world. No such rules prevailed with my 
passengers. Like a certain editor of a 
newspaper of my acquaintance, who acts 
as if he fancied all things in heaven and 
earth were created expressly to furnish 
materials for ‘‘paragraphs,’’ they ap- 
peared to think that everybody of their 
acquaintance existed for no other purpose 
than to furnish them food for conversa- 
tion. There must have been some un- 
usual cause for so much personal espion- 
age, and at length I came to the following 
conclusion on the subject. I had heard 
that church government among the Puri- 
tans descended into all the details of life; 
that it was a part of their religious duty 
to watch over each other, jog the memo- 
ries of the delinquents, and serve God by 
ferreting out vice. This is a terrible in- 
ducement to fill the mind with the motes 
of a neighborhood, and the mind thus 
stowed, as we sailors say, will be certain 
to deliver a cargo. Then come the insti- 
tutions, with their never-ending elections, 
and the construction that has been put on 
the right of the elector to inquire into all 
things; the whole consummated by the 
journals, who assume a power to pene- 
trate the closet, ay, even the heart, and 
lay bare its secrets. Is it any wonder if 
we should become in time a nation of mere 
gossips? As for my. passengers, even 
Neb got to consider them as so many 
nuisances. 

From some cause or other, whether it 
was having these loose-tongued people on 
board or not, is more than I can say, but 
certain it is, about the time Salem was 
handsomely cleaned out, and a heavy in- 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


road had been made upon Boston, that 
the weather changed. It began to blow in 
gusts, sometimes from one point of the — 
compass, sometimes from another, until — 
the ship was brought to very short can- 
vas, from a dread of being caught unpre- 
pared. At length these fantasies of the | 
winds terminated in a tremendous gale, 
such as I had seldom then witnessed, and 
such, indeed, as I have seldom witnessed 
since. It is a great mistake to suppose 
that the heaviest *weather occurs in the 
autumnal, spring, or winter months. 
Much the strongest blows I have ever 
known have taken place in the middle 
of the warm weather. This is the season 
of the hurricanes, and, out of the tropics, 

I think it is also the season of the gales. 
It is true, these gales do not return an- 
nually, a long succession of years fre- 
quently occurring without one; but when 
they do come, they may be expected in 
our own seas, in July, August or Sep- 
tember. 

The wind commenced at southwest on — 
this occasion, and it blew fresh for several — 
hours, sending us ahead on our course at — 
the rate of eleven knots. As the sea got 
up and sail was reduced, our speed was a 
little diminished, perhaps, but we must 
have made more than a hundred miles in 
the first ten hours. The day was bright, 
cloudless, genial, and even bland, there 
being nothing unpleasant in the feeling 
of the swift currents of air that whirled © 
past us. At sunset I did not quite like — 
the appearance of the horizon; and we let — 
the ship wade through it under her three 
topsails, single reefed, her fore-course, 
and fore-topmast stay-sail. This was- 
short canvas for a vessel that had the 
wind nearly over her taffrail. At nine 
o’clock second reefs were taken in, and at 
ten the mizzen-topsail was furled. I then 
turned in, deeming the ship quite snug, 
leaving orders with the mates to reduce 
the sail did they find the ship straining or 
the spars in danger, and to call me should 
anything serious occur. I was not ca é 


i ee Se ee oe 


on my shoulder and said, “‘ You had bet: 
ter turn out, Captain Wallingford, we 
have a peeler, and I want a little advice.” 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


It was a peeler, indeed, when I reached 
the deck. The ship was under a fore- 
course and a close-reefed main-topsail, can- 


vas that can be carried a long time while 


running off, but which I at once saw was 
quite too much for us. An order was 
given immediately to take in the topsail. 
Notwithstanding the diminutive surface 
that was exposed, the surges given by 
this. bit of canvas, as soon as the clews 
were eased off sufficiently to allow the 
cloth to jerk, shook tite vessel’s hull. It 
was a miracle that we saved the mast, or 
that we got the cloth rolled up at all. At 
one time I thought it would be necessary 
to cut it from the yard. Fortunately the 
gale was steady, this day proving bright 
and clear like that which had preceded it. 
The men aloft made several attempts to 
hail the deck, but the wind blew too heavi- 
ly to suffer them to be heard. Talcott 
had gone on the yard himself, and I saw 
him gesticulating in a way to indicate 
there was something ahead. The seas 
were running so high that it was not easy 
to obtain much of a look at the horizon, 
but by getting into the mizzen-rigging I 
had a glimpse of a vessel’s spars, to the 
eastward of us and directly on our course. 
It was a ship under bare poles, running as 
nearly before us as she could, but making 
most fearful yaws; sometimes sheering 
away off to starboard in a way to threaten 
her with broaching-to ; then taking a yaw 
to port, in which I could see all three of 
her masts, with her yards pointing nearly 
at us. I got but one glimpse of her hull 
as it rose on a sea at the same instant 
with the ‘Dawn, and it actually appeared 
as if about to be blown away; though I 
took the stranger to be a vessel at least 
as large aS we were ourselves. We were 
evidently approaching her fast, though 
both vessels were going the same way. 
The Dawn steered beautifully, one of 
the greatest virtues in a ship, under the 
circumstances in which we were then 


q placed. A single man was all that we 


had at the wheel, and he controlled it 

with ease. I could see it was very differ- 

ent with the ship ahead, and fancied 

they had made a mistake on board her, 

by taking in all their canvas. Talcott, 
IV.—15 


449 


and the gang aloft, had not got out of 
the top, however, before we had a hint 
that it would be well to imitate the 
stranger’s prudence. Though our vessel 
steered so much better than another, no 
ship can keep on a direct line while run- 
ning before the wind in a heavy sea. 
The waves occasionally fly past a vessel, 
like the scud glancing through the air; 
then they seem to pause altogether, as 
if to permit the ship to overtake them. 
When a vessel is lifted aft by one of 
these torrents of rushing waters, the 
helm loses a portion of its power; and 
the part of the vast machine that re- 
ceives the impulse, seems intent on ex- 
changing places with the bows, vesseis 
often driving sideways before the surge, 
for spaces of time that are exceedingly 
embarrassing to the mariner. This hap- 
pens to the best-steering ships, and is 
always one source of danger in very heavy 
weather, to those who are running off. 
The merit of the Dawn was in coming 
under command again, quickly, and in not 
losing so much of the influence of her 
helm, as is frequently the case with wild- 
steering craft. I understand there is a 
sloop-of-war now in the navy, that is diffi- 
cult to get through a narrow passage, in a 
blow, in consequence of her having this 
propensity to turn her head first one way, 
then another, like a gay horse that breaks 
his bridle. 

The hint given, just as Talcott was 
quitting the top, and to which there has 
been allusion, was given under the impul- 
sion of one of these driving seas. The 
Dawn still carried her fore-topmast stay- 
sail, a small triangular piece of stout can- 
vas, and which was particularly useful, as 
leading from the end of the bowsprit 
toward the head of the fore-topmast, in 
preventing her from broaching to, or 
passing up with her bows so near the 
wind as to produce the danger of seas 
breaking over the mass of the hull, and 
sweeping the decks. The landsman will 
understand this is the gravest of the dan- 
gers that occur at sea, in very heavy 
weather. When the ship is. thrown 
broadside to the sea, or comes up so as to 
bring the wind abeam, or even forward of 


450 


the beam, as in lying-to, there is always 
risk from this source. Another danger, 
which is called pooping, is of a character, 
that one who is ignorant of the might of 
the ocean when aroused, would not be apt 
to foresee. It proceeds from the impetu- 
ous velocity of the waves, which, rushing 
ahead so much faster than the vessel that 
is even driving before the gale, breaks 
against the quarter, or stern, and throws 
its masses of water along the deck, ina 
line withits keel. I suppose the President 
steamer to have been lost by the first of 
these two dangers, as will appear in the 
following little theory. 

There is no doubt that well-constructed 
steamers are Safer craft, the danger from 
fire excepted, than the ordinary ship, ex- 
cept in very heavy weather. With an 
ordinary gale, they can contend with suf- 
ficient power; but it is an unfortunate 
consequence of their construction, that ex- 
actly as the danger increases their power 
of meeting it diminishes. In a very heavy 
swell, one cannot venture to resort to a 
strong head of steam, since one wheel 
may be nearly out of water, while the 
other is submerged, and thus endanger 
the machinery. Now the great length of 
these vessels renders it difficult to keep 
them up to the wind, or head to sea, the 
safest of all positions for a vessel in heavy 
weather, while it exposes them to the ad- 
ditional risk of having the water break 
aboard them near the waist, in running 
dead before it. In a word, I suppose a 
steamer difficult to be kept out of the 
trough, in very heavy weather; and no 
vessel can be safe 2m the trough of the 
seas, under such circumstances; one of 
greatlength less so than others. This is 
true, however, only in reference to those 
which carry the old-fashioned wheel ; 
Ericsson’s screw and Hunter’s submerged 
wheels rendering steamships, in my poor 
judgment, the safest craft in the world. 

The Dawn was overtaken. by the seas, 
from time to time; and, then, like every- 
thing else that floats, she yawed,. or 
rather, had her stern urged impetuously 
round, as if it were in a hurry to get 
ahead of the bows. On these occasions 
the noise made by the fore-topmast stay- 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


sail, as it collapsed and filled, resembled 
the report of a small gun. We had simi- 
lar reports from the foresail, which, for 
moments at a time, was actually becalmed, 
as the ship settled into the trough, and 
then became distended with a noise like 
that of the shaking of a thousand car- 
pets, all filled with Sancho Panzas, at the 
same instant. <As yet, the cloth and gear 
had stood these violent shocks admirably ; 
but, just as Talcott was leading his party 
down, the ship made one of her sidelong 
movements; the staysail filled with a 
tremendous report, and away it flew to 
leeward, taken out of the bolt-rope as if 
it had been cut by shears, and then used 
by the furies of the tempest. Talcott 
smiled, as he gazed at the driving canvas, 
which went a quarter of a mile before it 
struck the water, whirling like a kite that 
had broken its string, and then he shook 
his head. I disliked, too, the tremendous 
surges of the foresail, when it occasional-- 
ly collapsed, and as suddenly filled, men- 
acing to start every bolt, and to part 
every rope connected with block or spar. 

‘‘We must get in that fore-course, Mr. 
Talcott,’’ I said, ‘‘or we shall lose some- 
thing. I see the ship ahead is under bare 
poles, and it were better we were as snug’. 
If I did not dislike losing such a wind, it 
would be wiser to heave-to theship; man 
the buntlines and clew-garnets, at once, 
and wait for a favorable moment.”’ 

We had held on to our canvas too long ; 


the fault of youth. As I had determined — 
to shorten sail, however, we now set — 


about it in earnest, and with all the pre- 
cautions exacted by the circumstances. 
Everybody that could be mustered was 


placed. at the clew-lines and buntlines, — 


with strict orders to do his best at the 
proper moments. The first mate went to 
the tack, and the second to the sheet. I 
was to take in the sail myself. 


was buried between two mounds of water, 
when it was impossible to see a hundred 
yards from her in any direction, and the 
canvas was actually dropping against the 
mast, I gave the usual orders. Every 
man hauled, as if for life, and we had got 
the clews pretty well up, when the vessel 


I waited — 
for a collapse; and then, while the ship 


* 
¢ 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


came out of the cavern into the tempest, 
receiving the whole power of the gale, 
with a sudden surge, into the bellying can- 
vas. Away went everything as if the 
gear were cobwebs. At the next instant 
the sail was in ribbons. I was deeply 
mortified, as well as rendered uneasy, by 
this accident, as the ship ahead unques- 
tionably was in full view of all that 
happened. 

It was soon apparent, however, that 
professional pride must give place to con- 
cern for the safety of the vessel. The wind 
had been steadily increasing in power, and 
had now reached a pass when it became 
necessary to look things steadily in the 
face. The strips of canvas that remained 
attached to the yard, with the blocks and 
gear attached, threshed about in a way to 
threaten the lives of all that approached. 
This was only at the intervals when the 
ship settled into the troughs; for, while 
- under the full influence of the gale, pen- 
nants never streamed more directly from 
a mast than did these heavy fragments 
from the fore-yard. It was necessary to 
get rid of them; and Talcott had just 
volunteered to go on the yard with this 
end, when Neb sprung into the rigging 
without an order, and was soon beyond 
the reach of the voice. This daring black 
had several narrow escapes, more espe- 
cially from the fore-sheet blocks; but he 
succeeded in cutting everything adrift, 
and in leaving nothing attached to the 
spar but the bolt-rope of the head of the 
sail. It is true, little effected this object, 
when the knife could be applied, the 
threads of the stout canvas snapping at 
the touch. 

As soon as the ship was under bare 
poles, though at the sacrifice of two of 
her sails, I had leisure to look out for the 
other vessel. There she was, more than 
half a mile ahead of us, yawing wildly, 
and rolling her lower yardarm to the 
water’s edge. As we drew nearer, I got 
better glimpses of this vessel, which was 
a ship, and as I fancied, an English West 
Indiaman, deep-loaded with the produce 
of the islands. Deep-loaded, as I fancied, 
for it was only atinstants that she could 
be seen at all under circumstances to 


451 


judge of this fact; sometimes her hull 
appearing to be nearly smothered in the 
brine, and then, again, her copper glisten- 
ing in the sun, resembling a light vessel 
kept under the care of some thrifty house- 
wife. 

The Dawn did not fly, now all her can- 
vas was gone, as fast as she had previous- 
ly done. She went through the water at 
a greater rate than the vessel ahead ; 


| but it required an hour longer to bring 


the two ships within a cable’s length of 
each other. Then, indeed, we got a near 
view of the manner in which the elements 
can play with such a mass of wood and 
iron aS a ship, when in an angry mood. 
There were instants when I fancied I could 
nearly see the keel of the stranger for 
half its length, as he went foaming up on 
the crest of a wave, apparently ready to 
quit the water altogether; then, again, 
he would settle away into the blue abyss, 
hiding everything beneath histops. When 
both vessels sunk together, no sign of our 
neighbor was visible, though so near. 
We came up after one of those deep 
plunges into the valleys of the ocean, 
and, to our alarm, saw the English ship 
yawing directly athwart our course, and 
within fifty fathoms of us. This was 
about the distance at which I intended to 
pass, little dreaming of finding the other 
ship so completely in our way. The En- 
glishman must have intended to come a 
little nearer, and got one of those des- 
perate sheers that so often ran away 
with him. There he was, however; and 
a breathless minute followed when he was 
first seen. Two vehicles dashing along a 
highway, with frightened and runaway 
teams, would not present a sight one-half 
as terrific as that which lay directly be- 
fore our eyes. 

The Dawn was plunging onward with 
a momentum to dash in splinters, did she 
strike any resisting object, and yawing 
herself sufficiently to render the passage 
hazardous. But the stranger made the, 
matter tenfold worse. When I first saw- 
him in this fearful proximity, his broad-. 
side was nearly offered to the seas, and 
away he was fiying, on the summit of a 
mountain of foam, fairly crossing our 


452 


forefoot. At the next moment, he fell 
off before the wind again, and I could 
just see his tops directly ahead. His 
sheer had been to port, our intention 
having been to pass him on his larboard 
side; but, perceiving him to steer so wild, 
I thought it might be well to go in the 
other direction. Quick as the words could 
be uttered, therefore, I called out to port 
our helm. This was done, of course; and 
just as the Dawn felt the new influence, 
the other vessel took the same sheer, and 
away we both went to starboard at pre- 
cisely the same instant. I shouted to 
right our helm to “ hard a-starboard,”’ 
and it was well I did; a minute more 
would have brought us down headlong 
on the Englishman. Even now we could 
only see his hull at instants; but the 
awful proximity of his spars denoted the 
full extent of the danger. Luckily we 
hit on opposite directions, or our common 
destruction would have been certain. 

But it was one thing in that caldron of 
a sea to determine ona course, and an- 
other to follow it. As we rose on the last 
wave that alone separated us from the 
stranger, he was nearly ahead; and as 
we glanced onward, I saw that we could 
barely clear his larboard quarter. Our 
helm being already a-starboard, no more 
could be done. Should he take another 
sheer to-port, we must infallibly cut him 
in twain. As I have said, he had jammed 
his helm to-port, and slowly, and with a 
species of reluctance, he inclined a little 
aside. Then we came up, both ships roll- 
ing off, or our yards must have inter- 
locked, and passing his quarter with our 
bows, we each felt the sheer at the same 
instant, and away we went asunder, the 
sterns of the ships looking at each other, 
and certainly not a hundred feet apart. 
A shout from Talcott drew me to our 
taffrail, and, standing on that of our 
neighbor, what or whom should I see 
waving his hat, but the red countenance 
of honest Moses Marble! 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 


‘* At the piping of all hands, 
When the judgment signal’s spread— 
When the islands and the lands, 

And the seas give up the dead, 
And the south and the north shall come; 
When the sinner is dismay’d, 
And the just man is afraid, 
Then Heaven be thy aid, 
Poor Tom.” 


—BRAINARD. 


THE two ships, in the haste of their 
respective crews to get clear of each 
other, were now running in the troughs ; 
and the same idea would seem to have 
suggested itself to me and the other mas- 
ter, at the same instant. Instead of 
endeavoring to keep away again, one 
kept his helm hard a-port, and the other 
as hard a-starboard, until we both came 
by the wind, though on opposite tacks. 
The Englishman set his mizzen-staysail, 
and though he made bad weather of it, 
he evidently ran much less risk than in 
scudding. The seas came on board him 
constantly ; but not in a way to do any 
material damage. As for the Dawn, she 
lay-to, like a duck, under bare poles. I 
had a spare staysail stopped up in her 
mizzen-rigging, from the top down, and 
after that the ship was both easy and dry. 
Once in a while, it is true, her bows would 
meet some fellow heavier than common, 
and then we got a few hogsheads of water 
forward; but it went out to leeward as 
fast as it came in to windward. At the 
turn of the day, however, the gale broke, 
and the weather moderated sensibly ; 
both sea and wind beginning to go down. 

Had we been alone, I should not have 
hesitated about bearing up, getting some 
sail on the ship, and running off on my 
course, again; but the desire to speak 
the stranger, and have some communica- — 
tion with Marble, was so strong, that I — 
could not make up my mind to do so. In- © 
cluding myself, Talcott, Neb, the cabin 
steward, and six of the people forward, 
there were ten of us on board who knew 
the ex-mate ; and, of the whole ten, there — 
was not a dissenting voice concerning his 
identity. I determined, therefore, to stick 
by the Englishman, and at least have 
some communication with my old friend. — 
As for myself, I own I loved Marble, un- __ 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


couth and peculiar as he sometimes was. 
I owed him more than any other man liv- 
ing, Mr. Hardinge excepted; for he had 
made me a seaman, having been of use to 
me professionally in a hundred ways. 
Then we had seen so much in company, 
that I regarded him as a portion of my 


experience, and as, in some measure, iden- 


tified with my own nautical career. 

I was afraid at one moment that the 
Englishman intended to remain as he was 
all night; but, about an hour before sun- 
set, I had the gratification to see him set 


- his foresail and keep off. I had wore 


round, two hours before, to get the 
Dawn’s head on the same tack with him, 
and followed under bare poles. As the 
stranger soon set his main-topsail, close 
reefed, and then his fore, it enabled us to 
make a little sail also, in order to keep up 
with him. This we did all that night; 
and, in the morning, both ships were 
under everything that would draw, with 
a moderate breeze from the northward, 
and no great matter of sea going. The 
English vessel was about a league to lee- 
ward of us, and a little ahead. Under 
such circumstances, it was easy to close. 
Accordingly, just as the two ships’ com- 
panies were about to go to breakfast, the 
Dawn ranged up under the lee-quarter of 
the stranger. 

‘‘ What ship’s that?’’ I hailed in the 
usual manner. 

“«“The Dundee ; Robert Ferguson, mas- 
ter. What ship’s that? ”’ 

“The Dawn; Miles 
Where are you from? ’”’ 

‘“‘From Rio Janeiro, bound to London. 
Where are you from ? ”’ 

“From New Yerk to Bordeaux. A 
heavy blow we have just had of it.” 

“‘Quite; the like of it I’ve not seen 
in many a day. You’ve a pretty sea- 


Wallingford. 


boat, yon !”’ 


«“She made capital weather, in the late 
gale, and I’ve every reason to be satisfied 
with her. Pray, haven’t you an Ameri- 
can on board, of the name of Marble ? 
We fancied that we saw the face of an 
old shipmate on your taffrail, yesterday, 
and have kept you company in order to 
inquire after his news.”’ 


453 


*‘ Ay, ay,’’ answered the Scotch mas- 
ter, waving his hand, ‘‘the chiel will be 
visiting you prasently. He’s below, 
stowing away his dunnage; and will be 
thanking you for a passage home, I’m 
thinking..’’ 

As these words were uttered, Marble 
appeared on deck, and waved his. hat, 
again, in recognition. This was enough; 
as we understood each other, the two 
Ships took sufficient room, and hove-to. 
We lowered our boat, and Talcott went 
alongside of the Dundee, in quest of our 
old shipmate. Newspapers and news 
were exchanged ; and in twenty minutes 
I had the extreme gratification of grasp- 
ing Marble once more by the hand. 

My old friend was too much affected to 
speak for some little time. He shook 
hands with everybody, and seemed as 
much astonished as he was delighted at 
finding so many of us together again; but 
not a syllable did he utter for several 
minutes. I had his chest passed into the 
cabin, and then went and took my seat 
alongside of him on the hen-coops, intend- 
ing to hear his story, as soon as he was 
disposed to give it. But it was no easy 
matter to get out of ear-shot of my pas- 
sengers. During the gale, they had been 
tongue-tied, and I had a little peace; but, 
no sooner did the wind and sea go down, 
than they broke out in the old spot, and 
began to do Boston, in the way they had 
commenced. Now Marble had come on 
board in a manner so unusual, and it was 
evident a secret history was to be re- 
vealed, they all three took post in the 
companion-way, in a manner to render it 
impossible anything material could escape 
them. I knew the folly of attempting a 
change of position on deck; we should 
certainly be followed up; and, people of 
this class, so long as they can make the 
excuse of saying they heard any part of a 
secret, never scruple about inventing the 
portions that happen to escape their ears. 
Consequently, I desired Marble and Tal- 
cott to follow me; and, incontinently, I 
led the way into the main-top. I was 
obeyed, the second mate having the 
watch, and all three of us were soon 
seated with our legs over the top-rim, as 


454 WORKS 


comfortable as so many gossips, who had 
just finished their last cups, have stirred 
the fire, and drawn their heads together 
to open a fresh budget. Neither Sarah 
nor Jane could follow us, thank God ! 

«There, d—n ’em,” said I, a little 
pointedly, for it was enough to make a 
much more scrupulous person swear, 
<‘we’ve got the length of the main-rig- 
ging between us, and I do not think 
they will venture into the top, this fine 
morning, in order to overhear what shall 
be said. It would puzzle even Wallace 
Mortimer to do that, Talcott.’’ 

“Tf they do,”’ observed Talcott, laugh- 
ing, “we can retreat to the cross-trees, 
and thence to the royal-yard.”’ 

Marble looked inquisitive, but, at the 
same time, he looked knowing. 

‘*T understand,”’ he said, with a nod; 
“‘three people with six sets of ears—is it 
not so, Miles? ”’ 

‘‘ Precisely ; though you only do them 
credit by halves, for you should have 
added to this inventory forty tongues.’’ 

‘Well, that is a large supply. The 
man, or woman, who is so well provided, 
should carry plenty of ballast. However, 
as you say, they’re out of hail now, and 
must guess at all they repeat, if repeating 
it can be called.’’ 

‘“Quite as much as nine-tenths of what 
they give as coming from others,’’ ob- 
served Talcott. ‘‘ People never can tell 
so much of other person’s affairs, with- 
out bailing out most of their ideas from 
their own scuttle-butts.”’ 

<‘ Well, let them go to—Bordeaux,”’ said 
I, “‘since they are bound there. And 
now, my dear Marble, here we are, and 
dying to know all that has happened to 
you. You have firm friends in Talcott 
and myself; either of us ready to give 
you his berth for the asking.”’ 

“Thank ’ee, my dear boys—thank ’ee, 
with all my heart and soul,’’ returned the 
honest fellow, dashing the moisture from 
his eyes, with the back of his hand. ‘1 
believe you would, boys; I do believe you 
would, one or both. I am glad, Miles, 
you came up into this bloody top, for I 
wouldn’t like to let your reg’lar ’long- 
shore harpies see a man of my time of 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


life, and one that has been to sea, now, 
man and boy, close on to forty years, with 
as much blubber about him as one of your 
right whales. Well—and now for the log; — 
for I suppose you'll insist on overhauling — 
it, lads.”’ } 

‘“‘That we shall, and see you miss no 
leaf of it. Be as particular as if it were 
overhauled in an insurance case.”’ 

“Ay; they’re bloody knaves, some- 
times, them underwriters, and a fellow 
need be careful to get his dues out of 
them—that is to say some ; others ag’in 
are gentlemen down to their shoe-buckles, ; 
and no sooner see a poor shipwrecked 
devil, than they open their tills, and begin _ 
to count out before he has opened his 
mouth.”’ 

‘‘Well, but your own adventures, my 
old friend ; you forget we are dying with — 
curiosity.”’ | a 

“Ay; your cur’osity’s a troublesome — 
inmate, and will never be quiet as long as — 
one tries to keep it under hatches; espe- 
cially female cur’osity. Well, I must 
gratify you, and so I’ll make no more 
bones about it, though it’s giving an ac- 
count of my own obstinacy and folly. I 
reckon, now, my boys, you missed me the ~ 
day the ship sailed from the island ? ”’ 

“That we did, and supposed you had — 
got tired of your experiment before it — 
began,’’ I answered, ‘‘so were off, before 
we were ourselves.”’ 

«“You had reason for so thinking, 
though you were out in your reckoning 
too. No—it happened in this fashion. 
After you left me I began to generalize 
over my situation, and I says to myself, © 
says I, ‘Moses Marble, them lads will 
never consent to sail and leave you here, 
on this island, alone, like a bloody hermit,’ — 
says I. ‘If you want to hold on,’ says I, 
‘and try your hand at a hermitage,’ says 
I, ‘or to play ‘‘ Robinson Crusoe,” ’ says 
I, ‘you must be out of the way when the 
Crisis sails’—boys, what’s become of the 
old ship? Not a word have I heard about 
her, yet !”’ é j 

«‘She was loading for London when we 
sailed, her owners intending to send he 
the same voyage over again.”’ ‘ 

«‘ And they refused to let you have her 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


Miles, on account of your youth, notwith- 
standing all you did for them ?”’ 

‘<Not so; they pressed me to keep her, 
put I preferred a ship of my own. The 
Dawn is my property, Master Moses.” 

«Thank God! Then there is one hon- 
est chap among the owners. And how 
did she behave? Had you any trouble 
with the pirates ?”’ 

Perceiving the utter uselessness of at- 
tempting to hear his own story before I 
rendered an account of the Criszs and her 
exploits, I gave Marble a history of her 
voyage from the time we parted down to 
the day we reached New York. 

‘«“And that scaramouch of a schooner 
that the Frenchman gave us in his char- 
ity ?’’ 

<The Pretty Poll? She got home safe, 
was sold, and is now in the West India 
trade. There is a handsome balance, 
amounting to some fourteen hundred dol- 
lars, in the owners’ hands, coming to you 
from prize money and wages.”’ 

It is not in nature for any man to be 
sorry he has money. I saw by Marble’s 
eyes that this sum, so unusually large for 
him to possess, formed a new tie to the 
world, and that he fancied himself a much 
happier man in possessing it. He looked 
at me earnestly for quite a minute, and 
then remarked, I make no doubt with sin- 
cere regret— | 

‘‘Miles, if 1 had a mother living now, 
that money might make her old age com- 
fortable! It seems that they who have 
no mothers have money, and they who 
have no money have mothers.”’ 

I waited a moment for Marble to re- 
cover his self-command, and then urged 
him to continue his story. 

“«‘T was telling you how I generalized 
over my situation,’’ resumed the ex-mate, 
“as soon aS I found myself alone in the 
hut. I came to the conclusion that I 
should be carried off by force, if I re- 
mained till next day; and so |l got into 
the launch, carried her out of the lagoon, 
taking care to give the ship a berth, 
went through the reef, and kept turning 
to windward until daybreak. By that 
time the island was quite out of sight, 
though I saw the upper sails of the ship 


455 


as soon as you got her under way. I 
kept the topgallant-sails in sight, until I 
made the island again; and as you went 
off I ran in and took possession of my do- 
minions, with no one to dispute my will, 
or to try to reason me out of my consait.”’ 

‘‘.am glad to hear you term that no- 
tion conceit, for, certainly, it was not 
reason. You soon discovered your mis- 
take, my old messmate, and began to 
think of home.’’ 

‘‘T soon discovered, Miles, that if I had 
neither father nor mother, brother nor 
sister, that I had a country and friends. 
The bit of marble on which I was found 
in the stonecutter’s yard then seemed as 
dear to me as a gold cradle is to a king’s 
son ; and I thought of you, and all the 
rest of you—nay, I yearned after you as a 
mother would yearn for her children.” 

‘‘ Poor fellow, you were solitary enough, 
I dare say ; had you no amusement with 
your pigs and poultry ? ”’ 

<« For a day or two they kept me pretty 
busy. But by the end of a week I discov- 
ered that pigs and poultry were not made 
to keep company with man. I had con- 
saited that I could pass the rest of my 
days in the bosom of my own family, like 
any other man who had made his fortune 
and retired, but I found my household too 
small for such a life as that. My great 
mistake was in supposing that the Mar- 
ble family could be happy in its own cir- 
cle.”’ 

This was said bitterly, though it was 
said drolly, and while it made Talcott 
and myself laugh, it also made us 
SOrry. 

‘‘T fell into another mistake, however, 
boys,’’ Marble continued, ‘‘and it might 
as well be owned. I took it into my 
head that I should be all alone on the 
island, but I found, to my cost, that the 
devil insisted on having his share. Tl 
tell you how it is, Miles, a man must 
either look ahead or look astarn; there 
is no such thing as satisfying himself 
with the present moorings. Now this 
was my misfortune, for ahead I had 
nothing to look forward to, and astarn 
what comfort had I in overhauling past 
sins? ’’ bi 


456 


*‘T think I can understand your diffi- 
culties, my friend; how did you manage 
to get rid of them ?”’ 

“‘T left the island. You had put the 
Frenchman’s launch in capital condition, 
and all I had to do was to fill up the 
breakers with fresh water, kill a hog and 
salt him away, put on board a quantity 
of biscuit, and be off. As for eatables, 
you know there was no scarcity on the 
island, and I took my choice. I make no 
doubt there are twenty hogsheads of un- 
damaged sugars at this very moment in 
the hold of that wreck and on the beach 
of the island. I fed my poultry on it the 
whole time I stayed.’’ 

** And so you abandoned Marble Land 
to the pigs and the fowls ? ”’ 

‘‘T did, indeed, Miles, and I hope the 
poor creatures will have a comfortable 
time of it. I gave ’em what the lawyers 
call a quitclaim, and sailed two months to 
a day after you went off in the Criszs.”’ 

‘«T should think, old shipmate, that your 
voyage must have been as solitary and 
desperate as your life ashore.’’ 

“‘T am amazed to hear you say that. 
I’m never solitary at sea, one has so much 
to do in taking care of his craft, and then 
he can always look forward to the day 
he’ll get in. But this generalizing, night 
and day, without any port ahead, and 
little comfort in looking astarn, will soon 
,fit a man for Bedlam. I just weathered 
Cape Crazy, I can tell you, lads, and that 
too in the white water! As for my v’y’ge 
being desperate, what was there to make 
it so, I should like to know ? ” 

«“ You must have been twelve or fifteen 
hundred miles from any island where you 
could look forward to anything like safe- 
ty, and that isa distance one would rather 
not travel all alone on the high seas.’’ 

**Pshaw! all consait. You’re getting 
notional, Miles, now you’re a master and 
owner. What’s a run of a thousand or 
fifteen hundred miles, in a tight boat, and 
with plenty of grub and water? It was 
the easiest matter in the world, and if it 
warn’t for that bloody Cape Horn, I 
should have made as straight a wake for 
Coenties’ Slip as the trending of the land 
would have allowed. As it was, I turned 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


to windward, for I knew the savages to 
leeward weren’t to be trusted. You see 
it was as easy as working out a day’s 
work. I kept the boat on a wind all day, 
and long bits of the night, too, until I 
wanted sleep, and then I hove her to 
under areefed mainsail, and slept as sound 
as alord. I hadn’t an uncomfortable mo- 
ment after I got outside of the reef again, 
and the happiest hour of my life was that 
in which I saw the tree tops of the island 
dip.”’ 

«¢ And how long were you navigating in 
this manner, and what land did you first 
make ? ”’ 

““Seven weeks, though I made half a 
dozen islands, every one of them just such 
a looking object as that I had left. You 
weren’t about to catch me ashore again ~ 
in any of them miserable places! I gave — 
the old boat a slap, and promised to stick — 
by her as long as she would stick by me, 
and I kept my word, I saw savages, 
moreover, on one or two of the islands, — 
and gave them a berth, having no fancy 
for being barbecued.”’ 

«¢ And where did you finally make your 
landfall ? ”’ 

‘“‘Nowhere, so far as the launch was 
concerned. I fell in with a Manilla ship, 
bound to Valparaiso, and got on board 
her; and sorry enough was I for the 
change, when I came to find out how they 
lived. The captain took me in, however, 
and I worked my passage into port. 
Finding no ship likely to sail soon, I en- 
tered with a native who was about to 
cross the Andes, bound over on this side, 
for the east coast. Don’t you remember, 
Miles, monsters of mountains that we 
could see, a bit mland, and covered with 
snow, all along the west side of South 
America? You must remember the ~ 
chaps I mean.’’ a 

‘‘Certainly—they are much too plain, 
and objects much too striking, ever to be 
forgotten, when once seen.”’ 

‘Well, them’s the Andes; and rough 
customers they be, let me tell you, boys. 
You knowthere is little amusement in a 
sailor’s walking on the levelest ’arth and 
handsomest highways, on account of the 
bloody ups and downs a fellow meets 


p 


with ; and so you may get some idee of 
the time we had of it, when I tell you, 
had all the seas we saw in the last blow 
been piled on top-of each other, they 
would have made but a large pancake, 
compared to them ’ere Andes. Natur’ 
must have outdone herself in making ’em ; 


and when they were thrown together, 


what good comes of it all? Such moun- 
tains might be of some use in keeping the 
French and English apart ; but you leave 
nothing but bloody Spaniards on one side 
of them Andes, and find bloody Spaniards 
and Portuguese on the other. However, 
we found our way over them, and brought 
up at a place called Buenos Ayres, from 
which I worked my passage round to Rio 
in a coaster. At Rio, you know, | felt 
quite at home, having stopped in there 
often, in going backward and forward.”’ 
‘«*And thence you took passage in the 
Dundee for London, intending to get a 
passage home by the first opportunity ? ”’ 
«©Tt needs no witch to tell that. I had 
to scull about Rio for several months do- 


ing odd jobs as a rigger, and the like of 


that, until, finding no Yankee came in, I 
got a passage in a Scotchman. [ll not 
complain of Sawney, who was kind enough 
to me as a shipwrecked mariner ; for that 
was the character I sailed under, hermits 
being no way fashionable among us Prot- 
estants, though it is very different among 
them Catholic chaps, I can tell you. I 
happened to mention to a landlady on the 
road, that I was a sort of hermit on his 
travels: when I thought the poor woman 
would have gone down.on her knees and 
worshiped me.”’ 

Here then was the history of Moses 
Marble, and the end of the colony of Mar- 
ble Land, pigs and poultry excepted. It 
was now my turn to be examined. I had 
to answer fifty curious inquiries, some of 
which I found sufficiently embarrassing. 
When, in answer to his interrogatories, 
Marble learned that the major and Miss 
Merton had actually been left at Clawbon- 
ny, | saw the ex-mate wink at Talcott, who 
smiled in reply. Then, where was Rupert, 
and how came on the law? The farm and 
mills were not forgotten ; and as for Neb, 
he was actually ordered up into the top, 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


457 


in order that there might be another shake 
of the hand, and that he might answer 
for himself. In a word, nothing could be 
more apparent than the delight of Marble 
at finding himself among us once more. 
I believed even then, that the man loved 
me; and the reader will remember how 
long we had sailed together, and how 
much we had seen in company. More 
than once did my old shipmate dash the 
tears from his eyes as he spoke of his 
satisfaction. 

‘T say, Miles—I say, Roger,’ he cried 
—‘‘this is like being at home, and none 
of your bloody hermitages! Blast meif I 
think, now, I should dare pass through a 
wood all alone. I’m never satisfied unless 
I see a fellow-creatur’, for fear of being 
left. I did pretty well with the Scotch- 
man, who has a heart, though it’s stowed 
away in oatmeal, but this is home. I 
must ship as your steward, Miles, for hang 
on to you I will.”’ 

‘‘If we ever part, again, until one or 
both go into dock, it will be your fault, 
my old friend. If Ihave thought of you 
once, since we parted, I have dreamed of 
you fifty times! Talcott and I were talk- 
ing of you in the late gale, and wondering 
what sail you would advise us to put the 


ship under.”’ 


‘The old lessons have not all been for- 
gotten, boys; it was easy enough to see 
that. Isaid to myself, as you stood down 
upon us, ‘that chap has a real sea-dog 
aboard, as is plain by the manner in which 
he has everything snug, while he walks 
ahead like an owner in a hurry to be first 
in the market.’ ”’ 

It was then agreed Marble should keep 
a watch, whenever it suited him, and that — 
he should do just as he pleased aboard. 
At some future day, some other arrange- 
ment might be made, though he declared 
his intention to stick by the ship, and also 
announced a determination to be my first 
mate for life, as soon as Talcott got a ves- 
sel, as doubless he would, through the 
influence of his friends, as soon as he 
returned home. I laughed at all this, 
though I bade him heartily welcome, and 
then I nicknamed him commodore, add- 
ing that he should sail with me in that 


458 


capacity, doing just as much and just as 
little duty as he pleased. As for money, 
there was a bag of dollars in the cabin, 
and he had only to put his hand in, and 
take what he wanted. The key of the 
locker was in my pocket, and could be 
had for asking. Nobody was more de- 
lighted with this arrangement than Neb, 
who had even taken a fancy to Marble 
from the moment when the latter led him 
from the steerage of the John, by the ear. 

“IT say, Miles, what sort of bloody ani- 
mals are them passengers of yours ?”’ 
Marble next demanded, looking over the 
rim of the top, down at the trio on deck, 
with a good deal of curiosity expressed in 
his countenance. ‘‘ This is the first time 
I ever knew a ship-master driven aloft by 
his passengers, in order to talk secrets ! ”’ 

‘That is because you never sailed with 
the Brigham family. They’ll pump you 
till you suck, in the first twenty-four 
hours, rely on it. They’ll get every fact 
about your birth, the island where you 
first saw me, what you have been about, 
and what you mean to do; in a word, the 
past, present, and future.”’ 

‘*« Leave me to overlay their cur’osity,”’ 
answered the ex-mate, or new commodore 
—‘<T got my hand in by boarding six 
weeks with a Connecticut old maid, once, 
and J’ll defy the keenest questioner of 
them all.’’ 

We had a little more discourse, when 
we all went below, and I introduced 
Marble to my passengers as one who 
was to join our mess. After this, things 
went on in their usual train. In the 
course of the day, however, I overheard 
the following brief dialogue between Brig- 
ham and Marble, the ladies being much too 
delicate to question so rough a mariner. 

“You came on board of us somewhat 
unexpectedly, I rather conclude, Captain 
Marble? ’’? commenced the gentleman. 

“Not in the least; I have been expect- 
ing to meet the Dawn, just about this 
spot, more than a month, now.”’ 

“Well, that is odd! I do not compre- 
hend how such a thing could well be fore- 
seen ?”’ 

. Do you understand spherical trigo- 
nometry, sir?’’ 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


“*T cannot say I am at all expert— 
I’ve looked into mathematics, but have 
no great turn for the study.” 

“It would be hopeless, then, to attempt 
to explain the matter. If you had your 
hand in at the spherical, I could make 
it all as plain as the capstan.”’ 
~ You and Captain Wallingford must 
be somewhat old acquaintances, I con- 
clude ?”’ 

‘‘Somewhat,’’ answered Marble, very 
dryly. 

‘‘ Have you ever been at the place that 
he calls Clawbonny? A queer name, I 
rather think, captain ! ”’ 

‘‘Not at all, sir. I know a place down 
in the EKastern States that was called 
Scratch and Claw, and a very pretty 
spot it was.”’ 

‘‘Tt’s not usual for us to the eastward 
to give names to farms and places. It is 
done a little by the Boston folks, but they 
are notional, as everybody knows.” | 

“‘ Exactly ; I suppose it was for want 
of use the chap I mean made out no bet- 
ter in naming his place.”’ 

Mr. Brigham was no fool ; he was mere- 
ly a gossip. He took the hint, and asked 
no more questions of Marble. He tried | 
Neb, notwithstanding ; but the black hay- 
ing his orders, obeyed them so literally, 
that I really believe we parted in Bor- 
deaux, a fortnight later, without any of 
the family’s making the least discovery. 
Glad enough was I to get rid of them; 
yet, brief as had been our intercourse, — 
they produced a sensible influence on my 
future happiness. Such is the evil of this — 
habit of loose talking, men giving credit — 
to words conceived in ignorance and ut- 
tered in the indulgence of one of the most — 
contemptible of all our propensities. To — 
return to my ship. a 

We reached Bordeaux without any fur- 
ther accident or delay. I discharged in 
the usual way, and began to look about 
me, for another freight. It had been my 
intention to return to New York, and to — 
keep the festivities of attaining my major- 
ity, at Clawbonny; but, I confess, the 
discourse of these eternal gossips, the 
Brighams, had greatly lessened the desire 
to see home again, so soon. A freight for 


4 


4 


New York was offered me, but I postponed 
an answer, until it was given to another 
ship. At length an offer was made to me 
to go to Cronstadt, in Russia, with a cargo 
of wines and brandies, and I accepted it. 
The great and better informed merchants, 
as it would seem, distrusted the continu- 
ance of the hollow peace that then existed, 
and a company of them thought it might 
be well to. transfer their liquors to the 
capital of the czar, in readiness for con- 
tingencies. An American ship was pre- 
ferred, on account of her greater speed, 
as well as on account of her probable 
neutral character, in the event of troubles 
occurring at any unlooked-for moment. 

The Dawn took in her wines and 
brandies accordingly, and sailed for the 
Baltic about the last of August. She had 
a long, but safe passage, delivering the 
freight according to the charter-party, in 
good condition. While at Cronstadt, the 
American consul, and the consignees of 
an American ship that had lost her 
master and chief mate by the small-pox, 
applied to me to let Marble carry the 
vessel home. I pressed the offer on my 
old friend, but he obstinately refused to 
have anything to do with the vessel. L 
then recommended ‘Talcott, and after 
- gome negotiation, the latter took charge 
of the Hyperion. I was sorry to part 
with my mate, to whom I had become 
strongly attached; but the preferment 
was so clearly to his advantage, that i 
could take no other course. The vessel 
being ready, she sailed the day after 
Talcott joined her; and, sorry am I to be 
compelled to add, that she was never 
heard of, after clearing the Cattegat. 
The equinox of that season was tremen- 
dously severe, and it caused the loss of 
many vessels; that of the Hyperion 
doubtless among the rest. 

Marble insisted on taking Talcott’s 
place, and he now became my chief mate, 
as Lhad once been his. After a little de- 
lay, I took in freight on Russian govern- 
ment account, and sailed for Odessa. It 
was thought the Sublime Porte would let 
an American through; but, after reach- 
ing the Dardanelles, I was ordered back, 
and was obliged to leave my cargo in 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


~ 459 


Malta, which it was expected would be 
in possession of its own knights by that 
time, agreeably to the terms of the late 
treaty. From Malta I sailed for Leg- 
horn, in quest of another freight. I pass 
over the details of these voyages, as real- 
ly nothing worthy of being recorded oc- 
curred. They consumed a good deal of 
time ; the delay at the Dardanelles alone 
exceeding six weeks, during which nego- 
tiations were going on up at Constanti- 
nople, but all in vain. In consequence of 
all these detentions, and the length of the 
passages, I did not reach Leghorn until 
near the close of March. I wrote to 
Grace and Mr. Hardinge, whenever a 
favorable occasion offered, but I did not 
get a letter from home, during the whole 
period. It was not in the power of my 
sister or guardian—late guardian would 
be the most accurate expression, as I had 
been of age since the previous October—to 
write; it being impossible for me to let 
them know when, or where, a letter would 
find me. It followed that while my 
friends at home were kept tolerably ap-< 
prised of my movements, I was absolutely 
in the dark as respected them. That this 
ignorance gave me great concern it would 
be idle to deny; yet, I had a species of 
desperate satisfaction in keeping aloof, 
and in leaving the course clear to Mr. An- 
drew Drewett. As respects substantials, 
I had sent a proper power of attorney to 
Mr. Hardinge, who, I doubted not, would 
take the same care of my temporal inter- 
ests he had fever ceased to do since the 
day of my beloved mother’s death. 
Freights were not offering freely at 
Leghorn, when the Dawn arrived. After 
waiting a fortnight, however, I began to 
take in for America, and on American 
account. In the meantime, the cargo 
coming to hand slowly, I left Marble to 
receive it, and proceeded on a little excur- 
sion in Tuscany, or Etruria, as that part 
of the world was then called. I visited 
Pisa, Lucca, Florence, and several other 
intermediatetowns. At Florence I passed 
a week looking at sights, and amusing 
myself the best way I could. The gallery 
and the churches kept me pretty busy, 
and the reader will judge of my surprise 


460 WORKS 


one day, at hearing my own name uttered 
on a pretty high key, by a female voice, 
in the Duomo, or Cathedral of the place. 
On turning I found myself in the presence 
of the Brighams! I was overwhelmed 
with questions in a minute. Where had I 
been? Where was Talcott ? , Where was 
the ship? When did I sail, and whither 
did I sail? After this came the communi- 
cations. They had been to Paris; had 
seen the French Consul, and had dined 
with Mr. R. N. Livingston, then negotiat- 
ing the treaty of Louisiana ; had seen the 
Louvre; had been to Geneva, had seen 
the lake; had seen Mont Blanc; had 
crossed Mont Cenis; had been at Milan; 
Rome; had seen the Pope; Naples; had 
seen Vesuvius; had been at Pestum; 
had come back to Florence, and nous 
voice | 

Glad enough was I, when I got them 
fairly within the gates of the city of the 
Lily. Next came America; from which 
part of the world they received such de- 
lightful letters! One from Mrs. Jonathan 
Little, a Salem lady then residing in New 
York, had just reached them. It con- 
tained four sheets, and was full of news. 
Then commenced the details; and I was 
compelled to listen to a sere of gossip 
that cennected nearly all the people of 
mark my informants had ever heard of 
in the great Commercial Emporium that 
was to be. How suitable was this name! 
Emporium would not have been suffi- 
ciently distinctive for a town in which 
‘‘the merchants ”’ are all in‘all; in which 
they must have the post-office ; in which 
they support the nation by paying all 
the revenue; in which the sun must 
shine and the dew fall to suit their 
wants; and in which the winds them- 
selves may be recreant to their duty, 
when they happen to be foul! Like the 
Holy Catholic Protestant Episcopal 
Church, Trading Commercial Traffick- 
ing Emporium should have been the 
Style of such a place; and I hope, ere 
long, some of the ‘“‘Manor Born”’ genii 
of that great town will see the matter 
rectified. 

“ By the way, Captain Wallingford,”’ 
cut in Jane, at one of Sarah's breathing 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


intervals, that reminded me strongly of 
the colloquial Frenchman’s “ s’¢1 crache 
vl est perdu,’’ ‘you know something of a 
poor Mrs. Bradfort, I believe?”’? I as- 
sented by a bow. 

“Tt was just as we told you,” cried 
Sarah, taking her revenge. ‘‘The poor — 
woman is dead! and, no doubt, of that i 
cancer. What a frightful disease! and 
how accurate has our information been in 
all that affair ! ”’ ; 

“‘ T think her will the most extraordinary 
of all,”’ added Mr. Brigham, who, as a 
man, kept an eye more to the main chance. 
‘“T suppose you have heard all about her 
will, Captain Wallingford ?’’ 

I reminded the gentleman that this was 
the first 1 had ever heard of the lady’ Ss 
death. 

‘“‘She has left every dollar to young Mr. 
Hardinge, her cousin’s son,”’ added Jane, 
‘cutting off that handsome, genteel 
young lady, his sister, as well as her 
father, without a cent ’’—in 1803 théy just 
began to speak of cents, instead of far- 
things—‘“‘ and everybody says it was so 
cruel !”’ | 

“That is not the worst of it,’ put in 
Sarah. ‘‘ They do say that Miss Merton, 
the English lady that made so much noise 
in New York—let me see, Mr. Brigham, — 
what earl’s granddaughter did we hear 
she was? ”’ Y 

This was a most injudicious question, as 
it gave the husband an opportunity to 
take the word out of her mouth. 

‘* Lord Cumberland’s, I believe, or some ~ 
such person ; but no matter whose. It is | 
quite certain General Merton, her father, — 
consents to let her marry Mr. Hardinge, — 
now Mrs. Bradfort’s will is known; and, — 
as for the sister, he declares he will ee A 
give her a dollar.”’ a 

‘He will have sixteen thousand dollars — 
a year,’ said Jane, with emphasis. . 

“Six, my dear, s7x,’’ returned the 
brother, who had reasonably accurate 
notions touching dollars and cents, or he 
never would have been traveling in Italy; 
‘‘six thousand dollars a year was just 
Mrs. Bradfort’s income, as my old school- 
fellow Upham told me, and there isn’t an- 
other man in York who can tell fortunes: 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


as true as himself. He makes a business 
of it, and don’t fail one time in twenty.’ 
“And is it quite certain that Mr. Ru- 
pert Hardinge gets all the fortune of Mrs. 
Bradfort? ”’ I asked, with a strong effort 
to seem composed. ° 

«‘ Not the least doubt of it in the world. 
Everybody is talking about it; and there 
cannot well be a mistake, you know, as it 
was thought the sister would be an heir- 
ess, and people generally take care to be 
pretty certain about that class. But, of 
course, a young man of that fortune will 
be snapped up, as a swallow catches a fly. 
I’ve bet Sarah a pair of gloves we hear of 
his marriage in three months.” 

The Brighams talked an hour longer, 
and made me promise to visit them at 
their hotel, a place I could not» succeed in 
finding. That evening I left Florence for 
Leghorn, writing a note of apology, in 
order not to be rude. Of course, I did not 
believe half these people had told me; but 
a part, | made no doubt, was true. Mrs. 
Bradfort was dead, out of all question ; 
and I thought it possible she might not so 
far have learned to distinguish between 
the merit of Lucy, and that of Rupert, to 
leave her entire fortune to the last. As 
for the declaration of the brother that he 
‘would give hissister nothing, that seemed 
to me to be rather strong even for Rupert. 
I knew the dear girl too well, and was 
certain she would not repine; and I was 
burning with the desire to be in the field, 
now she was again penniless. 

What a change was this! Here were 
the Hardinges, those whom I had known 
as poor almost as dependents on my own 
family, suddenly enriched. I knew Mrs. 
Bradfort had a large six thousand a year 
besides her own dwelling house, which 
stood in Wall Street, a part of the com- 
mercial emporium that was just beginning 
to be the focus of banking, and all other 
moneyed operations, and which even then 
promised to become a fortune of itself. It 
is true, that old Daniel M’Cormick still 
held his levees on his venerable stoop, 
where all the heavy men in town used to 
congregate, and joke, and buy and sell, 
and abuse Boney; and that the Win- 
throps, the Wilkeses, the Jaunceys, the 


461 


Verplancks, the Whites, the Lu dlows, and 
other families of mark, then had their 
town residences in this well-known street ; 
but coming events were beginning ‘‘ to 
cast their shadows before,’’ and it was 
easy to foresee that this single dwelling 
might at least double Rupert’s income, 
under the rapid increase of the country 
and the town. Though Lucy was still 
poor, Rupert was now rich. 

If family connection, that all-important 
and magical influence, could make so 
broad a distinction between us, while I 
was comparatively wealthy and Lucy had 
nothing, what, to regard the worst side 
of the picture, might I not expect from it 
when the golden scale preponderated on 
her side? That Andrew Drewett would 
still marry her, I began to fear again. 
Well, why not? I had never mentioned 
love to the sweet girl, fondly, ardently as 
I was attached to her; and what reason 
had I for supposing that one in her situa- 
tion could reserve her affections for a 
truant sailor? I am afraid I was unjust 
enough to regret that this piece of good 
fortune should have befallen Rupert. He 
must do something for his sister, and 
every dollar seemed to raise a new barrier 
between us. 

From that hour I was all impatience to 
get home. Had not the freight been en-’ 
gaged, 1 think I should have sailed in 
ballast. By urging the merchants, how- 
ever, we got to sea May 15th, with a full 
carge, a portion of which [had purchased 
on my own account with the money earned 
by the ship within the last ten months. 
Nothing occurred worthy of notice until 
the Dawn neared the Straits of Gibraltar. 
Here we were boarded by an English 
frigate, and first learned the declaration 
of a new war between France and En- 
gland; a contest that, in the end, in- 
volved in it all the rest of Christendom. 
Hostilities had already commenced, the 
First Consul having thrown aside the 
mask just three days after we left port. 
The frigate treated us well, it being too 
soon for the’abuses that followed, and we 
got through the pass without further 
molestation. : 

As soon as in the Atlantic I took care 


462 WORKS 


to avoid everything we saw, and nothing 
got near us until we had actually made 
the Highlands of Navesink. An English 
sloop-of-war, however, had stood into the 
angles of the coast formed by Long Island 
and the Jersey shore, giving us a race for 
the Hook. I did not know whether I 
ought to be afraid of this cruiser or not, 
but my mind was made up not to be 
boarded if it could be helped. We suc- 
ceeded in passing ahead, and:entered the 
Hook while he was still a mile outside of 
the bar. I gota pilot on the bar, as was 
then very usual, and stood up toward the 
town with studding-sails set, it being just 
a twelvemonth, almost to an hour, from 
the day when I passed up the bay in the 
Crisis. The pilot took the ship in near 
Coenties’ Slip, Marble’s favorite berth, 
and we had her secured and her sails 
unbent before the sun set. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 


With look like patient Job’s, eschewing evil; 
With motions graceful as a bird’s in air; 
Thou art, in sober truth, the veriest devil 
That ere clinched fingers in a captive’s hair.” 
—HALLECK. 


THERE was about an hour of daylight, 
when I left the counting-house of the con- 
signees, and pursued my way up Wall 
Street, to Broadway. I was on my way 
to the City Hotel, then, as now, one of the 
best inns of the town. On Trinity Church 
walk, just as I quitted the Wall Street 
crossing, whom should I come plump upon 
in turning, but Rupert Hardinge? He 
was walking down the street in some little 
haste, and was evidently much surprised, 
perhaps I might say startled, at seeing 
me. Nevertheless, Rupert was not easily 
disconcerted, and his manner at once be- 
came warm, if not entirely free from em- 
barrassment. He was in deep mourning; 
though otherwise dressed in the height of 
the fashion. 

“Wallingford !’’ he exclaimed—it was 
the first time he did not call me “ Miles ’’— 
‘‘Wallingford! my fine fellow, what cloud 
did you drop from ?, We have had so many 
reports concerning you, that your appear- 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


eo 
a ty ¥ i 


ance is as much a matter of surprise’ as 
would be that of Bonaparte, himself. Of — 
course your ship is in ?”’ 4 

“‘Of course,’ I answered, taking his — 
offered hand; ‘‘ you knowI am wedded to 
her, for better, for worse, until death or 
shipwreck doth us part.”’ / 

‘* Ay, so I’ve always told the ladies— 
‘there is no other matrimony in Walling- 
ford,’ I’ve said often, ‘than that which 
will make him a ship’s husband.’ But 
you look confoundedly well —the sea 
agrees with you famously.”’ 

“‘T make no complaint of my health— 
but tell me of that of our friends and 
families. Your father 3 

“Is up at Clawbonny, just now—you ~ 
know how it is with him. No change of 
circumstances will ever make him regard 
his little smoke-house-looking church as 
anything but a cathedral, and his parish 
asa diocese. Since the great change in — 
our circumstances, all this is useless, and 
I often think—you know one wouldn’t 
like to say as much to him—but I often — 
think, he might just. as well give up’ 
preaching, altogether.’’ : 

“Well, this is good, so far—now for 
the rest of you, all. You meet my im- 
patience too coldly.’ | 

“Yes, you were always an impatient 
fellow. Why, I suppose you need hardly 
be told that I have been admitted to the — 
bar.”’ j 

‘That I can very well imagine—you ~ 
must have found your sea-training of — 
great service on the examination.”’ 

“Ay! my dear Wallingford—what a 
simpleton Iwas! But one is so apt to — 
take up strange conceits in boyhood, that 
he is compelled to look back at them in — 
wonder, in after life. But, which way are 
you walking ?’’—slipping an arm in mine — 
—‘‘if up, Pll take a short turn with you. — 
There’s scarce a soul in town, at this sea- 
son; but you will see prodigiously fine 
girls in Broadway, at this hour, notwith+ — 
standing—those that belong to the other 
sets, you know ; those that belong to fami-— 
lies that can’t get into the country among 
the leaves. Yes, as I was saying, one 
scarce knows himself, after twenty. Now 
I can hardly recall a taste, or an inclina- 


im! 
¢ 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


tion, that I cherished in my teens, that 


has not flown to the winds. Nothing is 
permanent in boyhood—we grow in our 
persons, and our minds, sentiments, affec- 
tions, views, hopes, wishes, and ambition 
all take new directions.”’ 

«This is not very flattering, Rupert, to 
one whose acquaintance with you may be 
said to be altogether boyish.”’ 

«Qh! of course I don’t mean that. 
Habit keeps all right in such matters; 
and I dare say I shall always be as 
much attached to you as I was in child- 
hood. Still, we are on diverging lines, 
now, and cannot forever remain boys.” 

‘You have told me nothing of the 
rest,’ I said, half choked, in my eager- 
ness to hear of the girls, and yet unac- 
countably afraid to ask. I believe I 
dreaded to hear that Lucy was married. 

«« How, and where is Grace?” 

“Oh! Grace !—yes, I forgot her, to my 
shame, as you would naturally wish to in- 
quire. Why, my dear captain, to be as 
frank as one ought to be with so old an 
acquaintance, your sister is not ina good 
way, I’m much afraid ; though I’ve not 
seen her inan age. She was down among 
us in the autumn, but left town for the 
holidays, for them she insisted on keeping 
at Clawbonny, where she said the family 
had always kept them, and away she 
went. Since then, she has not returned ; 
but I fear she is far from well. You know 
what a fragile creature Grace ever has 
been—so American! Ah! Wallingford, 
our females have no constitutions—charm- 
ing as angels, delicate as fairies, and all 
that ; but not to be compared to the En- 
glish women in constitutions.”’ 

T felt a torrent of fire rushing through 
my blood, and it was with difficulty I re- 
frained from hurling the heartless scoun- 
drel who leaned on my arm, into the 
ditch. A moment of reflection, however, 
warned me of the precipice on which I 
stood. He was Mr. Hardinge’s son, 
Lucy’s brother ; and I had no proofs that 
he had ever induced Grace to think he 
loved her. It was so easy for those who 
had been educated as we four had been, to 
be deceived on such a point, that I felt it 
unsafe to do anything precipitately. 


463 


¢ 

Friendship, habit, as Rupert expressed it, 
might so easily be mistaken for the fruits 
of passion, that one might well be deceived. 
Then it was all-important to Grace’s self- 
respect, to her feelings, in some measure 
to her character, to be careful, that I 
suppressed my wrath, though it nearly 
choked me. 

«‘T am sorry to hear this,”’ I answered, 
after a long pause, the deep regret I felt 
at having such an account of my sister’s 
health contributing to make my manner 
seem natural; “very, very sorry to hear 
it. Grace is one that requires the tender- 
est care and watching; and I have been 
making passage after passage in pursuit 
of money, when I am afraid I should have 
been at Clawbonny, discharging the duties 
of a brother. I can never forgive my- 
self?’ 

‘«‘ Money isa very good thing, captain,’’ 
answered Rupert, with a smile that ap- 
peared to mean more than the tongue ex- 
pressed—‘* a surprisingly good thing is 
money! But you must not exaggerate 
Grace’s illness, which I dare say is merely 
constitutional, and will lead to nothing. 
I hope your many voyages have produced. 
their fruits ? ”’ 


« And Lucy,’’ I resumed, disregarding: 


his question concerning my own success 
asan owner, “where and how is she? i 

‘‘ Miss Hardinge is in town—in her own 
—that is, in owr house—in Wall Street, 
though she goes to the place in the morn- 
ing. No one who can, likes to remain 
among these hot bricks, that has a pleas- 
ant country-house to fly to, and open to 
receive him. But I forgot—I have sup- 
posed you to know what it is very likely 
you have never heard ?”’ 

‘‘T learned the death of Mrs. Bradfort 
while in Italy, and, seeing you in black, at 
once supposed it was for her.”’ 

«Yes, that’s just ity An excellent 
woman has been taken from us, and, had 
she been my own mother, I could not have 
received greater kindnesses from her. Her 
end, my dear Wallingford, was admitted: 
by all the clergy to be one of the most. 
edifying known in the place for years.”’ 

«And Mrs. Bradfort has left you her 


heir? It is now time to congratulate you. 


464 WORKS 


‘ : ; a 
on your good fortune. As I understand | selves. Between the two, the common 


her estate came through females to her, 
and from a common ancestor of hers and 
yours, there is not the slightest reason 
why you should not be gratified by the 
bequest. But Lucy—I hope she was not 
altogether forgotten ? ’’ 

Rupert fidgeted, and I could see that he 
was on tenterhooks. As Il afterward dis- 
covered, he wished to conceal the real 
facts from the world; and’ yet he could 
not but foresee that I would probably 
learn them from his father. Under all 
the circumstances, therefore, he fancied it 
best to make me a confidant. We were 
strolling between Trinity and Paul’s 
church walks, then the most fashionable 
promenade in town; and, before he would 
lay open his secret, my companion led me 
over by the Oswego Market, and down 
Maiden Lane, lest he might betray him- 
self to. the more fashionable stocks and 
stones. He did not open his lips until 
clear of the market, when he laid bare his 
budget of griefs in something that more 
resembled his old confidential manner 
than he had seen fit to exhibit in the 
earlier part of our interview. 

“You must know, Miles,’’ he com- 
menced, ‘‘that Mrs. Bradfort was a very 
peculiar woman—a very peculiar sort of a 
person, indeed. An excellent lady I am 
ready to allow, and one that made a re- 
markably edifying end—but one whose 
peculiarities, I have understood, she in- 
herited with her fortune. Women do get 
the oddest conceits into their heads, you 
know, and American women before all 
others; a republic being anything but 
favorable to the continuations of property 
in the same line. Miss Merton, who is a 
girl of excellent sense, as you well know 
yourself, Miles, says, now in England I 
should have succeeded, quite as a matter 
of course, to g/l Mrs. Bradfort’s real 
estate.’ 

“You, as a lawyer, a common-law law- 
yer, can scarcely require the opinion of 
an English woman to tell you what the 
English laws would do in a question of 
descent.”’ 

“Oh! they’ve a plaguey sight of 
statutes in that country as well as our- 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


law is getting to be a very uncommon 
sort of a law. But, to cut the matter 
short, Mrs. Bradfort made a wil/——”’ 

*‘Dividing her property equally be- 
tween you and Lucy, I dare say, to Miss 
Merton’s great dissatisfaction.”’ 

‘“Why, not just so, Miles, not exactly 
SO; a very capricious, peculiar woman 
was Mrs. Bradfort—’’ 

I have often remarked, when a person 
has succeeded in throwing dust into an- 
other’s eyes, but is discarded on being 
found out, that the rejected of principle 
is very apt to accuse his former dupe of 
being capricious, when in fact he has 
only been deceived. As I said nothing, 
however, leaving Rupert to flounder on in 
the best manner he could, the latter, 
after a pause, proceeded. | 

‘‘ But her end was very admirable,”’ he 
said, ‘‘and to the last degree edifying. 
You must know she made a will, and in 
that will she left everything, even to the 
town and country-houses, to—my sister.”’ 

I was thunderstruck! Here were all 
my hopes blown again to the winds. 
After a long pause, I resumed the dis- 
course. 

‘‘And whom did she leave as ex- 
ecutor?’’ I asked, instantly foreseeing 
the consequences should that office be 
devolved on Rupert himself. am 

‘‘My father. The old gentleman has 
had his hands full between your father — 
and mother and Mrs. Bradfort. Fort- 
unately the estate of the lastisina good 
condition and is easily managed. Almost 
entirely in stores and houses in the best 
part of the town, well insured, a few 
thousands in stocks, and as much in 
bonds and mortgages, the savings from 
the income, and something like a year’s 
rents in bank. A good seven thousand 
a year, with enough surplus to pay for 
repairs, collections, and other charges.” 

«‘ And all this, then, is Lucy’s!”’ I ex- 
claimed, feeling something like the bitter- — 
ness of knowing that such an heiress was 
not for me. 

‘‘Temporarily, though of course I con- 
sider Lucy as only my trustee for half of 
it. You know how it is with the women ; 


% 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


they fancy all us young men spendthrifts, 
and so between the two they have rea- 
soned in this way—‘ Rupert is a good fel- 
low at bottom, but Rupert is young, and 
he will make the money fly; now, Ill 
give it all to you, Lucy, in my will, but of 
course you'll take care of your brother, 
and let him have half, or perhaps two- 
thirds, being a male, at the proper time, 
which will be as soon as you come of age 
and can convey.’ You understand Lucy 
is but nineteen, and cannot convey these 
two years.”’ t 

«“And Lucy admits this to be true? 
You have proof of all this ? ’’ 

“‘Proof! I’d take my own affidavit of 
it. You see it is reasonable, and what I 
had a right to expect. Everything tends 
to confirm it. Between ourselves I had 
quite $2,000 of debt, and yet you see the 
good lady did not leave me a dollar to pay 
even my honest creditors, a circumstance 
that so pious a woman, and one who made 
so edifying an end, would never think of 
doing without ulterior views. Consider- 
ing Lucy as my trustee explains the whole 
thing.’’ 

«1 thought Mrs. Bradfort made you an 
allowance, Rupert; some $600 a year, 
besides keeping you in her own house? ”’ 

“A thousand; but what is $1,000 a 
year to a fashionable man in a town like 
this. First and last, the excellent old 
lady gave me about $5,000, all of which 
confirms the idea, that at the bottom she 
intended me for her heir. What woman 
in her senses would think of giving $5,000 


to a relative to whom she did not contem- 


plate giving more ? The thing is clear on 
its face, and I should certainly go into 
chancery with anybody but Lucy.’’ 

“And Lucy! what says she to your 
views on the subject of Mrs. Bradfort’s 
intentions ? ”’ 

“Why, you have some acquaintance 
with Lucy—used to be intimate with her, 
as one might say, when children, and know 
something of her character.’’ This to me, 
who fairly worshiped the earth on which 
the dear girl trod! ‘‘ She never indulges 
in professions, and likes to take people 
by surprise when she contemplates doing 
them a service ’’—this was just as far 


465 


from Lucy’s natural and honest mode 
of dealing as it was possible to be—‘‘ and 
so she has been aS mum as one who has 
lost the faculty of speech. However, she 
never speaks of her affairs to others ; 
that is a good sign, and indicates an in- 
tention to consider herself as my trustee ; 
and, what is better still, and more plainly 
denotes what her conscience dictates in 
the premises, she has empowered her 
father to pay all my debts; the current 
income and loose cash being at her dis- 
posal at once. It would have been better 
had she given.me the money to satisfy 
these creditors with it, for 1 knew which 
had waited the longest and were best 
entitled to receive the dollars at once; 
but, it’s something to have all their re- 
ceipts in my pocket, and to start fair 
again. Thank Heaven, that much is al- 
ready done. ‘To do Lucy justice, more- 
over, she allows me $1,500 a year, ad 
interim. Now, Miles, I’ve conversed with 
you as with an old friend, and because 
I knew my father would tell you the 
whole when you got up to Clawbonny ; 
but you will take it all in strict confidence. 
It gives a fashionable young fellow so 
silly an air to be thought dependent on 
a sister; and she three years younger 
than himself! So I have hinted the 
actual state of the case round among my 
friends; but, it is generally believed that 
I am in possession already, and that Lucy 
is dependent on me instead of my being 
dependent on her. The idea, moreover, 
is capital for keeping off fortune hunters, 
as you will see at a glance.”’ 

‘‘And will the report satisfy a certain 
Mr. Andrew Drewett?’ I asked, strug- 
gling to assume a composure I was far 
from feeling. ‘‘ He wasallattention when 
I sailed, and I almost expected to hear 
there was no longer a Lucy Hardinge.”’ 

«To tell you the truth, Miles, 1 thought 
so, too, until the death of Mrs. Bradfort. 
The mourning, however, most opportunely 
came to puta stop to anything of the sort, 
were it even contemplated. It would be 
so awkward, you will understand, to have 
a brother-in-law before everything is 
settled, and the trust is accounted for. 
Au reste—I am very well satisfied with 


466 WORKS 


Andrew, and let him knoweI am his 
friend ; he is well connected ; fashionable ; 
has a pretty little fortune; and, as lsome- 
times tell Lucy, that he is intended for 
her, as Mrs. Bradfort, no doubt, foresaw, 
inasmuch as his estate, added to just one- 
third of that of our dear departed cousin, 
would just make up the present income. 
On my honor, now, I do not think the dif- 
ference would be five hundred dollars per 
annum.”’ 

‘‘And how does your sister receive your 
hints ? ”’ 

‘Oh! famously—just as all girls do, 
you know. She blushes, and sometimes 
she looks vexed; then she smiles, and 
puts up her lip, and says ‘Nonsense!’ 
and ‘What folly! Rupert, I’m surprised 
at you!’ and all that sort of stuff, which 
deceives nobody, you’ll understand, not 
even her poor, simple, silly brother. But, 
Miles, I must quit you now, for I have an 
engagement to accompany a party to the 
theater, and was on my way to join them 
when we met. Cooper plays, and you 
know what a lion he is; one would not 
wish to lose a syllable of his Othello.’’ 

‘Stop, Rupert !—one word more _ be- 
fore we part. From your conversation, I 
gather that the Mertons are still here ? ”’ 

“The Mertons! Why, certainly; es- 
tablished in the land, and among its tip- 
top people. The colonel finds his health 
benefited by the climate, and he has 
managed to get some appointment which 
keeps him among us. He has Boston 
relatives, moreover, and I believe is fish- 
ing up some claims to property in that 
quarter. The Mertons here, indeed! 
What would New York be without the 
Mertons ? ”’ 

‘‘And my old friend the major is pro- 
moted, too—you called him colonel, I 
think ? ’’ 

“Did I? Ibelieve he is oftener called 
General Merton than anything else. You 
must be mistaken about his being only a 
major, Miles; everybody here calls him 
either colonel or general.’’ 

‘* Never mind; I hope it is as you say. 
Good-by, Rupert, T’ll not betray you, 
and——’’ 

- « Well—you were about to say——’’ 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


“Why, mention me to Lucy ; you know 
we were acquainted when children. Tell 
her [I wish her all happiness in her new 
position, to which I do not doubt she will 
do full credit ; and that I shall endeavor 
to see her before I sail again.” 

“You will not be at the theater this 
evening ? Cooper is well worth seeing— 
a most famous Othello !”’ 

*‘T think not. Do not forget to men- 
tion me to your sister ; and so, once more, 
adieu ! ”’ 

We parted; Rupert to go toward 
Broadway, at a great pace, and I to 
lounge along, uncertain whither to pro- 
ceed. I had sent Neb to inquire if the 
Wallingford were down, and understood 
she would leave the basin at sunrise. It 
was now my intention to go up in her; 
for, though I attached no great impor- 
tance to any of Rupert’s facts, his report 
concerning my sister’s health rendered me 
exceedingly uneasy. Insensibly I contin- 
ued my course down Maiden Lane, and 
soon found myself near the ship. I went 
on board, had an explanation with Mar- 
ble, gave some orders to Neb, and went : 
ashore again, all in the course of the next 
half hour. By a sort of secret attraction, 
I was led toward the Park, and soon found 
myself at the door of the theater. Mrs. — 
Bradfort had now been dead long enough ~ 
to put Lucy in second morning, and I — 
fancied I might get a view of her in the 
party that Rupert was to accompany. — 
Buying a ticket, I entered and mademy 
way up into the Shakespeare box. HadI — 
been better acquainted with the place, — 
with the object in view, I should have — 
gone into the pit. 

Notwithstanding the lateness of the 

‘season, it was a very full house. Coop- 
er’s, in that day, was a name that filled 
every mouth, and he seldom failed to fill 
every theater in which he appeared. With 
many first-rate qualifications for his art, 
and avery respectable conception of his 
characters, he threw everything like com-_ 
petition behind him; though there were a 
few, as there ever will be among the su- 
perlatively intellectual, who affected to 
see excellences in Fennell, and others, to 
which this great actor could not aspire. 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


The public decided against these select 
few, and, as is invariably the case when 
the appeal is made to human feelings, the 
public decided right. Puffery will force 
into notice, and sustain a false judgment, 
in such matters, for a brief space; but 
nature soon asserts her sway, and it is by 


natural decisions that such points are ever | 


the most justly determined. Whatever 
appeals to human sympathies will be an- 
swered by human sympathies. Popular- 
ity too often gains its ascendency behind 
the hypocrite’s mask in religion; it is us- 
ually a magnificent mystification in poli- 
tics; it frequently becomes the patriot’s 
stalking horse, on which he rides to power ; 
in social life, it is the reward of empty 
smiles, unmeaning bows, and _ hollow 
squeezes of the hand; but with the player, 
the poet, and all whose pursuits bring 
them directly in contact with the passions, 
the imagination, and the heart, it is the 
unerring test of merit, with certain qual- 
ifications connected with the mind and 
the higher finish of pure art. It may be 
questioned if Cooper were not the great- 
est actor of his day, in a certain range of 
_ his own characters. 

I have said that the house was full. I 
got a good place, however ; though it was 
notin the front row. Of course, I could 
only see the side boxes beneath, and not 
even quite all of them. My eyes ran 
eagerly over them, and I soon caught a 
glimpse of the fine, curling hair of Rupert. 
He sat by the side of Kmily Merton, the 
-major—I knew he was a colonel or gen- 
eral only by means of areguiar Manhat- 
tan promotion, which is so apt to make 
hundreds of counts, copper captains, and 
traveling prodigies of those who are very 
small folk at home—the major sat next, 
and, at his side, I saw a lady, whom I at 
once supposed to be Lucy. Every nerve 
in my system thrilled, aS I caught even 
this indistinct view of the dear creature. 
I could just see the upper part of her face, 
as it was occasionally turned toward the 
major; and once I caught that honest 
smile of hers, which [ knew had never in- 
tentionally deceived. 

The front seat of the box had two vacant 
places. The bench would hold six, while 


467 


it had yet only four. The audience, how- 
ever, was Still assembling, and, presently, 
a stir in Lucy’s box denoted the arrival 
of company. The whole party moved, 
and Andrew Drewett handed an elderly 
lady in, his mother, as I afterward ascer- 
tained, and took the other place himself. 
I watched the salutations that were ex- 
changed, and understood that the new 
comers had been expected. The places 
had been reserved for them, and old Mrs. 
Drewett was doubtless the chaperone ; 
though one having a brother and the 
other a father with her, the two young 
ladies had not hesitated about preceding 
the elderly lady. They had come from 
different quarters of the town, and had 
agreed to meet at the theater. Old Mrs. 
Drewett was very particular in shaking 
hands with Lucy, though I had the misery 
of seeing her son go through the same 
ceremony. Stillhe was sufficiently pointed 
in his salutations ; and, during the move- 
ments, I perceived he managed to get 
next to Lucy, leaving the major to enter- 
tain his mother. All this was natural, 
and what might have been expected ; yet 
it gave me a pang that I cannot describe. 

I sat, for half an hour, perfectly inat- 
tentive to the play, meditating on the 
nature of my real position toward Lucy. 
I recalled the days of childhood and early 
youth; the night of my first departure 
from home; my return, and the incidents 
accompanying my second departure; the 
affair of the locket, and all that I had 
supposed Lucy herself to feel, on those 
several occasions. Could it be possible I 
had so much deceived myself, and that 
the interest the dear girl had certainly 
manifested in me had been nothing but 
the fruits of her naturally warm and hon- 
est heart—her strong disposition to frank- 
ness—habit, as Rupert had so gently 
hinted in reference to ourselves ? | 

Then I could not conceal from myself 
the bitter fact that I was, now, no equal 
match for Lucy, in the eyes of the world. 
While she was poor, and I comparatively 
rich, the inequality in social station might 
have been overlooked ; it existed certain- 
ly, but was not so very marked that it 
might not, even in that day, be readily 


468 


forgotten ; but now, Lucy was an heiress, 
had much more than double my own fort- 
une—had a fortune, indeed; while I was 
barely in easy circumstances, aS persons 
of the higher classes regarded wealth. 
The whole matter seemed reversed. It 
was clear that a sailor like myself, with 
no peculiar advantages, those of a toler- 
able education expected, and who was 
necessarily so much absent, had not the 
same chances of preferring his suit as one 
of your town idlers; a nominal lawyer, 
for instance, who dropped in at his office 
for an hour or two, just after breakfast, 
and promenaded Broadway the rest of 
the time, until dinner; or a man of entire 
leisure, like Andrew Drewett, who be- 
longed to the City Library set, and had 
no other connection with business than to 
see that his rents were collected and his 
dividends paid. The more I reflected, 
the more humble I became, the less my 
chances seemed, and I determined to quit 
the theater at once. The reader will re- 
member that Iwas New York born and 
bred, a state of society in which few na- 
tives acted on the principle that ‘‘ there 
was nothing too high to be aspired to, 
nothing too low to be done.”’ I admitted 
I had superiors, and was willing to defer 
to the facts and opinions of the world as I 
knew it. 

In the lobby of the building, I experi- 
enced a pang at the idea of quitting the 
place without getting one look at the face 
of Lucy. I was in an humble mood, it is 
true, but that did not necessarily infer a 
total self-denial. J determined, therefore, 
to pass into the pit, with my box- check, 
feast my eyes by one long gaze at the 
dear creature’s ingenuous countenance, 
and carry away the impression, as a last- 
ing memorial of her whom Iso well loved, 
and whom I felt persuaded I should ever 
continue to love. After this indulgence, 
I would studiously avoid her, in order to 
release my thoughts as much as possi- 
ble from the perfect thraldom in which 
they had existed ever since I had heard 
of Mrs. Bradfort’s death. Previously to 
that time I am afraid I had counted a 
little more than was becoming on the ease 
of my own circumstances, and Lucy’s 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


comparative poverty. Not that I had 
ever supposed her to be in the least mer- 
cenary—this I knew to be utterly, totally 
false—but because the good téwn of Man- 
hattan, even in 1803, was tant soit peu 
addicted to dollars, and Lucy’s charms 
would not be likely to attract so many 
suitors, in the modest setting of a poor 
country clergyman’s means as in the 
golden frame by which they had been sur- 
rounded by Mrs. Bradfort’s testamentary 
devise, even supposing Rupert to come in 
for quite one-half. 

Thad no difficulty in finding a convenient 
place in the pit; one from which I gota 
front and near view of the whole six, as ~ 
they sat ranged side by side. Of the ~ 
major and old Mrs. Drewett it is unneces- _ 
sary to say much. .The latter looked as 
all dowager-like widows of that day used 
to appear—respectable, staid, ard richly 
attired. The good lady had come on the 
stage during the Revolution, and had a 
slightly military air—a parade in her 
graces that was not altogether unknown 
to the éléves of that school. I dare say 
she could use such words as “‘ martinets,”’ 
‘‘mohairs,’’ ‘‘ brigadiers,’? and other 
terms familiar to her class. Alas! how 
completely all these little traces of the — 
past are disappearing from our habits — 
and manners ! | 

As for the major, he appeared much ~ 
better in health, and altogether altered in 
mien. I could readily detect the influence _ 
of the world on him. He was evidently a 
so much greater man in New York than 
he had been when I found him in London, ~ 
that it is not wonderful he felt the differ-— 
ence. Between the acts, I remarked that— 
all the principal persons in the front rows — 
were desirous of exchanging nods with the 
‘‘ British officer,’’ a proof that he was cir-— 
culating freely in the best set, and had 
reached a point when ‘‘ not to know hing 
argues vourself unknown.” * 


* The miserable moral dependence of this country 
on Great Britain, forty years since, cannot well be 
brought home to the present generation. It is still 
too great, but has not a tithe of its former force. 
The writer has himself known an Italian prince, @ 
man of family and of high personal merit, pass un- 
noticed before a society that was eager to make the 
acquaintance of most of the “agents” of the Bir- 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


Emily certainly looked well and happy. 
I could see that she was delighted with 
Rupert’s flattery, and I confess I cared 
very little for his change of sentiment or 
his success. That both Major and Emily 
Merton were different persons in the midst 
of the world and in the solitudes of the 
Pacific, was as evident as it was that 
Iwas a different personage in command 
of the Crisis and in the pit of the Park 
Theater. I dare say, at that moment, 
Miss Merton had nearly forgotten that 
such a manas Miles Wallingford existed, 
though I think she sometimes recalled the 
string of magnificent pearls that were to 
ornament the neck of his wife, should he 
ever find any one to have him. 

But Lucy, dear, upright, warm-hearted, 
truth-telling, beloved Lucy ! all this time 
I forgot to speak of her. There she sat 
in maiden loveliness, her beauty still more 
developed, her eye as beaming, lustrous, 
feeling, as ever, her blush as sensitve, 
her smile as sweet, and her movements 
as natural and graceful. The simplicity 
of her half mourning, too, added to her 
beauty, which was of a character to re- 
quire no further aid from dress, than such 
as was dependent purely on taste. As I 
gazed at her, inthralled, I fancied nothing 


mingham button dealers; and this simply because 
one came from Italy and the other from England. 
The following anecdote, which is quite as true as 
any other fact in this work, furnishes a good example 
of whatis meant. Itisnowa quarter of a century 
since the writer’s first book appeared. Two or three 
months after the publication, he was walking down 
Broadway with a friend, when a man of much dis- 
tinction in the New York city circles was passing 
up onthe other sidewalk. The gentleman in ques- 
tion caught the writer’s eye, bowed, and crossed the 
street, to shake hands and inquire after the author’s 
health. The difference in years made this attention 
marked. ‘‘ You are in high favor,’ observed the 
friend, as the two walked away, ‘‘ to have pay 
you such a compliment—your book must have done 
this.”’ ‘‘ Now, mark my words—I have been puffed 
in some English magazine and —— knows it.’”? The 
two were on their way to the author’s publishers, 
and,.on entering the door, honest Charles Wiley 
put a puff on the book in question into the writer’s 
hand. What rendered the whole more striking, 
was the fact that the paragraph was as flagrant a 
puff as was ever written, and had probably been 
paid for, by the English publisher. The gentleman 
in question was a man of talentsand merit, but he 
had been born half a century too soon to enjoy en- 
tire mental independence in a country that had so 
recently been a colony. 


469 


was wanting to complete the appearance 
but my own necklace. Powerful, robust 
man as I was, with my frame hardened 
by exposure and trials, I could have sat 
down and wept, after gazing some time 
at the precious creature, under the feeling 
produced by the conviction that I was 
never to renew my intercourse with her, 
on terms of intimacy at least. 

The thought that from day to day we 
were to become more and more strangers, 
was almost too much to be borne. As it 
was, scalding tears forced themselves to 
my eyes, though I succeeded in conceal- 
ing the weakness from those around me.. 
At length the tragedy terminated, the 
curtain dropped, and the audience began 
to move about. The pit, which had just 
before been crowded, was now nearly emp- 
ty, and I was afraid of being seen. Still, 
ITcould not tear myself away, but remained 
after nine-tenths of those around me had 
gone into the lobbies. 

It was easy now to see the change 
which had come over Lucy’s position, in 
the attentions she received. All the ladies 
in the principal boxes had nods and smiles 
for her, and half the fashionable-looking 
young men in the house crowded round 
her box, or actually entered it to pay their 
compliments. I fancied Andrew Drewett 
had a self-satisfied air that seemed to Say, 
“vou are paying your homage indirect- 
ly to myself, in paying it to this young 
lady.’? As for Lucy, my jealous watch- 
fulness could not detect the smallest al- 
teration in her deportment, so far as sim- 
plicity and nature were concerned. She 
appeared in a trifling degree more wom- 
anly, perhaps, than when I saw her last, 
being now in her twentieth year, but the 
attentions she received made no visible 
change in her manners. I had become 
lost in the scene, and was standing in a 
musing attitude, my side face toward the 
box, when I heard a suppressed exclama- 
tion in Lucy’s voice. I was too near her 
to be mistaken, and it caused the blood to 
rush to my heart ina torrent. Turning, 
I saw the dear girl, with her hand ex- 
tended over the front of the box, her face 
suffused with blushes, and her eyes riveted 
on myself. I was recognized, and the sur- 


470 


prise had produced a display of all that 
old friendship, certainly, that had once 
existed between us, in the simplicity and 
truth of childhood. 

“‘Miles Wallingford !’’ she said, as I 
advanced to shake the offered hand, and 
as soon as I was near enough to permit 
her to speak without attracting too much 
attention—‘‘you have arrived, and we 
knew nothing of it !”’ 

It was plain Rupert had said athe of 
having seen me, or of an interview in the 
street. He seemed a little ashamed, and 
leaned forward to say, 

“TI declare I forgot to mention, Lucy, 
_ that I met Captain Wallingford as I was 
going to join the colonel and Miss Merton. 
Oh! we have had a long talk together, 
and it will save you a history of past 
events.”’ 

‘‘T may, nevertheless, say,’’ I rejoined, 
“‘how happy I am to see Miss Hardinge 
looking so well, and to be able to pay my 
compliments to my old passengers.”’ 

Of course I shook hands with the major 
and Emily, bowed to Drewett, was named 
to his mother, and was invited to enter 
the box, as it was not quite in rule to be 
conversing between the pit and the front 
rows. I forgot my prudent resolutions, 
and was behind Lucy in three minutes. 
Andrew Drewett had the civility to offer 
me his place, though it was with an air 
that said plain enough, “‘what do J care 
for him ? he is a ship-master, and Iam a 
man of fashion and fortune, and can re- 
sume my seat at any. moment, while the 
poor fellow can only catch his chances, as 
he occasionally comes into port.’ At 
least, | fancied his manner said something 
like this. 

“Thank you, Mr. Drewett,’’ said Lucy, 
in her sweetest manner. ‘“ Mr. Walling- 
ford and I are very, very old friends ; you 
know he is Grace’s brother, and you have 
been at Clawbonny ’’—Drewett bowed, 
civilly enough—‘‘ and I have a thousand 
things to say to him. So, Miles, take this 
seat, and let me hear all about your 
voyage.”’ 

As half the audience went away as soon 
as the tragedy ended, the second seat of 
the box was vacated, and the other gen- 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


W 7 


,*- (a I Ca 
2, u Beth! ae 


tlemen getting on it, to stretch their — 
limbs, I had abundance of room to sit at 
Lucy’s side, half facing her, at the same 
time. As she insisted on hearing my 
story, before we proceeded to anything © 
else, I was obliged to gratify her. 

‘““By the way, Major Merton,’’ I cried, 
as the tale was closed, ‘‘an old friend of 
yours, Moses Marble by name, has come 
to life again, and is at this moment in 
New York.”’ 

I then related the manner in which I 
had fallen in with my old mate. This was 
a most unfortunate self-interruption for 
me, giving the major a fair opportunity — 
for cutting into the conversation. The _ 
orchestra, moreover, giving notice that 
the curtain would soon rise for the after- — 
piece, the old gentleman soon got me into 
the lobby to hear the particulars. I was — 
supremely vexed, and I thought Lucy ap- — 
peared sorry ; but there was no help for 
it, and then we could not converse while 
the piece was going on. 

‘‘T suppose you care little for this silly 
farce,’’ observed the major, looking in at © 
one of the windows, after I had gone over 
Marble’s affair, in detail. ‘If not, we © 
will continue our walk, and wait for the — 
ladies to come out. Drewett and Har- 
dinge will take good care of them.”’ 

I assented, and we continued to walk 
the lobby till the end of the act. Major — 
Merton was always gentleman-like; and — 
he even behaved to me as if he remem- — 
bered the many obligations he was under. — 
He now communicated several little facts 
connected with his own circumstances, 
alluding to the probability of his remain- — 
ing in America a few years. Our chat 
continued some time, my looks frequently 
turning toward the door of the box, when 
my companion suddenly observed : r 

“Your old acquaintance, the Hardinges, 
have had a lucky windfall—one, I faney, 
they hardly expected a few years since.” 

‘Probably not! though the estate has 
fallen into excellent hands,’’ I answered. 
“‘T am surprised, however, that Mrs 
Bradfort did not leave the property to 
the old gentleman, as it once belonged 
to their common grandfather, and he 
properly stood next in succession.” 


u 


_reversionary interest. 


«‘T fancy she thought the good parson 
would not know what to do with it. Now, 
Rupert Hardinge is clever, and spirited, 
and in a way to make a figure in the 
world; and it is probably in better hands 
than if it had been left first to the old 
gentleman.”’ 

«‘The old gentleman has been a faithful 
steward to me, and I doubt not would 
have proved equally so to his own chil- 
dren. But, does Rupert get all Mrs. 
Bradfort’s property ?”’ 

‘‘T believe not; there is some sort of a 
trust, I have heard him say; and | rather 
fancy that his sister has some direct, or 
Perhaps she is 
flamed as the heir, if he die without issue. 
There was a silly story, that Mrs. Brad- 
fort had left everything to Lucy; but I 
have it from the best authority that that 
is not true.”’ The idea of Rupert Har- 
dinge being the “‘ best authority ” for any- 
thing; a fellow who never knew what 
unadulterated truth was, from the time 
he was in petticoats, or could talk! ‘‘As 
I know there is a trust, though one of no 
great moment, I presume Lucy has some 
contingent interest, subject, most -prob- 
ably, to her marrying with her brother’s 
approbation, or some such provision. The 
old lady was sagacious, and no doubt did 
all that was necessary.”’ 

It is wonderful how people daily deceive 
themselves on the subject of property; 
those who care the most about it appear- 
ing to make the greatest blunders. Inthe 
way of bequests, in particular, the lies that 
are told are marvelous. It is now many 
years since I learned to take no heed of 
rumors on such subjects, and least of all, 
rumors that come from the class of the 
money-gripers. Such people refer every- 
thing to dollars, and seldom converse a 
minute without using the word. Here, 
however, was Major Merton evidently 
Rupert’s dupe; though with what prob- 
able consequences it was not in my power 
to foresee. It was clearly not my busi- 
ness to undeceive him; and the conversa- 
tion getting to be embarrassing, I was not 
sorry to hear the movement which an- 
nounced the end of the act. At the box 


door, to my great regret, we met Mrs. 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


471 


Drewett retiring, the ladies finding the 
farce dull, and not worth the time lost in 
listening to it. Rupert gave me an un- 
easy glance, and he even dragged me 
aside to whisper, “‘ Miles, what I told you 
this evening, is strictly a family secret, 
and was intrusted to a friend.”’ 

‘‘Thave nothing todo with your private 
concerns, Rupert,’’ I answered, “ only, let 
me expect you to act honorably, especially 
when women are concerned.”’ 

‘Everything will come right, depend 
on it; the truth will set everything right, 
and all will come out just as I predicted.” 

I saw Lucy looking anxiously around, 
while Drewett had gone to order the car- 
riages to advance, and I hoped it might 
be for me. In a moment I was by her 
side; at the next, Mr. Andrew Drewett 
offered his arm, saying, her carriage 
‘“stopped the way.’’ We moved into the 
outer lobby in a body, and then it was 
found that. Mrs. Drewett’s carriage was 
up first, while Lucy’s was in the rear. 
Yes, Lucy’s carriage !—the dear girl hav- 
ing come into immediate possession of her 
relative’s houses, furniture, horses, car- 
riages, and everything else, without re- 
serve, just as they had been left behind 
by the last incumbent, when she departed 
from the scene of life to lie down in the 
grave. Mrs. Bradfort’s arms were still 
on the chariot, I observed, its owner re- 
fusing all Rupert’s solicitations to sup- 
plant them by those of Hardinge. The 
latter took his revenge, however, by tell- 
ing everybody how generous he was in 
keeping a carriage for his sister. 

The major handed Mrs. Drewett in, and 
her son was compelled to say good-night, 
to see his mother home. This gave me 
one blessed minute with Lucy, by herself. 
She spoke of Grace; said they had now 
been separated months, longer than they 
ever had been before in their lives, and 
that all her own persuasions could not in- 
duce my sister to rejoin her in town, while 
her own wish to visit Clawbonny had been 
constantly disappointed, Rupert insisting 
that her presence was necessary for so 
many arrangements about business. 

‘Grace is not as humble as I was in 
old times, Miles,’’ said the dear girl, look- 


472 WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


ing me in the face half sadly, half re- 
proachfully, the light of the lamp falling 
full on her tearful, ‘tender eyes, ‘‘and I 
hope you are not about to imitate her bad 
example. She wishes us to know she has 
Clawbonny for a home, but I never hesi- 
tated to admit how poor we were, while 
you alone were rich.”’ 

““God bless you, Lucy!”’ I whispered, 
Squeezing her hand with fervor. ‘“‘It can- 
not be that—have you heard anything of 
Grace’s health ? ”’ 

“Oh! she is well, I know—Rupert tells 
me that, and her letters are cheerful and 
kind as ever, without a word of com- 
plaint. But I must see her soon. Grace 
Wallingford and Lucy Hardinge were not 
born to live asunder. Here is the car- 
riage; I shall see you in the morning, 
Miles, at breakfast, say eight o’clock pre- 
cisely.”’ 

‘* Tt will be impossible. I sail for Claw- 
bonny with the first of the flood, and that 
will make at four. I shall sleep in the 
sloop.”’ 

Major Merton put Lucy into the car- 
riage, the good nights were passed, and 
I was left standing on the lowest step of 
the building, gazing after the carriage, 
Rupert walking swiftly away. 


early start, we did not enter the creek — 
until about eight in the morning of the 
second day. 

No sooner was the vessel near enough, 
than my foot was on the wharf, and I 
began to ascend the hill. From the sum- 
mit of the latter I saw my late guardian 
hurrying along the road, it afterward — 
appearing that a stray paper from town 
had announced the arrival of the Dawn, 
and that I was expected to come up in 
the sloop. Iwas received with extended 
hands, was kissed just as if I had still 
been a boy, and heard the guileless old 
man murmuring his blessings on me, and 
a prayer of thankfulness. Nothing ever 
changed good Mr. Hardinge, who, now 
that he could command the whole income _ 
of his daughter, was just as well satisfied 
to live on the three or four hundreds he 
got from his glebe and his parish as he 
ever had been in his life. 

‘* Welcome back, my dear boy, welcome 
back!’? added Mr. Hardinge, his voice 
and manner still retaining their fervor. 
““T said you must—you would be on A 
board, as soon as they reported the sloop — 
in sight, for I judged your heart by my 
own. Ah! Miles, will the time ever come 
when Clawbonny will be good enough for __ 
you? You have already as much money — : 
aS you can want, and more will scarce 
contribute to your happiness.”’ i 

‘Speaking of money, my dear sir,?? I 
answered, ‘‘ while I have to regret the — 
loss of your respectable kinswoman, I may _ 
be permitted to congratulate you on the 
accession to an old family property. Iun- — 
derstand you inherit, in your family, all of — 
Mrs. Bradfort’s estate—one valuable in 
amount, and highly acceptable no doubt, 
as having belonged to your ancestors.”? _ 

‘* No doubt—no doubt—it is just as you © 
say; and I hope these unexpected riches” 
will leave us as devout servants of God as” 
I humbly trust they found us. The prop- 
erty, however, is not mine, but Lucy’s; I 
need not have any reserve with you, 
though Rupert has hinted it might be 
prudent not to let the precise state of 
the case be known, since it might bring” 
a Swarm of interested fortune - hunters 
about the dear girl, and has proposed 


—____. 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 


‘Hear me a little; 
For I have only been silent so long, 
And given way unto this course of fortune, 
By noting of the lady: I have mark’d 
A thousand blushing apparitions start 
Into her face; a thousand.innocent shames 
In angel whiteness bear away those blushes.’ 
—SHAKESPEARE. 


I REACHED, the Wallingford before 
eleven, where I found Neb in attend- 
ance with my trunks and other effects. 
Being now on board my own craft, I gave 
orders to profit by a favorable turn in 
the wind, and to get under way at once 
instead of waiting for the flood. "When I 
left the deck the sloop was above the 
State Prison, a point toward which the 
town itself had made considerable prog- 
ress since the time I first introduced it 
to the reader. Notwithstanding this 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


that we rather favor the notion the estate 
is to be divided among us. This I cannot 
do directly, you will perceive, as it would 
be deception ; but one may be silent. With 
you, however, it is a different matter, and 
so I tell you the truth at once. I am 
made executor, and act, of course; and 
this makes me the more glad to see you, 
for I find so much business with pounds, 
shillings, and pence, draws my mind off 
from the duties of my holy office, and 
that I am in danger of becoming selfish 
and mercenary. A selfish priest, Miles, 
is as odious a thing as a mercenary 
woman !”’ 

‘Little danger of your ever becoming 
anything so worldly, my dear sir. But 
Grace—you have not mentioned my be- 
loved sister ?’’ 

Isaw Mr. Hardinge’s countenance sud- 
denly change. The expression of joy 
instantly deserted it, and it wore an air 
of uncertainty and sadness. A less ob- 
servant man than the good divine, in all 
the ordinary concerns of life, did not exist; 
but it was apparent that he now saw 
something to trouble him. 

“Yes, Grace,’’ he answered, doubting- 
ly; ‘“‘the dear girl is here, and all alone, 
and not as blithe and amusing as formerly. 
Iam glad of your return on her account, 
too, Miles. She is not well, I fear; Il 
would have sent fora physician last week, 
or the moment I saw her; but she insists 
on it, there is no need of one. She is 
frightfully beautiful, Miles! You know 
how it is with Grace—her countenance 
always seemed more fitted for heaven 
than earth; and now it always reminds 
me of a seraph’s that was grieving over 
the sins of men !”’ 

“T fear, sir, that Rupert’s account, 
then, is true, and that Grace is seriously 
niy”’ 

<©T hope not, boy—I fervently pray not ! 
She is not as usual—that is true; but her 
mind, her thoughts, all her inclinations, 
and, if I may so express it, her energies, 
seem turned to heaven. There has 
been an awakening in the spirit of Grace 
that is truly wonderful. Shereads devout 
books, meditates, and, I make no doubt, 
prays, from morn till night. This is the 


473 


secret of her withdrawal from the world, 
and her refusing of all Lucy’s invitations. 
You know how the girls love each other— 
but Grace declines going to Lucy, though: 
she knows that Lucy cannot come to 
her.’’ 

I now understood it all. A weight like 
that of a mountain fell upon my heart, 
and I walked on some distance without 
speaking. 'To me, the words of my excel- 
lent guardian sounded like the knell of a 
sister [ almost worshiped. 

«“And Grace—does she expect me 
now ?’”? I at length ventured to say, 
though the words were uttered in tones so 
tremulous, that even the usually unobser- 
vant divine perceived the change. 

‘She does, and delighted she was to 
hear it. The only thing of a worldly 
nature that I have heard her express of 
late, was some anxious, sisterly wish for 
your speedy return. Grace loves you, 
Miles, next to her God!”’ 

Oh! how I wished this were true, but, 
alas! alas! I knew it was far other- 
wise ! 

‘‘T see you are disturbed, my dear boy, 
on account of what I have said,’’ resumed 
Mr. Hardinge; ‘‘ probably from serious 
apprehensions about your sister’s health. 
She is not well, Lallow; but it is the effect 
of mental ailments. The precious creature 
has had too vivid views of her own sinful 
nature, and has suffered deeply, I fear. IL 
trust my conversation and prayers have 
not been without their effect, through the 
divine aid, and that she is now more cheer- 
ful—nay, she has assured me within half 
an hour, if it turned out that you were in 
the sloop, she should be happy !”’ 

For my life, I could not have conversed 
longer on the painful subject; I made no 
reply. As we had still a considerable dis- 
tance to walk, I was glad to turn the con- 
versation to other subjects, lest I should 
become unmanned, and sit down to weep 
in the middle of the road. ‘ 

‘‘Does Lucy intend to visit Clawbonny 
this summer ?”’ I asked, though it seemed 
strange to me to suppose that the farm 
was not actually Lucy’s home. I am 
afraid I felt a jealous dislike to the idea 
that the dear creature should have houses 


474 WORKS 
and lands of her own ; or any that were 
not to be derived through me. 

‘“‘T hope so,’’? answered her father, 
*“‘though her new duties do not leave 
Lucy as much her own mistress as I could 
wish. You saw her and her brother, 
Miles, I take it for granted? ”’ 

“‘T met Rupert in the street, sir, and 
had a short interview with the Mertons 
and Lucy at the theater. Young Mr. 
and old Mrs. Drewett were of the party.”’ 

The good divine turned short round to 
me, and looked as conscious and know- 
ing as one of his singleness of mind and 
simplicity of habits could look. Had a 
knife penetrated my flesh, I could not 
have winced more than I did; still I af- 
fected a manner that was very foreign 
to my feelings. 

“« What do you think of this young Mr. 
Drewett, boy ?”’ asked Mr. Hardinge, 
with an air of confidential interest and 
an earnestness of manner that, with him, 
was inseparable from all that concerned 
his daughter. ‘‘Do you approve?’”’ 

““T believe I understand you, sir; you 
mean me to infer that Mr. Drewett is a 
suitor for Miss Hardinge’s hand.”’ 

“‘It would be improper to say this much 
even to you, Miles, did not Drewett take 
good care, himself, to let everybody know 
it.”’ 

‘* Possibly with a view to keep off other 
pretenders,’’ I rejoined, with a bitterness 
I could not control. 

Now Mr. Hardinge was one of the last 
men in the world to suspect evil. He 
looked surprised, therefore, at my remark, 
and I was probably not much out of the 
way in fancying that he looked displeased. 

‘‘That is not right, my dear boy,’’ he 
said gravely. ‘‘ We should try to think 
the best, and not the worst, of our fel- 
low-creatures.’’? Excellent old man, how 
faithfully didst thou practice on thy pre- 
cept! ‘‘It isawise rule, and a safe one; 
‘more particularly in connection with our 
own weaknesses. Then it is but natural 
that Drewett should wish to secure Lucy ; 
_and if he adopt no means less manly than 
frank avowal of his own attachment, 
- surely there is no ground of complaint.’’ 
I was rebuked; and, what is more, I 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


felt that the rebuke was merited. As 
some atonement for my error, I hastened 
to add : 

‘‘ Very truly, sir; I admit the unfair- 
ness of my remark, and can only atone 
for it by adding, it is quite apparent Mr. 
Drewett is not influenced by interested 
motives, since he certainly was attentive — 
to Miss Hardinge previously to Mrs. 
Bradfort’s death, and when he could not 
possibly have anticipated the nature of 
her will.’’ 

“Quite true, Miles, and very properly 
and justly remarked. Now, to you, who 
have known Lucy from childhood, and 
who regard her much as Rupert does, it — 
may not seem so very natural that a — 
young man can love her warmly and 
strongly, for herself, alone; such is apt 
to be the effect of brotherly feeling; but 
I can asure you, Lucy is really a charm- 
ing, as we all know, she is a most excel- 
lent girl ! ’’ 

‘To whom are you speaking thus, sir? 
I can assure you, nothing is easier than 
for me to conceive how possible it is for 
any man to love your daughter. As re- 
spects Grace, I confess there.is a differ- 
ence ; for I affirm she has always seemed 
to me too saintly, too much allied to — 
heaven already, to be subject, herself, to 
the passions of earth.’’ 

“That is what I have just been telling 
you, and we must endeavor to overcome ~ 
and humanize—if I may so express it— 
Grace’s propensity. There is nothing — 
more dangerous to a healthful frame of 
mind, in a religious point of view, Miles, — 
than excitement—it is disease, and not — 
faith, nor charity, nor hope, nor humility, : 
nor anything that is commanded, but our — 
native weaknesses taking a wrong direc- 
tion, under a physical impulse, rather than — 
the fruits of repentance, and the succor 
afforded by the Spirit of God. We no- 
where read of any excitement, and howl-— 
ings, and wailings among the Apostles.” 

How could I enlighten the good old man 
on the subject of my sister’s malady? 
That Grace, with her well-tempered mind, 
was the victim of religious exaggeration, 
I did not for a moment believe; but that 
she had had her heart blighted, her affec- 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. LATO 


tions withered, her hopes deceived, by 
Rupert’s levity and interestedness, his 
worldly-mindedness and vanity, I could 
foresee and was prepared tolearn; though 
these were facts not to be communicated 
to the father of the offender. I made no 
answer, but managed to turn the conver- 
sation toward the farm, and those inter- 
ests about which I could affect an interest 
that I was very far from feeling just at 
that moment. This induced the divine to 
inquire into the result of my late voyage, 
and enabled me to collect sufficient forti- 
tude to meet Grace with the semblance of 
firmness at least. 

Mr. Hardinge made a_ preconcerted 
signal, as soon as he came in view of the 
house, that apprised its inmates of my 
arrival; and we knew, while still half a 
mile from the buildings, that the news 
had produced a great commotion. All 
the blacks met us on the little lawn—for 
the girls, since reaching womanhood, had 
made this change in the old door-yard— 
and I had to go through the process of 


shaking hands with every one of them. 


This was done amid hearty bursts of 
laughter, the mode in which the negroes 
of that day almost always betrayed 
their joy, and many a “ welcome home, 
Masser Mile !’’ and “‘ where Neb got to 
dis time, Masser Mile?’’ was asked by 
more than one; and great was the sat- 
isfaction when I told his generation and 
race that the faithful fellow would be up 
with the cart that was to convey my 
luggage. But Grace awaited me. I 
broke through the throng, and entered 
the house. In the door I was met by 
Chloe, a girl of about my own sister’s 
age, and a sort of cousin of Neb’s by 
the half-blood, who had been preferred 
of late years to functions somewhat re- 
sembling those of a lady’s maid. I say 
of the half-blood, for, to own the truth, 
few of the New York blacks in that day 
could have taken from their brothers 
and sisters, under the old dzctum of the 
common law, which declared that none 
but heirs of the whole blood should in- 
herit. Chloe met me in the door-way, 
and greeted me with one of her sweetest 
smiles, as she courtesied, and really 


looked as pleased as all my slaves did, 
at seeing their young master again. How 
they touched my heart, at times, by their 
manner of talking about ‘‘ole Masser, 
and ole Missus,” always subjects of re- 
egret among negroes who had been well 
treated by them. Metaphysicians may 
reason as subtly as they can about the 
races and colors, and on the aptitude of 
the black to acquire; but no one can ever 
persuade me out of the belief of their ex- 
traordinary aptitude to love. As between 
themselves and their masters, their own 
children and those of the race to which 
they were subject, I have often seen in- 
stances which have partaken of the at- 
tachment of the dog to the human family ; 
and cases in which the children of their 
masters have been perferred to those of 
their own flesh and blood were of constant 
occurrence. 

‘‘T hope you been werry well, sah, 
Masser Mile,’’ said Chloe, who had some 
extra refinement, as the growth of her 
position. 

‘Perfectly, my good girl, and | am 
glad to see you looking so well—you 
really are growing handsome, Chloe.” 

‘Oh! Masser Mile— you so droll !— 
now you stay home, sah, long time?”’ 

‘¢T am afraid not, Chloe, but one never 
knows. Where shall I find my sister?” 

‘‘Miss Grace tell me come here, Mas- 
ser Mile, and say she wish to see you in 
de family room. She wait dere, now, 
some time.”’ 

«Thank you, Chloe; and do you see 
that no one interrupts us. I have not 
seen my sister for near a year.” 

‘‘Sartain, sah; all as you say.’? Then 
the girl, whose face shone like a black 
bottle that had just been dipped in water, 
showed her brilliant teeth, from ear to 
ear, laughed outright, looked foolish, after 
which she looked earnest, when the se- 
eret burst out of her heart, in the 
melodious voice of a young negress, that 
did not know whether to laugh or cry: 
‘* Where Neb, Masser Mile? what he do 
now, de fel-ler ? ”’ 

‘He will kiss you in ten minutes, 
Chloe; so put the best face on the matter 
you are able.” 


476 WORKS 


‘Dat he won’t—de _ sauce-box—Miss 
Grace teach me better than dat.”’ 

I waited to hear no more, but proceeded 
toward the triangular little room, with 
steps so hurried and yet so nervous, that 
I do not rememcer ever before to have 
laid my hand on a lock in a manner so 
tremulous—I found myself obliged to 
pause, ere I could muster resolution to 
open the door, a hope coming over me 
that the impatience of Grace would save 
me the trouble, and that I should find her 
in my arms before I should be called on to 
exercise any more fortitude. All was still 
as death, however, within the room, and 
I opened the door, as if I expected to find 
one of the bodies I had formerly seen in 
its coffin, in this last abiding place above 
ground, of one dead. My sister was on 
the causeuse, literally unable to rise from 
debility and agitation. I shall not at- 
tempt to describe the shock her appear- 
ance gave me. I was prepared for a 
change, but not one that placed her, as 
my heart instantly announced, so near the 
grave! 

Grace extended both arms, and I threw 
myself at her side, drew her within my 
embrace, and folded her to my heart, with 
the tenderness with which one would have 
embraced an infant. In this situation we 
both wept violently, and I am not 
ashamed to say that I sobbed like a child. 
I dare say five minutes passed in this 
way, without either of us speaking a 
word. 

“A merciful and all-gracious God be 
praised! You are restored to me in time, 
Miles !’? murmured my sister, at length. 
“1 was afraid it might be too late.’’ 

“Grace! Grace! what means this, 
love? My precious, my only, my most 
dearly beloved sister, why do I find you 
thus ? ”’ 

“Is it necessary to speak, Miles ?— can- 
not you see ?—do you not see, and under- 
stand it all ?”’ 

The fervent pressure I gave my sister 
announced how plainly 1 comprehended 
the whole history. That Grace could ever 
love, and forget, I did not believe; but 
that her tenderness for Rupert—one whom 
I knew for so frivolous and selfish a 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


| State, I had not indeed foreseen as a thing 


being, should reduce her to this terrible — 


possible. Little did I then understand — 
how confidingly a woman loves, and how ~ 
apt she is to endow the being of her choice — 
with all the qualities she could wish him — 
to possess. In the anguish of my soul I 
muttered, loud enough to be heard, “‘ the 
heartless villain ! ”’ 

Grace instantly rose from my arms. 
At that moment she looked more like a — 
creature of heaven, than one that was 
still connected with this wicked world. 
Her beauty could scarcely be called im- 
paired, though I dreaded that she would 
be snatched away from mein the course 
of the interview ; so frail and weak did it 
appear was her hold of life. In some re- 
spects I never saw her more lovely than 
she seemed on this very occasion. ‘This 
was when the hectic of disease imparted — 
to the sweetest and most saint-like eyes 
that were ever set in the human counte- 
nance a species of holy illumination, Her 
countenance, now, was pale and color- 
less, however, and her look sorrowful and 
filled with reproach. t 

‘‘Brother,’’ she said, solemnly, “this — 
must not be. It is not what God com- — 
mands—it is not what I expected from 4 

; 


ne ee 


ye one 


eh 5 


you—what I have a right to expect from 
one whom I am assured loves me, though 
none other of earth can be said to do so.” _ 

‘It is not easy, my sister, for a man to 
forget or forgive the wretch who has so 
long misled you—misled us all, and then 3 
turned to another, under the impulse ms 
mere vanity.”’ 

‘‘Miles, my kind and manly ote j 
listen to me,’’? Grace rejoined, fervently 
pressing one of my hands in both of hers, — 
and scarcely able to command herself, 
through alarm. ‘All thoughts of anger, 
of resentment, of pride even, must be for- _ 
gotten. You owe it to my sex, to the 
dreadful imputations that might other- 
wise rest on my name—had I anything to 
reproach myself with as a woman. I 
could submit to any punishment; but 
surely, surely, it is not a sin so unpardon- 
able to be unable to command the affec- 
tions, that I deserve to have my name, 
after I shall be dead, mixed up with ru: 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


mors connected with such a quarrel. You 
have lived as brothers, too—then, there is 
good, excellent, truthful, pious Mr. Har- 
dinge, who is yet my guardian, you know; 
and Lucy, dear, true-hearted, faithful 
Lucy ; | 

«Why is not dear, true-hearted, faith- 
ful Lucy, here, watching over you, Grace, 
at this very moment?’’? I demanded, 
huskily. 

‘«*She knows nothing of my situation— 
it is a secret, aS well as its cause, from all 
but God, myself and you. Ah! I knew 
it would be impossible to deceive your 
love, Miles! which has ever been to me 
all that a sister could desire.’’ 

«And Lucy! how has her affection 
been deceived? Has she, too, eyes only 
for those she has recently learned to ad- 
mire ? ”’ 

«You do her injustice, brother. Lucy 
has not seen me since the great change 
that I can myself see has come over me. 
Another time I will tell you all. At pres- 
ent I can only say, that as soon as I had 
certain explanations with Rupert, I left 
town, and have studiously concealed from 
dear Lucy the state of my declining health. 
I write to her weekly, and get answers ; 
everything passing between us as cheer- 
fully, and; apparently, as happily as ever. 
No, do not blame Lucy; who, I am cer- 
tain, would quit everything and everybody 
to come to me, had she the smallest notion 
of the truth. On the contrary, I believe 
she thinks I would rather not have her at 
Clawbonny, just at this moment, much as 
she knows I love her; for, one of Lucy’s 
observation and opportunities cannot but 
suspect the truth. . Let me lie on your 
breast, brother; it wearies me to talk so 
much.”’ 

I sat holding this beloved sister in my 
arms fully an hour, neither of us speaking. 
I was afraid of injuring her, by further 
excitement, and she was glad to take 
refuge in silence, from the feelings of 


~ maiden shame that could not be other- 


wise than mingled with such a dialogue. 
As my cheek leaned on her silken hair, I 
could see large tears rolling down the pal- 
lid cheeks ; but the occasional pressure of 
the hands, told me how much she was 


477 


gladdened by my presence. After some 
ten or fifteen minutes, the exhausted girl 
dropped into feverish and disturbed slum- 
bers, that I would have remained motion- 
less throughout the night to maintain. I 
am persuaded it was quite an hour before 
this scene terminated. Grace then arose 
and said, with one of her most angelic 
smiles : 

‘<*-You see how it is with me, Miles— 
feeble as an infant, and almost as trouble- 
some. You must bear with me, for you 
will be my nurse. One promise I must 
have, dearest, before we leave this room.”’ 

‘It is yours, my sister, let it be what it 
may ; I can now refuse you nothing,” said 
I, melted to feminine tenderness. ‘‘ And 
yet, Grace, since you exact a promise, tf 
have a mind to attach a condition.”’ 

‘«¢ What condition, Miles, can you attach, 
that I will refuse ? I consent to everything, 
without even knowing your wishes.”’ 

‘«©Then I promise not to call Rupert to 
an account for his conduct—not to ques- 
tion him—nay, even not to reproach him,”’’ 
I rejoined, enlarging my pledges, as I saw 
by Grace’s eyes that she exacted still 
more. 

The last promise, however, appeared 
fully to satisfy her. She kissed my hand, 
and I felt hot tears falling on it. 

‘“Now name your conditions, dearest 
brother,’? she said, after a little time 
taken to recover herself; ‘‘name them, 
and see how gladly I shall accept them 
all.’’ . 

‘«T have but one—it is this. _I must 
take the complete direction of the care of 
you—must have power to send for what 
physician I please, what friends I please, 
what advice or regimen I please !”’ 

“Oh! Miles, you could not—cannot 
think of sending for him ?”’ 

‘‘Certainly not; his presence would 
drive me from the house. With that one 
exception, then, my condition is allowed ?”’ 

Grace made a sign of assent, and sunk 
on my bosom again, nearly exhausted 
with the scene through which she had 
just gone. I perceived it would not do 
to dwell any longer on the subject we had 
been alluding to, rather than discussing ; 
and for another hour did I sit sustaining 


~ 


478 WORKS 
that beloved form, declining to speak, and 
commanding’ silence on her part. At the 
end of this second little sleep Grace was 
more refreshed than she had been after 
her first troubled repose, and she declared 
herself able to walk to her room, where 
she wished to lie on her own bed until the 
hour of dinner. I summoned Chloe, and, 
together, we led the invalid to her cham- 
ber. As we threaded the long passages, 
my sister’s head rested on my bosom, her 
eyes were turned affectionately upward to 
my face, and several times I felt the gen- 
tle pressure of her emaciated hands, given 
in the fervor of devoted sisterly love. 

I needed an hour to compose myself af- 
ter this interview. In.the privacy of my 
own room I wept like a child over the 
wreck of a being I had left so beautiful 
and perfect, though even then the canker 
of doubt had begun to take root. I had 
yet her expianations to hear, and resolved 
to command myself so far as to receive 
them in a manner not to increase the pain 
Grace must feel in making them. As soon 
as sufficiently calm, I sat down to write 
letters. One was to Marble. I desired 
him to let the second mate see the ship 
discharged, and to come up to me by the 
return of the sloop. I wished to see him 
in person, as I did not think I could be 
able to go out in the vessel on her next 
voyage, and | intended him to sail in her 
as master. It was necessary we should 
consult together personally. I did not 
conceal the reason of this determination, 
though ,I said nothing of the cause of my 
sister’s state. Marble had a list of physi- 
cians given him, and he was to bring up 
with him the one he could obtain, com- 
mencing with the first named and follow- 
ing in the order given. I had earned ten 
thousand dollars, net, by the labor of the 
past year, and I determined every dollar 
of it should be devoted to obtaining the 
best advice the country then afforded. I 
had sent for such men as Hosack, Post, 
Bayley, M’Knight, More, etc., and even 
thought of procuring Rush from ‘Philadel- 
phia, but was deterred from making the 
attempt by the distance and the horgiies 
nature of the emergency. 

In 1803 Philadelphia was about three 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


days’ journey from Clawbonny, even al- 
lowing for a favorable time on the river, 
with a moderately unfavorable, five or 
six, whereas the distance can now be 
passed, including the chances of méeting 
the departures and arrivals of the differ- 
ent lines, in from twelve to fifteen hours. 
Such is one of the prodigious effects of an 
improved civilization; and in all that 
relates to motion, and which falls short 
of luxury or great personal comfort, this 
country takes a high place in the scale — 
of nations. That it is as much in arrears — 
in other great essentials, however, par- 
ticularly in what relates to tavern com- — 
forts, no man who is familiar with the 
better civilization of Hurope can deny. 
It is a singular fact that we have gone ~ 
backward in this last particular within ~ 
the present century, and all owing to the 
gregarious habits of the population. But, — 
to return to my painful theme, from which, 
even at this distance of time, I am only © 
too ready to escape. 4 

I was on the point of writing to Teusd | 
but hesitated. I hardly knew whether to 
summon her to Clawbonny or not. That — 
she would come, and that instantly, the © 
moment she was apprised of Grace’s con- — 
dition, I did not in the least doubt. I was 
not so mad as to do her character injus- _ 
tice, because I had my doubts about being 
loved as I had once hoped to be. That — 
Lucy was attached to me, in one sense, I _ 
did not in the least doubt; this her late 
reception of me sufficiently proved, andI 
could not question her continued affection — 
for Grace after all the latter had just told — 
me. Even did Lucy prefer Andrew Drew- — 
ett, it was no proof she was not just as 
kind-hearted, as ready to be of service, 
and as true in her friendship, as she ever 
had been. Still, she was Rupert’s sister, 
must have penetration enough to under- 
stand the cause of Grace’s illness, and 
might not enter as fully into her wrongs 
as one could wish in a person that was to 
watch the sick pillow. I resolved to learn 
more that day, before this portion of my 
duty was discharged. 

Neb was summoned and sent to the 
wharf with an order to get the Walling- 
ford ready to sail for town at the first 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


favorable moment. The sloop was merely 
to be in ballast, and was to return to 
Clawbonny with no unnecessary delay. 
There was an eminent but retired phy- 
sician of the name of Bard, who had a 
country residence on the other bank of 
the Hudson, and within a few hours’ sail 
from Clawbonny. I knew his character, 
though I was not acquainted with him 
personally. Few of us of the right bank, 
indeed, belonged to the circles of the left 
in that day; the increasing wealth and 
population of the country have since 
brought the western side into more notice. 
Iwrote also to Dr. Bard, inclosing a check 
for a suitable fee, made a strong appeal 
to his feelings—which would have been 
quite sufficient with such a man—and 
ordered Neb to go out in the Grace and 
Lucy immediately to deliver the message. 
Just as this arrangement was completed, 
Chloe came to summon me to my sister’s 
‘room. 

I found Grace still lying on her bed, 
but stronger, and materially refreshed. 
For a moment I began to think my fears 
had exaggerated the danger, and that I 
was not to lose my sister. A few min- 
utes of close observation, however, con- 
vinced me that the first impression was 
the true one. I am not skilled in the 
theories of the science, if there be any 
great science about it, and can hardly 
explain even now the true physical con- 
dition of Grace. She had pent up her suf- 
ferings in her own bosom for six cruel 
months in the solitude of a country- 
house, living most of the time entirely 
alone, and this, they tell me, is what few 
even of the most robust frames can do 
with impunity. Frail as she had ever 
seemed, her lungs were sound, and she 
spoke easily and with almost all her 
original force, so that her wasting away 
was not the consequence of anything 
pulmonary. I rather think the physi- 
cal effects were to be traced to the un- 
healthy action of the fluids, which were 
deranged through the stomach and 
spleen. The insensible perspiration was 
affected also, I believe, the pores of the 
skin failing to do their duty. I dare say 
there is not a graduate of the thousand 


479 


and one medical colleges of the country 
who is not prepared to laugh at this 
theory, while unable, quite likely, to pro- 
duce a better—so much easier is it to pull 
down than to build up; but my object is 
merely to give the reader a general idea 
of my poor sister’s situation. 

In outward appearance, her counte- 
nance denoted that expression which the 
French so well describe by the customary 
term of ‘‘ fatigue,” rather than any other 
positive indication of disease — Grace’s 
frame was so delicate by nature, that a 
little falling away was not as perceptible 
in her as it would have been in most per- 
sons, though her beautiful little hands 
wanted that fullness which had rendered 
their taper fingers and roseate tint for- 
merly so very faultless. There must have 
been a good deal of fever, as her color 
was often higher than was formerly usual. 
It was this circumstance that continued 
to render her beauty unearthly, without 
its being accompanied by the emaciation 
so common in the latter stages of pul- 
monary disease, though its tendency was 
strongly to undermine her strength. 

Grace, without rising from her pillow, 
now asked me for an outline of my late 
voyage. She heard me, | make no doubt, 
with real interest, for all that concerned 
me in a measure concerned her. Her 
smile was sweetness itself, as she list- 
ened to my successes; and the interest 
she manifested in Marble, with whose.pre- 
vious history she was well acquainted, 
was not less than I had felt myself, in 
hearing his own account of his adventures. 
All this delighted me, as it went to prove 
that I had beguiled the sufferer from 
brooding over her own sorrows; and 
what might not be hoped for, could we 
lead her back to mingle in the ordinary 
concerns of life, and surround her with 
the few friends she so tenderly loved, 
and whose absence, perhaps, had largely 
contributed to reducing her to her present 
state? This thought recalled Lucy to 
my mind, and the wish I had to ascertain 
how far it might be agreeable to the lat- 
ter to be summoned to Clawbonny. I:de- 
termined to lead the conversation to this 
subject. 


480 WORKS 


“You have told me, Grace,” I said, 
‘that you send and receive letters week- 
ly, toand from Lucy? ”’ 

«‘Kach time the Wallingford goes and 
comes; and that, you know, is weekly. I 
suppose the reason I got no letter to-day 
was owing to the fact that the sloop sailed 
before her time. The Lord High Admiral 
was on board; and, like wind and tide, he 
waits for no man !”’ 

‘* Bless you—bless you, dearest sister— 
this gayety removes a mountain from my 
heart ! ’’ 

Grace looked pleased at first; then, as 
she gazed wistfully into my face, I could 
see her own expression change to one of 
melancholy concern. Large tears started 
from her eyes, and three or four followed 
each other down her cheeks. All this 
said, plainer than words, that, though a 
fond brother might be momentarily de- 
ceived, she herself foresaw the end. I 
bowed my head. to the pillow, stifled the 
groans that oppressed me, and kissed the 
tears from her cheeks. To put an end to 
these distressing scenes, I determined to 
be more business-like in future, and sup- 
press all feeling as much as possible. 

‘«¢The Lord High Admiral,’’ I resumed, 
is a species of Turk on board ship, as 
honest Moses Marble will tell you, when 
you see him, Grace. But, now for Lucy 
and her letters—I dare say the last are 
filled with tender secrets, touching such 
persons as Andrew Drewett, and others 
of her admirers, which render it improper 
to show any of them to me?”’ 

Grace looked at me, with earnestness, 
as if to ascertain whether I was really as 
unconcerned as I affected to be. Then 
she seemed to muse, picking the cotton of 
the spotless counterpane on which she 
was lying, like one at a loss what to say 
or think. 

‘“T see how it is,’? I resumed, forcing a 
smile; ‘‘the hint has been indiscreet. A 
rough son of Neptune is not the proper 
confidant for the secrets of Miss Lucy 
Hardinge. Perhaps you are right ; fidel- 
ity to each other being indispensable in 
your sex.”’ 

‘‘Tt is not that, Miles. I doubt if Lucy 
ever wrote me a line that you might not 


| 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


see ; in proof of which, you shall have the — 
package of her letters, with full permission 
to read every one of them. It will be like 
reading the correspondence of another 
sister.”’ | 

I fancied Grace laid an emphasis on the ~ 
last word she used; and I started at its 
unwelcome sound—unwelcome, as applied 
to Lucy Hardinge, toa degree that I can- 
not express. I had observed that Lucy 
never used any of these terms, as con- 
nected with me, and it was one of the 
reasons why I had indulged in the folly of 
supposing that she was conscions of a 
tenderer sentiment. But Lucy was so 
natural, so totally free from exaggeration, 
so just and true in all her feelings, that 
one could not expect from her most of the 
acts of girlish weakness. As for Grace, 
she called Chloe, gave her the keys of her 
secretary, and told her to bring me the: 
package she described. 

“Go and look over them, Miles,” said 
my sister, as I received the letters; 
‘‘there must be more than twenty of 
them, and you can read half before the — 
dinner hour. I will meet you at table; 
and let me implore you not to alarm good — 
Mr. Hardinge. He does not believe me — 
seriously ill; and it eee? benefit him or 
me to cause aac pain.’ q 

I promised discretion, and hastened fd 8 
my own room with the precious bundle of _ 
Lucy’s letters. Shall I own thetruth? I 
kissed the papers, fervently, before they 
were loosened, and it seemed to me I pos- 
sessed a treasure, in holding in my hand — 
so many of the dear girl’s epistles. I 
commenced in the order of the date, and — 
began to read with eagerness. It was 
impossible for Lucy Hardinge to write to 
one she loved, and not exhibit the truth 
and nature of her feelings. These ap- — 
peared in every paragraph in which it 
was proper to make any allusions of the 
sort. But the letters had other charms. 
It was apparent throughout that the 
writer was ignorant that she wrote to 
an invalid, though she could not but know 
that she wrote to a recluse. Her aim evi- 
dently was to amuse Grace, of whose men: : 
tal sufferings she could not well be igno- 
rant. Lucy was a keen observer, and her 


Neng = PEC malin erg ages 


es 


————— i —“C;: Tl lll SSS ee 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


epistles were filled with amusing com- 
ments on the follies that were daily com- 
mitted in New York, as well asin Paris 
or London. Iwas delighted with the deli- 
cate pungency of her satire, which, how- 
ever, was totally removed from vulgar 
scandal. 

There was nothing in these letters that 
might not have been uttered in a draw- 
ing-room, to any but the persons con- 
cerned ; and yet they were filled with a 
humor that rose often to wit, relieved by 
a tact and taste that a man never could 
have attained. Throughout, it was .ap- 
parent to mé, Lucy, in order to amuse 
Grace, was giving full scope to a natural 
talent—one that far surpassed the same 
capacity in her brother, being as true as 
his was meretricious and jesuitical—which 
she had hitherto concealed from us all, 
merely because she had not seen an oc- 
casion fit for its use. Allusions in the let- 
ters, themselves, proved that Grace had 
commented on this unexpected display of 
observant humor, and had expressed her 
surprise at its existence. It was then as 
novel to my sister as it was to myself. I 
was struck also with the fact that Ru- 
pert’s name did not appear once in all 
these letters. They embraced just twenty- 
seven weeks, between the earliest and the 
latest date ; and there were nine-and- 
twenty letters, two having been sent by 
private conveyances; her father’s, most 
probably, he occasionally making the 
journey by land; yet no one of them 
contained the slightest allusion to her 
brother, or to either of the Mertons. This 
was enough to let me know how well Lucy 
understood the reason of Grace’s with- 
drawal to Clawbonny. 

«And how is it with Miles Walling- 
ford’s name ?’’? some of my fair readers 
may be ready to ask. I went carefully 
through the package in the course of the 
evening, and I set aside two, as the only 
exceptions in which my name did not ap- 
pear. On examining these with jealous 
care, I found each had a postscript, one 
of which was to the following effect: ‘‘I 
see by the papers that Miles has sailed 
for Malta, having at last left those stub- 
born Turks. I am glad of this, as one 

IV .—16 


481 


would not wish to have the excellent fel- 
low shut up in the Seven Towers, however 
‘honorable it may have been.’’? The other 
postscript contained this: ‘‘ Dear Miles 
has got to Leghorn, my father tells me, 
and may be expected home this summer. 
How great happiness this will bring you, 
dearest Grace, I can well understand ; 
and | need scarcely say that no one,will 
rejoice more to see him again than his 
late guardian and myself.”’ 
That the papers were often looked over 
to catch reports of my movements in 
Europe, by means of ships arriving from 
different parts of the world, was apparent 
enough; but I scarce knew what to make 
of the natural and simply affectionate 
manner in which my name was _ intro- 
duced. It might proceed from a wish to 
gratify Grace, and a desire to let the sister 
' know all that she herself possessed touch- 
ing the brother’s movements. Then An- 
drew Drewett’s name occurred very 
frequently, though it was generally in 
connection with that of his mother, who 
had evidently constituted herself a sort of 
regular chaperone for Lucy, more espe- 
cially during the time she was kept out 
of the gay world by her mourning. I read 
several of these passages with the most . 
scrupulous attention, in order to detect 
the feeling with which they had been 
written ; but the most practiced art could 
not have more successfully concealed any 
secret of this sort, than Lucy’s nature. 
This often proves to be the case ; the just- 
minded and true among men daily becom- 
ing the profoundest mysteries toa vicious, 
cunning, deceptive, aud selfish world. An 
honest man, indeed, is ever a paradox to 
all but those who see things with his own 
eyes. This is the reason that improper 
motives are so often imputed to the sim- 
plest and seemingly most honest deeds. 

The result was to write, entreating 
Lucy to come to Clawbonny ; first taking 
care to secure her father’s assent to aid 
my request. This was done in a way not 
to awaken any alarm, and yet with suffi- 
cient strength to render it tolerably cer- 
tain she would come. On deliberate re- 
flection, and after seeing my sister at 
table, where she ate nothing but a light 


482 WORKS 


vegetable diet, and passing the evening | 


with her, 1 thought I could not do less 
in justice to the invalid or her friend. I 
took the course with great regret on 
several accounts; and, among others, 
from a reluctance to appear to draw 
Lucy away from the society of my rival 
into my own. Yet what right had I to 
call, myself the rival or competitor of a 
man who had openly professed an attach- 
nrent, where I had never breathed a syl- 
lable myself that might not readily be 
mistaken for the language of that friend- 
ship which time and habit, and a respect 
for each other’s qualities, so easily awaken 
among the young of different sexes? I 
had been educated almost as Lucy’s 
brother; and why should she not feel 
toward me as one? 

Neb went out in the boat as soon as 
he got his orders, and the Wallingford 
sailed again in ballast that very night. 
She did not remain at the wharf an hour 
after her wheat was out. I felt easier 
when these duties were discharged, and 
was better prepared to pass the night in 
peace. Grace’s manner and appearance, 
too, contributed to this calm, for she 
seemed to revive, and to experience some 
degree of earthly happiness, in having her 
brother near her. When Mr. Hardinge 
read prayers that night, she came to the 
chair where I stood, took my hand in 
hers, and knelt at my side. 1 was touched 
to tears by this act of affection, which 
spoke as much of the tenderness of the 
sainted and departed spirit, lingering 
around those it had loved on carth, as of 
the affection of the world. I folded the 
dear girl to my bosom as I left her at the 
door of her own room that night, and 
went to my own pillow with a heavy 
heart. Seamen pray little; less than they 
ought, amid the rude scenes of their haz- 
ardous lives. Still, I had not quite for- 
gotten the lessons of childhood, and some- 
times I practiced on them. That night I 
prayed fervently, beseeching God to spare 
my sister, if in His wisdom it were meet ; 
and I humbly invoked His blessings on the 
excellent divine, and on Lucy by name. I 
am not ashamed to own it, let who may 
deride the act. 


OF FENIMORE 


COOPER. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 


‘¢ Wherever sorrow is, relief would be; 
If you do sorrow at my grief in love, 
By giving love, your sorrow and my grief 
Were both extermin’d.’”’-—As You LIKE IT. 


I saw but little of Grace, during the 
early part of the succeeding day. She 
had uniformly breakfasted in her own 
room, of late, and, in the short visit 1 
paid her there, 1 found her composed, 
with an appearance of renewed strength 
that encouraged me greatly as to the 
future. Mr. Hardinge insisted on render- 
ing an account of his stewardship that 
morning, and I let the good divine have 
his own way; though had he asked me 
for a receipt in full, 1 would cheerfully 
have given it to him, without examining 
a single item. There was a singular 
peculiarity about Mr. Hardinge. No one 
could live less for the world generally ; 
no one was less qualified to superintend 
extensive worldly interests, that required 
care, or thought ; and no one would have 
been a more unsafe executor in matters 
that were intricate or involved ; still, in 
the mere business of accounts, he was as 
methodical and exact as the most faithful 
banker. Rigidly honest, and with a strict 
regard for the rights of others, living 
moreover on a mere pittance, for the 
greater part of his life, this conscientious 
divine never contracted a debt he could 
not pay. 

What rendered this caution more — 
worthy of remark was the fact that he had — 
a spendthrift son ; but even Rupert could 
never lure him into any weakness of this 
sort. I question if his actual cash receipts, 
independently of the profits of his little 
glebe, exceeded $300 in any one year; yet 
he and his children were ever well dressed, 
and I knew from observation that his 
table was always sufficiently supplied. He 
got a few presents occasionally, from his 
parishioners, it is true; but they did not 
amount to any sum of moment. It was 
method and a determination not to antici- 
pate his income, that placed him so much 
above the world, while he had a family to 
support; whereas, now that Mrs. Brad- 
fort’s fortune was in the possession of 


ra 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


his children, he assured me he felt him- 
self quite rich, though he scrupulously re- 
fused to appropriate one dollar of the 
handsome income that passed through 
his hands as executor to his own uses. 
It was all Lucy’s, who was entitled to 
receive this income even in her minority, 
and to her he paid every cent, quarterly ; 
the sister providing for Rupert’s ample 
wants. 

Of course I found everything exact to 
a farthing; the necessary papers were 
signed, the power of attorney was can- 
celed, and I entered fully into the pos- 
session of my own. An unexpected rise 
in the value of flour had raised my shore 
receipts that year to the handsome 
sum of nine thousand dollars. This was 
not properly income, however, but prof- 
its principally obtained through the 
labor of the mill. By putting all my 
loose cash together, I found I could com- 
mand fully thirty thousand dollars, in 
addition to the price of the ship. This 
sum was making me aman quite at my 
ease, and, properly managed, it opened a 
way to wealth. How gladly would I have 
given every cent of it to see Grace as 
healthy and happy as she was when I 
left her at Mrs. Bradfort’s, to sail in the 
Crisis ! 

After settling the figures, Mr. Har- 
udinge and I mounted our horses, and rode 
over the property to take a look at the 
state of the farm. Our road took us 
near the little rectory and the glebe; 
and here the simple-minded divine broke 
out into ecstasies on the subject of the 
beauties of his own residence, and the 
delight with which he should now return 
to his ancient abode. He loved Claw- 
bonny no less than formerly, but he 
loved the rectory more. 

““T was born in that humble, snug, 
quiet old stone-cottage, Miles,’ he said, 
‘‘and there I lived for years a happy hus- 
band and father, and I hope I may say a 
faithful shepherd of my little flock. St. 
Michael’s, Clawbonny, is not Trinity, 
New York, but it may prove, on a small 
scale, as to numbers, as fitting a nursery 
of saints. What humble and devout Chris- 
tians have I known to kneel at its little 


483 


altar, Miles, among whom your mother, 
and your venerable old grandmother, 
were two of the best. I hope the day 
is not distant when I shall meet there 
another Mrs. Miles Wallingford. Marry 
young, my boy; early marriages prove 
happier than late, where there are the 
means of subsistence.”’ 

“You would not have me marry until 
I can find a woman whom I shall truly 
love, dear sir? ’’ 

‘* Heaven forbid! I would rather see 
you a bachelor to my dying day. But 
America has enough females that a youth, 
like you, could, and indeed ought to love. 
I could direct you to fifty myself.’’ 

** Well, sir, your recommendation would 
have great weight with me. I wish you 
would begin.’’ 

‘That I will, that I will, if you wish it, 
my dear boy. Well, there is a Miss Her- 
vey, Miss Kate Hervey, in town; a girl of 
excellent qualities, and who would just 
suit you, could you agree.”’ 

‘“‘T recollect the young lady; the great- 
est objection I should raise to her is a 
want of personal attractions. Of all Mrs. 
Bradfort’s acquaintances, I think she was 
among the very plainest.’’ 

“‘ What is beauty, Miles? In marriage 
very different recommendations are to be 
looked for by the husband.”’ 

“Yet, I have understood you practiced 
on another theory; Mrs. Hardinge, even 
as I recollect her, was very handsome.”’ 

‘““ Yes, that is true,’’? answered the good 
divine, simply ; ‘‘she was so; but beauty 
is not to be considered as an objection. 
If you do not relish the idea of Kate Her- 
vey, what do you say to Jane Harwood— 
there is a pretty girl for you.”’ 

“A pretty girl, sir, but not for me. 
But, in naming so many young ladies, 
why do you overlook your own daughter ?”’ 

I said this with a sort of desperate reso- 
lution, tempted by the opportunity, and 
the direction the discourse had taken. 
When it was uttered, I. repented of my 
temerity, and almost trembled to hear the 
answer. 

‘Lucy !’’? exclaimed Mr. Hardinge, 
turning suddenly toward me, and _ look- 
ing so intently and earnestly in my face, 


484 


that I saw the possibility of such a thing 
then struck him for the first time. ‘Sure 
enough, why should-you not marry Lucy ? 
There is not a particle of relationship be- 
tween you, after all, though I have so long 
considered you.as brother and sister. I 
wish we had thought of this earlier, Miles ; 
it would be a most capital connection— 
though I should insist on your quitting 
the sea. Lucy has too affectionate a heart 
to be always in distress for an absent hus- 
band. I wonder the possibility of this 
thing did not strike me, before it was too 
late; in a man so much accustomed to see 
what is going on around me, to overlook 
this !’’ 

The words ‘‘too late’? sounded to me 
like the doom of fate ; and had my simple- 
minded companion but the tithe of the ob- 
servation which he so much vaunted, he 
must have seen my agitation. I had ad- 
vanced so far, however, that 1 deter- 
mined to learn the worst, whatever pain 
it might cost me. 

‘©T suppose, sir, the very circumstance 
that we were brought up together has 
prevented us all from regarding the thing 
as possible. But why ‘too late,’ my ex- 
cellent guardian, if we who are the most 
interested in the thing should happen to 
think otherwise ? ”’ 

‘Certainly not too late, if you include 
Lucy herself, in your conditions; but I 
am afraid, Miles, it is ‘ too late’ for Lucy.”’ 

‘«¢AmI to understand, then, that Miss 
Hardinge is engaged to Mr. Drewett ? 
Are her affections enlisted in his behalf ? ”’ 

“You may be certain of one thing, boy, 
and that is, if Lucy be engaged, her af- 
fections are enlisted—so conscientious a 
young woman would never marry without 
giving her heart with her hand. As for 
the fact, however, I know nothing, except 
by inference. I do suppose a mutual at- 
tachment to exist between her and An- 
drew Drewett.’’ 

‘Of course, with good reason, sir. 
Lucy is not a coquette, or a girl to en- 
courage when she does not mean to ac- 
cept.”’ 

«'That’s all I know of the matter. 
Drewett continues to visit; is as attentive 
as a young man well can be, where a 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


young woman is as scrupulous as is Lucy 
about the proper forms, and I infer they 
understand each other. I have thought 
of speaking to Lucy on the subject, but I 
do notwish to influence her judgment in 
a case where there exists no objection. 
Drewett is every way a suitable match, 
and I wish things to take their own 
course. There is one little circumstance, 
however, that I can mention to you as a 
sort of son, Miles, and which I consider 
conclusive as to the girl’s inclinations—l 
have remarked that she refuses all expe- 
dients to get her to be alone with Drewett, 
refuses to make excursions in which she 
must be driven in his curricle, or to go 
anywhere with him, even to the next door. 
So particular is she, that she contrives 
never to be alone with him, even in his 
many visits to the house.”’ 

_* And do you consider that as a proof 
of attachment ?—of her being engaged ? 
Does your own experience, sir, confirm 
such a notion? ”’ 

“What else can it be, if it be not a con- 
sciousness of a passion—of an attachment 
that she is afraid every one will see? 
You do not understand the sex, I per- 
ceive, Miles, or the fineness of their natures 
would be more apparent to you. As for 
my experience, no conclusion can be 
drawn from that, as [and my dear wife 
were thrown together very young, all 
alone, in her mother’s country-house, and 
the old lady being bed-ridden, there was 
no opportunity for the bashful maiden to 
betray this consciousness. But, if I un- 
derstand human nature, such is the secret 
of Lucy’s feelings toward Andrew Drew- 
ett. It is of no great moment to you, 
Miles, notwithstanding, as there are plenty 
more young women to be had in the 
world.”’ 

‘*True, sir; but there is only one Lucy 
Hardinge !’’ I rejoined, with a fervor and 
strength of utterance that betrayed more 
than I intended. 


My late guardian actually stopped his — 
horse this time, to look at me, and I could — 


perceive deep concern gathering around 


his usually serene and placid brow. He © 


began to penetrate my feelings, and I be- 
lieve they caused him real grief. 


oe" aa ee! a TF eS 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


“‘T never could have dreamed of this ! ”’ 
Mr. Hardinge at length exclaimed. ‘‘ Do 
you really love Lucy, my dear Miles? ”’ 

‘‘ Better than I do my own life, sir—I 
almost worship the earth she treads on— 
love her with my whole heart, and have 
loved, I believe, if the truth were known, 
ever since I was sixteen—perhaps I had 
better say, twelve years old.”’ 

The truth escaped me, as the torrent of 
the Mississippi breaks through the levée, 
and the passage once open for its exit, it 
cleared a way for itseif, until the current 
of my feelings left no doubt of its direc- 
tion. I believe I was a little ashamed of 
my own weakness, for I caused my horse 
to walk forward, Mr. Hardinge accom- 
panying the movement, for a considerable 
distance, in a profound, and I doubt not, 
a painful silence. 

«This has taken me altogether by sur- 
prise, Miles,’’ my late guardian resumed ; 
‘altogether by surprise. What would I 
not give could this have been known a 
year or two since! My dear boy, I feel 
for you, from the bottom of my heart, for 
I can understand what it must be to love 
a girl like Lucy, without hope. Why did 
you not let this be known sooner—or, why 
did you insist on going to sea, having so 
strong a motive for remaining at home ?”’ 

“<1 was too young, at that time, sir, to 
act on, or even to understand my own 
feelings. On my return, in the Crisis, I 
found Lucy in a set superior to that in 
which I was born and educated, and it 
would have been a poor proof of my at- 
tachment to wish to bring her down 
nearer to my own level.”’ 

**T understand you, Miles, and can ap- 
preciate the generosity of your conduct; 
though I am afraid it would have been 
too late on your return in the Crisis. 
That was only a twelvemonth since, and 
then, I rather think, Andrew Drewett had 
offered. There is good sense in your feel- 
ing on the subject of marriages in unequal 
conditions in life, for they certainly lead 
_ to many heart-burnings, and greatly less- 
en the chances of happiness. One thing 
is certain; in all such cases, if the infe- 
rior cannot rise to the height of the supe- 
rior, the superior must sink to the level of 


fort’s heiress. 


485 


the inferior. Man and wife cannot con- 
tinue to occupy different social positions ; 
and as for the nonsense that is uttered on 
such subjects, by visionaries, under the 
claim of its being common sense, it is only 
fit for pretending theories, and can have 
nothing to do with the great rules of 
practice. You were right in principle, 
then, Miles, though you have greatly ex- 
aggerated the facts of your own particu- 
lar case.’’ 

‘| have always known, sir, and have 
ever been ready to admit that the Har- 
dinges have belonged to a different class 
of society from that filled by the Walling- 
fords.”’ 

‘This is true, but in part only; and by 
no means true to a degree that need have 
drawn any impassable line between you 
and Lucy. You forget how poor we then 
were, and how substantial a benefit the 
care of Clawbonny might have been to my 
dear girl. Besides, you are of reputable 
descent and position, if not precisely of the 
gentry ; and this is not a country, or an 
age, to carry notions of such a nature be- 
yond the strict bounds of reason. You and 
Lucy were educated on the same level ; 
and, after all, that is the great essential 
for the marriage connection.’’ 

There was great good sense in what 
Mr. Hardinge said; and I began to see 
that pride, and not humility, might have 
interfered with my happiness. As I firm- 
ly believed it was now too late, however, 
I began to wish the subject changed ; for 
I felt it grating on some of my most 
sacred feelings. With a view to divert 
the conversation to another channel, 
therefore, I remarked with some emphasis, 
affecting an indifference I did not feel : 

‘**What cannot be cured must be en- 
dured, sir; and I shall endeavor to find a 
sailor’s happiness hereafter in loving my 
ship. Besides, were Andrew Drewett en- 
tirely out of the question, it is now ‘too 
late,’ in another sense, since it would 
never do for the man who, himself at his 
ease in the way of money, hesitated about 
offering when his mistress was poor, to 
prove his love by proposing to Mrs. Brad- 
Still, [ own to so much 
weakness as to wish to know, before we 


486 


close the subject forever, why Mr. Drew- 
ett and your daughter do not marry, if 
they are engaged? Perhaps it is owing 
only to Lucy’s mourning ?”’ 

«‘T have myself imputed it to another 
cause. Rupert is entirely dependent on 
his sister, and I know Lucy so well as to 
feel certain— some extraordinary cause 
not interposing—that she wishes to be- 
stow half her cousin’s fortune on her 
brother. This cannot be done until she 
is of age, and she wants near two years 
of attaining her majority.” 

I made no answer ; for I felt how likely 
this was to be true. Lucy was not a girl 
of professions, and she would be very apt 
to keep a resolution of this nature a secret 
in her own breast until ready to carry 
it into execution. No more passed be- 
tween Mr. Hardinge and myself on the 
subject of our recent conversation ; though 
I could see my avowal had made him sad, 
and that it induced him to treat me with 
more affection, even, than had been his 
practice. Once or twice, in the course of 
the next day or two, I overheard him 
soliloquizing—a habit to which he was a 
good deal addicted —during which he 
would murmur, ‘‘ What a pity ! ’’—‘‘ How 
much to be regretted!’?— “<I would 
rather have him for a son than any man 
on earth !’’. and other similar expressions. 
Of course these involuntary disclosures 
did not weaken my regard for my late 
guardian. 

‘About noon the- Grace and Lucy came 


_ in, and’ Neb reported that Dr. Bard was 


not at home. ' He had left my letter, how- 
ever, and it would be delivered as soon as 
possible. He told me also that the wind 
had been favorable on the river, and that 
the Wallingford must reach town that 
day. | 

Nothing further occurred, worthy of no- 
tice. I passed the afternoon with Grace, 
in the little room ; and we conversed much 
of-the past, of our parents in particular, 
without adverting, however, to her situa- 
tion, any further than to apprise: her of 
what I had done. I thought-she was not 
sorry to learn I had sent for Lucy, now 
that I was with her, and it was no longer 
possible her illness could be concealed. 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


As for the physicians, when they were 
mentioned, I could see a look of tender 
concern in Grace’s eyes, as if she re- 
gretted that I still clung to the delusion 
of hoping to see her health restored. 
Notwithstanding these little drawbacks, 
we passed a sweet eventide together. 
For more than an hour Grace lay on my 
bosom, occasionally patting her hand on 
my cheeks, as the child caresses its mo- 
This was an old habit of hers, and — 
it was one I was equally delighted and 
pained to have her resume now; we 
were of the age and stature of man and 
woman. . 


ther. 


himself with aiding in the spiritual ad- 


The next day was Sunday, and Grace 


insisted on my driving her to church. 
This was done, accordingly, in a very old- 
fashioned, but very easy Boston chaise, 
that had belonged to my mother, and 
with very careful driving. The congre- — 
gation, 
Michael’s, was very small, being con- — 
fined, with some twenty or thirty excep- 
tions, to the family and dependents of 


like the church edifice of St. 


Clawbonny. Mr. Hardinge’s little flock 


was hedged in by other denominations on 
every side, and it was not an easy matter 
to break through the barriers that sur- 
rounded it. 


Then he was not possessed 
with the spirit of proselytism, contenting 


vancement of those whom Providence had 
consigned to his care. On the present oc- 
casion, however, the little building was 


full, and that was as much as could have _ 


happened had it been as large as St. 


Peter’s itself. The prayers were devoutly — 


and fervently read, and the sermon was 
plain and filled with piety. | 

My sister professed herself in no man- 
ner wearied with the exertion. We dined 


with Mr. Hardinge, at the rectory, which — 
was quite near the church; and the ir- — 
reverent, business-like, make-weight sort — 


of look of going into one service almost 


as soon as the other was ended, as if to 
score off so much preaching and praying 


as available at the least trouble, bemg 


avoided, by having the evening service 
commence late, she was enabled to re-— 
main until the close of the day. Mr. 
Hardinge rarely preached but once of a 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


Sunday. He considered the worship of 
God and the offices of the church as the 
proper duties of the day, and regarded his 
own wisdom as a matter of secondary 
importance. But one sermon cost him as 
much labor, and study, and anxiety as 
most clergymen’s two. His preaching, 


also, had the high qualification of being | 


addressed to the affections of his flock, 
and not to its fears and interests. He 
constantly reminded us of God’s love, 
and of the beauty of holiness ; while I do 
not remember to have heard him allude 
half a dozen times in his life to the ter- 
rors of judgment and punishment, except 
as they were connected with that disap- 
pointed love. I suppose there are spirits 
that require these allusions, and the temp- 
tations of future happiness, to incite their 
feelings ; but I like the preacher who is a 
Christian because he feels himself drawn 
to holiness, by a power that is of itself 
holy; and not those who appeal to their 
people, as if heaven and hell were a mere 
matter of preference and avoidance, on 
the ground of expediency. I cannot bet- 
ter characterize Mr. Hardinge’s preach- 
ing, than by saying that I do not remem- 
ber ever to have left his church with a 
sense of fear toward the Creator; though 
I have often been impressed with a love 
that was as. profound as the adoration 
that had been awakened. 

Another calm and comparatively hap- 
py evening was passed, during which I 
conversed freely with Grace of my own 
intentions, endeavoring to revive in her 
an interest in life, by renewing old im- 
pressions, and making her participate in 
my feelings. Had I been with her from 
the hour spring opened, with its renewal 
of vegetation, and all the joys it confers 
on the innocent and happy, I have often 
thought since, I might have succeeded. 
As it was, she listened with attention, 
and apparently with pleasure, for she saw 
it served to relieve my mind. We did not 
separate until I insisted Grace should re- 
tire, and Chloe had made more than one 
remonstrance about her young mistress’s 
exceeding the usual time. On leaving my 
sister’s chamber, the negress followed me 
with a light, lest I should fall, among the 


487 


intricate turnings, and the ups and downs 
of the old building. 

‘Well, Chloe,’ I said, as we proceeded 
together, ‘‘how do you find Neb? Does 
he improve by this running about on the 
ocean — especially do you think he is 
tanned ? ”’ 

** De fel-ler !”’ 

“Yes, he is a fellow, sure enough, and 
let me tell you, Chloe, a very capital fel- 
low, too. If it can be of any advantage 
to him in your favor to know the truth, I 
will just say, a more useful seaman does 
not sail the ocean than Neb, and that I 
consider him of as much importance as 
the mainmast.”’ 

<“What be dat, Masser Mile ? ” 

‘IT see nothing, Chines uhersi are no 
spooks at Clawbonny, you know.’ 

“¢ No, sah! What b’e t’ing Neb like, de 
fel-ler ?”’ 

“Oh! I ask your pardon—the main- 
mast, you mean. It is the most impor- 
tant spar in the ship, and I meant that Neb 
was as useful as that mast. In battle, 
too, Neb is as brave as a lion.’’ 

Here Chloe could stand it no longer; 
she fairly laughed outright, in pure, natu- 
ral admiration of her suitor’s qualities. 
When this was performed she ejaculated 
once more, “De feller !’’ dropped a 
courtesy, said ‘‘Good night, Masser 
Mile,’’ and left me at my own door. 
Aias! alas! among the improvements 
of this age, we have entirely lost the 
breed of the careless, good - natured, 
affectionate, faithful, hard-working, and 
yet happy blacks, of whom more or less 
were to be found in every respectable and ° 
long-established family of the State forty 
years ago. 

The next day was one of ereat anxiety 
to me. I rose early, and the first thing 
was to ascertain the direction of the 
wind. In midsummer this was apt to be 
southerly, and ‘so it proved on that occa- 
sion. Neb was sent’ to the point as a 
lookout; he returned about ten, and re- 
ported a fleet of sloops in sight. These 
vessels were still a long distance down 
the river, but they were advancing at a 
tolerable rate. Whether the Wallingford 
was among them or not was more than 


488 


could yet be told. I sent him back to his 
station as soon as he had eaten; and un- 
able*to remain quiet in the house myself, 
I mounted my horse and rode out into 
the fields. Here, as usual, I experienced 
the happiness of looking at objects my 
ancestors loved to regard, and which al- 
ways have had a strong and near interest 
with me. 

Perhaps no country that ever yet ex- 
isted has been so little understood, or so 
much misrepresented, as this America of 
ours. Itis as little understood, I was on 
the point of saying, at home as it is 
abroad, and almost as much misrepre- 
sented. Certainly its possessors are a 
good deal addicted to valuing themselves 
on distinctive advantages that, in reality, 
they do not enjoy, while their enemies de- 
claim about vices and evils from which 
they are comparatively free. Facts are 
made to suit theories, and thus it is that 
we see well-intentioned, and otherwise re- 
spectable writers, constantly running into 
extravagances, in order to adapt the cir- 
cumstances to the supposed logical or 
moral inference. This reasoning back- 
ward has caused Alison, with all his 
knowledge and far-mindedness, to fall 
into several egregious errors, as I have 
discovered while recently reading his 
great work on Kurope. He says we are 
a migratory race, and that we do not love 
the sticks and stones that surround us, 
but quit the paternal roof without regret, 
and consider the play-grounds of infancy 
as only so much land for the market. He 
also hazards the assertion, that there is 
not such a thing as a literal farmer—that 
is, a tenant who farms his land from a 
landlord—in all America. Now, as a rule, 
and comparing the habits of America with 
those of older countries, in which land is 
not so abundant, this may be true; but as 
a literal fact, nothing can be less. Four- 
fifths of the inhabited portion of the 
American territory has a civilized exist- 
ence of half a century’s duration; and 
there has not been time to create the long- 
hved attachments named, more especially 
in the regions that are undergoing the 
moral fusion that is always an attendant 
of a new settlement, 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


That thousands of heartless speculators 
exist among us who do regard everything, 
even to the graves of their fathers, as 
only so much improvable property, is as 
undeniable as the fact that they are odi- 
ous to all men of any moral feeling; but 
thousands and tens of thousands are to be 
found in the country, who do reverence 
their family possessions from a sentiment 
that is creditable to human nature. I will 
not mention Clawbonny, and its history, 
lest I might be suspected of being partial ; 
but it would be easy for me to point out a 
hundred families, embracing all classes, 
from the great proprietor to the plain 
yeoman, who own and reside on the es- 
tates of those who first received them 
from the hand of Nature, and this after 
one or two centuries of possession. What 
will Mr. Alison say, for instance, of the 
Manor of Rensselaer? A manor, in the 
legal sense, it is no longer, certainly, the 
new institutions destroying all the feudal 
tenures; but, as mere property, the late 
patron transmitted it as regularly to his 
posterity as any estate was ever trans- 
mitted in Europe. This extensive manor 
lies in the heart of New York, a state 
about as large and about as populous as 


+ 
‘ 
Y 


Scotland, and it embraces no less than _ 


three cities in its bosom, though their 
sites are not included in its ownership, 


having been exempted by earlier grants. 


It is of more than two centuries’ existence, 


4 


and it extends eight-and-forty miles east 


and west, and half that distance north 
and south. Nearly all this vast property, 
is held, at this hour, of the Van Rens- 
selaers, aS landlords, and is farmed by 
their tenants, there being several thou- 
sands of the latter. The same is true, on 
a smaller scale, of the Livingston, the 
Van Cortlandt, the Philipse, the Nicoll, 
and various other old New York estates, 
though several were lost by attainder in 
the Revolution. 


read this book should regard it as fiction ; 
for, allowing for trifling differences, a hun- 
dred Clawbonnys are to be found on the 


two banks of the Hudson at this very hour.* — 


* Even the American may learn the following 
facts with some surprise. It is now about five-and- 


I explain these things, ~ 
lest any European who may happen to — 


* 
f ¥ 
a 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


But to return to the narrative. 

My curiosity increased so much as the 

day advanced that I-rode toward the 
point to look for the sloop. There she 
was, sure enough, and there was Neb, 
too, galloping a young horse, bare-back, 
to the house with the news. I met him 
with an order to proceed to the wharf 
with the chaise, while I dashed on in the 
same direction myself, almost devoured 
with an impatience to learn the success of 
my different missions as I galloped along. 
I could see the upper part of the Walling- 
ford’s sails gliding through the leaves 
that fringed the bank, and it was ap- 
parent that she and I would reach the 
wharf almost at the same instant. Not- 
withstanding all my anxiety, it was im- 
possible to get a glimpse of the vessel’s 
deck. 
I did not quit the saddle until the planks 
of the wharf were under the _ horse’s 
hoofs. Then I got a view of the sloop’s 
decks for the first time. A respectable 
looking, tall, slender, middle-aged man, 
with a bright dark eye, was on the quar- 
ter-deck, and I bowed to him, inferring at 
once that he was one of the medical gen- 
tlemen to whom I had sent the message. 
In effect it was Post, the second named 
on my list, the first not being able to 
come. He returned my bow, but before I 
could alight and go on board to receive 
him, Marble’s head rose from the cabin, 
and my mate sprung ashore and shook 
me cordially by the hand. 

‘“‘Here I am, Miles, my boy,’’ cried 


twenty years since the writer, as tenant by the 


courtesy, came into possession of two farms, lying - 


within twenty-three miles of New York, in each of 
-_ which there had been three generations of tenants, 
and as many of landlords, without a scrap of a pen 
having passed between the parties, so far as the 
writer could ever discover, receipts for rent ex- 
cepted! He also stands in nearly the same relation 
to another farm, in the same county, on which a 
lease for ninety years is at this moment running, 
one of the covenants of which prescribes that the 
tenant shall ‘‘frequent divine service according to 
the Church of England, when opportunity offers.” 
What an evidence of the nature of the tyranny from 
which our ancestors escaped, more especially when 
it is seen that the tenant was obliged to submit 
to this severe exaction, in consideration of a rent 
that is merely nominal! 


489 


Marble, whom, off duty, I had earnestly 
begged to treat me with his old freedom, 
and who took me at my word—‘“‘ Here 
I am, Miles, my boy, and further from 
salt water than I have been in five-and- 
twenty years. So this is the famous 
Clawbonny! I cannot say much for the 
port, which is somewhat crowded while it 
contains but one craft, though the river 
outside is pretty well, as rivers go. D’ye 
know, lad, that I’ve been in a. fever all 
the way up lest we should get ashore, on 
one side or the other? your having land 
on both tacks at once is too much of a 
good thing. This coming up to Claw- 
bonny has put me in mind of running 
them straits, though we have had rather 
better weather this passage, and a clear 
horizon. What d’ye call that affair up 
against the hillside yonder, with the jig-a- 
merree that is turning in the water ? ”’ 

«That is a mill, my friend, and the jig- 
a-merree is the very wheel on which you 
have heard me say my father was 
erushed.’’ 

Marble looked sorrowfully at the wheel, 
squeezed my hand, as if to express sorrow 
for having reminded me of so painful an 
event, and then I heard him murmuring 
to himself—‘‘ Well, I never had a father 
to lose. No bloody mill could do me that 
injury.”’ 

«That gentleman on the quarter-deck,”’ 
I remarked, “‘is a physician for whom I 
sent to town, I suppose.’’ 

«« Ay, ay, he’s some such matter, I do 
suppose, though I’ve been generalizing so 
much about this here river, and the man- 
ner of sailing a craft of that rig, ve had 
little to say to him. I’m always a better 
friend to the cook than to the surgeon. 
But, Miles, my lad, there’s a rare ’un in 
the ship’s after-cabin, I can tell you !”’ 

“That must be Lucy!’ and I did not 
stop to pay my compliments to the strange 
gentleman, but almost leaped into the 
vessel’s cabin. 

There was Lucy, sure enough, attended 
by a respectable-looking elderly black fe- 
male, one of the half dozen slaves that had 
become hers by the death of Mrs. Brad- 
fort. Neither spoke, but we shook hands 
with frankness, and I understood by the 


490 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


anxious expression of my companion’s eye | we should all be to see you here, among 


all she wished to know. 

«‘T really think she seems better, and 
certainly she is far more cheerful, within 
this last day or two,’’ I answered to the 
appeal. “‘ Yesterday she was twice at 
church, and this morning, for a novelty, 
she breakfasted with me.”’ 

“God be praised !’’? Lucy exclaimed, 
with fervor. Then she sat down and re- 
lieved her feelings in tears. I told her 
to expect me again, in a few minutes, and 
joined the physician, who, by this time, 
was apprised of my presence. The calm, 
considerate manner of Post gave me a 
confidence I had not felt for some days ; 
and I really began to hope it might be 
still within the power of his art to save 
the sister I so dearly loved. 

Our dispositions for quitting the sloop 
were soon made, and we ascended the hill 
together, Lucy leaning on my arm. On 
its summit was the chaise, into which the 
doctor and Marble were persuaded to en- 
ter, Lucy preferring to walk. The ne- 
gress was to proceed in the vehicle that 
had been sent for the luggage, and Lucy 
and I set out, arm in arm, to walk 
rather more than a mile in company, and 
that, too, without the presence of a third 
person. Such an occurrence, under any 
other circumstances than those in which 
we were both placed, would have made me 
one of the happiest men on earth ; but, in 
the actual situation in which I found my- 
self, it rendered me silent and uncomfort- 
able. Not so with Lucy; ever natural, 
and keeping truth incessantly before her 
eyes, the dear girl took my arm without 
the least embarrassment, and showed no 
sign of impatience or of doubt. She was 
sad, but full of gentle confidence in her 
own sincerity and motives. 

“‘This is dear Clawbonny again !’’ she 
exclaimed, after we had walked in silence 
a short distance. ‘‘ How beautiful are 
the fields, how fresh the woods, how sweet 
the flowers. Oh! Miles, a day in such a 
spot as this is worth a year in town!” 

«Why then do you, who have now so 
much at your command, pass more than 
half your time between the heated bricks 
of Wall Street, when you know how happy 


us again ! ”’ 

‘*T have not been certain of this; that 
has been the sole reason of my absence. 
Had I known I should be welcome, nothing 
would have induced me to suffer Grace to 
pass the last six sad, sad months by her- 
self.”’ 

“‘Known that you should be welcome! 
Surely you have not supposed, Lucy, that 
I can ever regard you as anything but 
welcome here.’’ 

‘‘T had no allusion to you—thought not 
of you, Miles, at all,’? answered Lucy, with 
the quiet manner of one who felt she was 
thinking, acting, and speaking no more 
than what was perfectly right ; ‘‘ my mind 
was dwelling altogether on Grace.”’ 

“Ts it possible you could doubt of 
Grace’s willingness to see you at all 
times and in all places, Lucy?” 

“T have doubted it; have thought lL 
was acting prudently and well in stay- 
ing away just at this time, though I 
now begin to fear the decision has been 
hasty and unwise.”’ 

«May I ask why Lucy Hardinge has 
come to so singular and violent an opin- 
ion, as connected with her bosom friend, 
and almost sister, Grace Wallingford ? ” — 

“That almost sister ! 
is there I possess which I would not give 
that there might be perfect confidence 
again between you and me on this sub- 
ject ; such confidence as existed when we 
were boy and girl—children I might say.” 

«¢ And what prevents it? Certain lam, 
the alienation does not, cannot come from 
me. You have only to speak, Lucy, to 
have an attentive listener; to ask to re- 
ceive the truest answers. What can, 


then, prevent the confidence you wish?” k 


«‘There is one obstacle; surely, Miles, 
you can readily imagine what 1 mean?” 

“Can it be possible Lucy is alluding to 
Andrew Drewett ?’’ I thought to myself. 
‘‘ Has she discovered my attachment, and — 
does she, will she, can she regret her own 
engagement ?’’ A lover who thought 
thus would not be apt to leave the ques- — 
tion long in doubt. 

‘Deal plainly with me, I implore of — 
you, Lucy,’’ 1 said, solemnly. ‘‘ One 


Oh! Miles, what | : 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


_ word uttered with your old sincerity and 
frankness may close a chasm that has 
now been widening between us for the last 
year or two. What is the obstacle you 
mean ?”’ 

“‘T have seen and felt the alienation to 
which you allude quite as sensibly as you 
can have done yourself, Miles,”’ the dear 
girl answered, in her natural, simple man- 
ner; ‘‘and I will trust all to your gener- 


osity. Need I say more, to explain what | 


I mean, than mention the name of Ru- 
pert? ”’ 

“What of him, Lucy?—be explicit; 
vague allusions may be worse than noth- 
ing.” | 

Lucy’s little hand was on my arm, and 
she had drawn its glove on account of the 
heat. I felt it press me almost convul- 
‘sively, as she added: ‘“‘I do, I mwsé think 
you have too much affection and grati- 
tude for my dear father, too much regard 
for me, ever to forget that you and Ru- 
pert once lived together as brothers ? ”’ 

“Grace has my promise already on 
that subject. I shall never-take the 
world’s course with MRupert, in this 
affair.’ 

I heard Lucy’s involuntary sob, as if 
she gasped for breath; and, turning, I 
saw her sweet eyes bent on my face with 
an expression of thankfulness that could 
not be mistaken. 

‘*T would have given the same pledge 
to you, Lucy, and purely on your own ac- 
count. It would be too much to cause you 
to mourn for your brother’s——”’ 

I did not name the offense lest my feel- 
ings should tempt me to use too strong a 
term. 

‘This is all I ask—all I desire, Miles, 
bless you—bless you! for having so free- 
ly given me this assurance. Now my 
heart is relieved from this burden, I am 
ready to speak frankly to you ; still, had 
I seen Grace y? 

‘‘Have no scruples on account of your 
regard for womanly feeling—I. know 
everything, and shall not attempt to 
conceal from you, that disappointed love 
for Rupert has brought my sister to the 
state she isin. This might not have hap- 
pened had either of us been with her ; but, 


49] 


buried as she has been alone in this place, 
her wounded sensibilities have proved too 
strong for a frame that is so delicate.” 

‘There was a pause for a minute after I 
ended. 

“T have long feared that some such 
calamity would befall us,’? Lucy answered 
in a low, measured tone. ‘‘ 1 think you do 
not understand Grace as well as I do, 
Miles. Her mind and -feelings have a 
stronger influence than common over her 
body ; and I fear no society of ours, or of 
others could have saved her this trial. 
Still, we must not despair. It is a trial— 
that is just the word; and by means of 
tenderness, the most sedulous care, good 
advice, and all that we two can do to aid, 
there must yet be hope. Now there is a 
skillful physician here, he must be dealt 
fairly by, and should know the whole.”’ 

‘‘T intended to consult you on this sub- 
ject—one has such a reluctance to expose 
Grace’s most sacred feelings !”’ 

‘‘Surely it need not go quite as far 
as that,’’ returned Lucy, with sensitive 
quickness ; ‘‘ something—much—imust be 
left to conjecture; but Dr. Post must’ 
know that the mind is at the bottom of 
the evil; though I fear that young ladies 
can seldom admit the existence of such a 
complaint, without having it attributed to 
a weakness of this nature.” 

““That proceeds from the certainty that 
your sex has so much heart, Lucy ; your 
very existence being bound up in others.”’ 

‘‘Grace is one of peculiar strength of 
affections—but, Miles, we will talk no 
further of this at present. I scarce know 
how to speak of my brother’s affairs, and 
you must give me time to reflect. Now 
we are at Clawbonny again, we cannot 
long continue strangers to each other.”’ 

This was said so sweetly, I could have 
knelt and kissed her shoe-ties ; and yet so 
simply, as not to induce misinterpreta- 
tion. It served to change the discourse, 
however, and the remainder of the way 
we talked of the past. Lucy spoke of her 


‘cousin’s death, relating various little in- 


cidents to show how much Mrs. Bradfort 
was attached to her, and how good a 
woman she was; but not a syllable was 
said of the will. I was required, in my 


492 WORKS 
turn, to finish the narrative of my last 
voyage, which had not been completed at 
the theater. When Lucy learned that 
the rough seaman who had come in the 
sloop was Marble, she manifested great 
interest in him, declaring, had she known 
it during the passage, that she would 
have introduced herself. All this time, 
Rupert’s name was not mentioned be- 
tween us; and I reached the house, feel- 
ing that something like the interest I had 
formerly possessed there, had been awak- 
ened in the bosom of my companion. She 
was, at least, firmly and confidingly my 
friend. 

Chloe met Lucy at the door with a mes- 
sage—Miss Grace wanted to see Miss 
Lucy, alone. I dreaded this interview, 
and looked forward to being present at it; 
but Lucy begged me to confide in her, and 
I felt bound to comply. While the dear 
girl was gone to my sister’s room, I 
sought the physician, with whom I had a 
brief, but explicit, conference. I told this 
gentleman how much Grace had been 
_ alone, permitting sorrow to wear upon 
her frame, and gave him to understand 
that the seat of my sister’s malady was 
mental suffering. Post was a cool, dis- 
criminating man, and he ventured no 
remark until he had seen his patient; 
though I could perceive, by the keen man- 
ner in which his piercing eye was fixed on 
mine, that all I said was fully noted. 

It was more than an hour before Lucy 
reappeared. It was obvious at a glance 
that she had been dreadfully agitated, and 
cruelly surprised at the condition in which 
she had found Grace. It was not that 
disease, in any of its known forms, was so 
very apparent; but that my sister resem- 
bled already a being of another world, in 
the beaming of her countenance—in the 
bright, unearthly expression of her eyes 
—and in the slightness and delicacy of the 
hold she seemed, generally, to have on 
life. Grace had always something of this 
about her—much, I might better have 
said ; but it now appeared to be left nearly 
alone, as her thoughts and strength gradu- 
ally receded from the means of existence. 

The physician returned with Lucy to my 
sister’s room, where he passed more than 


7 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


an hour; as long a time, indeed, he after- 4 


ward told me himself, as he thought, 
could be done without fatiguing his 
patient. The advice he gave me was cau- 
tious and discreet. Certain tonics were 
prescribed ; we were told to endeavor to 
divert the mind of our precious charge 
from her sources of uneasiness, by gentle 
means and prudent expedients. Change 
of scene was advised also, could it be done 
without producing too much fatigue. I 
suggested the Wallingford, as soon as 
this project was mentioned. She was a 
small sloop, it is true, but had two very 
comfortable cabins; my father having 
had one of them constructed especially in 
reference to my mother’s occasional visits 
to town. The vessel did little, at that 
season of the year, besides transporting 


flour to market, and bringing back wheat. 


In the autumn she carried wood, and the 
products of the neighborbood. <A holiday 
might be granted her, and no harm come 
of it. 
frankly there was no objection but the 
expense; if I could bear that, a better 
plan could not possibly be adopted. 

That night we discussed the matter in 


the family circle, Mr. Hardinge having — 


come from the rectory to join us. Every- 
body approved of the scheme, it was so 
much better than leaving Grace to pine 


away by herself in the solitude of Claw- — 


bonny. 
““T have a patient at the Springs,”’ said 
Dr. Post, ‘‘ who is very anxious to see me; 


and, to own the truth, I am a little de- 


sirous of drinking the waters myself for a 
week. Carry me to Albany, and land me; 
after which you can descend the river, and 
continue your voyage to as many places, 
and for as long a time, as the strength of 


Miss Wallingford, and your own inclina- 


tions, shall dictate.’’ 
This project seemed excellent in all our 
eyes; even Grace heard it with a smile, 


placing herself entirely in our hands. It 


was decided to put it in practice. 


Dr. Post approved the idea, saying’ | 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


CHAPTER XXX. 


‘¢ And she sits and gazes at me, 
With those deep and tender eyes, 
Like the stars, so still and saint-like, 
Looking downward from the skies.”’ 
—LONGFE LLOW. 


THE next morning I set about the meas- 
ures necessary for carrying out our plan. 
Marble was invited to be of the party, the 
arrangements concerning the ship allow- 
ing of his absence for a few days. Once 
engaged, he was of infinite service, enter- 
ing into the plan as my mate. The regu- 
lar skipper was glad to have a furlough, 
and I retained on board no one of the 
proper crew but the river-pilot—a man 
who could not be dispensed with. By 
this arrangement we cleared the cabin 
from company that was not desirable for 
the circumstances. Neb, and three of 
the Clawbonny blacks, were delighted to 
go on such an excursion, and all were 
more or less familiar with the little duty 
that would be required of them. Indeed, 
Marble, Neb, and myself, were everyway 
able to take care of the vessel. But we 
chose to have plenty of physical force ; 
and a cook was indispensable. Claw- 
bonny supplied the latter, in the person 
of old Dido of that ilk. 

By noon the whole party were ready to 
embark. Grace was driven to the wharf, 
and she walked on board the sloop, sup- 
ported by Lucy and myself; more, how- 
ever, from solicitude than from absolute 
necessity. Every precaution, however, 
was taken by order of the physician to 
prevent anything like excitement ; the 
blacks, in particular, who would have 
followed “‘Miss Grace” to the water’s 
edge, being ordered to remain at home. 
Chloe, to her manifest satisfaction, was 
permitted to accompany her “young mis- 
tress,” and great was her delight. How 
often that day did the exclamation of 
‘‘de feller’’ escape her, as she witnessed 
Neb’s exploits in different parts of the 
sloop. It was some little time before I 
could account for the black’s superfluous 
activity, imputing it to zeal in my sister’s 
service; but, in the end, I discovered 
Grace had to share the glory with Chloe. 

No sooner was everybody on board than 


493 


we cast off. The jib was soon up; and 
under this short sail we moved slowly out 
of the creek, with a pleasant southerly 
breeze. As we passed the point, there stood 
the whole household arrayed in a line, from 
the tottering gray-headed and muddy-look- 
ing negro of seventy, down to the glisten- 
ing, jet-black toddling things of two and 
three. The distance was so small, it was 
easy to trace even the expressions of the 
different countenances, which varied ac- 
cording to the experience, forebodings, 
and characters of the different individuals. 
Notwithstanding the sort of reverential 
attachment all felt for ‘‘Miss Grace,” 
and the uncertainty some among these 
unsophisticated creatures must have ex- 
perienced on the subject of her health, it 
was not in nature for such a cluster of 
‘‘niggers’”’ to exhibit unhappiness at a 
moment when there were so many grounds 
of excitement. The people of this race 
know nothing of the word, perhaps; but 
they delight in the thing quite as much 
as if they did nothing but electioneer 
all their lives. Most pliant instruments 
would their untutored feelings make in 
the hands of your demagogue; and, pos- 
sibly, it may have some little influence on 
the white American to understand how 
strong is his resemblance to the “‘nig- 
ger,’’ when he gives himself up to the 
mastery of this much approved mental 
power. The day was glorious ; a brighter 
sun never shining in Italy, or on the Gre- 
cian islands; the air balmy, the vessel 
was gay to the eyes, having been painted 
about a month before, and every one 
seemed bent on a holiday ; circumstances 
sufficient in themselves to make this light- 
hearted race smiling and happy. As the 
sloop went slowly past, the whole line 
doffed their hats, or courtesied, showing 
at the same time a row of ivory that 
shone like so many gay windows in their 
sable faces. I could see that Grace was 
touched by this manifestation of interest ; 
such a field-day in the Clawbonny corps 
not having occurred since the first time 
my mother went to town, after the death 
of my father. Fortunately, everything 
else was soothing to my sister’s spirits ; 
and, so long as she could sit on the deck, 


494 


holding Lucy’s hand, and enjoy the chang- 
ing landscape, with her brother within 
call, it was not possible she should be 
altogether without happiness. 

Rounding the point as we entered the 
river, the Wallingford eased-off sheet, set 
a Studding-sail and flying-topsail and be- 
gan to breast the Hudson, on her way 
toward its sources. | 

In 1803, the celebrated river we were 
navigating, though it had all the natural 
features it possesses to-day, was by no 
means the same picture of moving life. 
The steamboat did not appear on its sur- 
face until four years later; and the jour- 
neys up and down its waters were fre- 
quently a week in length. In that day, 
the passenger did not hurry on board, 
just as a bell was disturbing the neigh- 
borhood, hustling his way through a rude 
throng of porters, cartmen, orang‘e-wo- 
men, and newsboys, to save his distance, 
by just a minute and a half, but his lug- 
gage was often sent to the vessel the day 
before; he passed his morning in saying 
adieu, and when he repaired to the vessel 
it was with gentleman-like leisure, often 
to pass hours on board previously to sail- 
ing, and not unfrequently to hear the 
unwelcome tidings that this event was de- 
ferred until the next day. How different, 
too, was the passage from one in a steam- 
boat! There was no jostling of each other, 
no scrambling for places at table, no bolt- 
ing of food, no impertinence manifested, 
no swearing about missing the eastern or 
southern boats, or Schenectady, or Sara- 
toga, or Boston trains, on account of a 
screw being loose, nor any other unseem- 
ly manifestation that anybody was in a 
hurry. On the contrary, wine and fruit 
were provided, as if the travelers intended 
to enjoy themselves; and a journey in 
that day was a festa. No more em- 
barked than could be accommodated ; and 
the company being selected, the cabin was 
taken to the exclusion of all unwelcome 
intruders. Now, the man who should 
order a bottle of wine to be placed at 
the side of his plate, would be stared at 
as a fool; and not without reason alto- 
gether, for, did it escape the claws of his 
conurves and the waiters, he would prob- 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


ably reach the end of his journey before 
he could drink it. ’ 

In 1803, not only did the dinner pass in 
peace, and with gentleman-like delibera- 
tion; not only were the cooler and the 
fruit taken on deck, and the one sipped 
and the other eaten at leisure in the course — 
of an afternoon, but in the course of many 
afternoons. Passages were certainly 
made in twenty-four hours in the sloops; 
but these were‘ the exceptions, a week 
being much more likely to be the time 
passed in the enjoyment of the beauti- 
ful scenery of the river. The vessel us- 
ually got aground, once at least, and fre- 
quently several times in a trip; and often 
a day or two were thus delightfully lost, 
giving the stranger an opportunity of vis- 
iting the surrounding country. The ne- 
cessity of anchoring, with a foul wind, on 
every opposing tide, too, increased these 
occasions, thus lending to the excursion 
something of the character of an explor- 
ing expedition. No—no—a man would 
learn more in one passage, up or down the 
Hudson, forty years since, than can be ob- 
tained by a dozen at the present time.’ I 
have a true seaman’s dislike for a steam- 
boat, and sometimes wish they were struck 
out of existence ; though I know it is con- 
trary to all the principles of political econ- 
omy, and opposed to what is called the 
march of improvement. Of one thing, 
however, I feel quite certain: that these 
inventions, coupled with the gregarious 
manner of living that has sprung up in 
the large taverns, is, as one of our writers 
expresses it, ‘‘ doing wonders for the man- 
ners of the people; ’’ though, in my view 
of the matter, the wonder is that they 
have any left. 

There might have been thirty sail in 
sight, when the Wallingford got fairly 
into the river, some turning down on a 
young ebb, making their fifteen or twenty 
miles in six hours, and others, like our- 
selves, stealing along against it at about 
the same rate. Half a dozen of these craft 
were quite near us, and the decks of most 
of those which were steering north had 
parties, including ladies, evidently pro- 
ceeding to the ‘“Springs.’? I desired 
Marble to sheer as close to these different 


AFLOAT AND’ ASHORE. 


vessels aS was convenient, having no 
other object in view than amusement, and 
ancying it might aid in diverting the 
houghts of my sister from her own sor- 
ows to the faces and concerns of others. 
he reader will have no difficulty in un- 
erstanding that the Wallingford, con- 
‘tructed under the orders of an old sailor, 
and for his own uses, was a fast vessel. 
In this particular she had but one or two 
competitors on the river; packets belong- 
ing to Hudson, Poughkeepsie, and Sing 
Sing. She was now only in fair ballast- 
trim, and being admirably provided with 
sails, in the light wind we had, she actu- 
ally went four feet to most of the other 
vessels in sight’s three. My request to 
Marble—or order, as he chose to call it— 
was easily enough complied with, and we 
were soon coming up close in the quarter 
of a sloop that had its decks crowded with 
passengers who evidently belonged to the 
better class ; while on its forecastle were 
several horses and a carriage ; customary 
accompaniments to such a scene in that 
day. 

I had not been so happy in a long time 
as felt at that moment. Grace was bet- 
ter, as I fancied, at least, and it was cer- 
tain that she was more composed and less 
nervous than I had seen her since my re- 
turn; and this of itself was removing the 
weight of a mountain from my heart. 
There was Lucy, too, her rounded cheek 
rosy with the pleasure of the moment, full 
of health, and with eyes that never turned 
on me that they did not beam with confi- 
dence and kindness—the sincerest friend- 
ship, if not love—while every look, move- 
ment, syllable or gesture that was directed 
toward Grace betrayed how strongly the 
hearts of these two precious creatures 
were still knit together in sisterly affec- 
tion. My guardian, too, seemed happier 
than he had been since our conversation 
on the state of my own feelings toward his 
daughter. He had made a condition that 
we should all—the doctor excepted—return 
to Clawbonny in time for service on the 
ensuing Sunday, and he was then actually 
engaged in looking over an old sermon for 
the occasion, though not a minute passed 
in which he did not drop the manuscript 


495 


to gaze about him, in deep enjoyment of 
the landscape. The scene, moreover, was 
so full of repose, that even the movements 
of the different vessels scarce changed its 
Sabbath-like character. I repeat, that I 
had not felt so perfectly happy since I held 
my last conversation with the Salem 
Witches, in the Duomo of Firenze. 

Marble was excessively delighted with 
the behavior of the Wallingford. The 
latter was a sloop somewhat smaller than 
common, though her accommodations 
were particularly commodious, while she 
was sparred on the scale of a flyer. Her 
greatest advantage in the way of sailing, 
however, would have been no great recom- 
mendation to her on a wind; for she was 
nearly start light, and might not have 
been able to carry full sail in hard Novem- 
ber weather, even on the Hudson—a river 
on which serious accidents have been 
known to occur. There was little danger 
in midsummer, however; and we went 
gliding up on the quarter of the Gadd of 
Troy, without feeling concern of any sort. 

‘What sloop is that? ’? demanded the 
skipper of the Gull, as our boom-end 
came within a fathom of his rail, our 
name being out of his view. 

“The Wallingford of Clawbonny, just 
out of port, bound upon a party of 
pleasure.”’ 

Now Clawbonny was not then, nor is it 
now, what might be called a legal term. 
There was no such place known in law, 
beyond the right which usage gives: and 
IT heard alow laugh among the passengers 
of the Gull, as they heard the homely ap- 
pellation. This came from the equivocal 
position my family occupied, midway be- 
tween the gentry and yeomanry of the 
State, as they both existed in 1803. Had 
I said the sloop came from near Colden- 
ham, it would have been all right; for 
everybody who was then anybody in New 
York knew who the Coldens were; or 
Morrisania, the Morrises being people of 
mark; or twenty other places on the 
river ; but the Wallingfords were as little 
known as Clawbonny, when you got fif- 
teen or twenty miles from the spot where 
they had so long lived. This is just the 
difference between obscurity and notori- 


496 


ety. When the latter extends to an entire 
nation, it gives an individual, or a family, 
the note that frees them entirely from the 
imputation of existing under the first con- 
dition ; and this note, favorably diffused 
through Christendom, forms a reputation 
—transmitted to posterity, it becomes 
fame. Unfortunately, neither we nor our 
place had even reached the first simple 
step in this scale of renown; and poor 
Clawbonny was laughed at, on account of 
something Dutch that was probably sup- 
posed to exist in the sound—the Anglo- 
Saxon race having a singular aptitude to 
turn up their noses at everything but their 
own possessions, and everybody but them- 
Selves. I looked at Lucy, with sensitive 
quickness, to see how she received this 
sneer on my birthplace; but, with her, it 
was so much a matter of course to think 
well of everything connected with the 
spot, its name as well as its more essen- 
tial things, that I do not believe she per- 
ceived this little sign of derision. 

While the passengers of the Gull felt 
this disposition to smile, it was very dif- 
ferent with her skipper, his Dutch pilot, 
whose name was Abrahamus Van Valten- 
berg, but who was familiarly known as 
’Brom Folleck, for so the children of New 
Netherlands twisted their cognomens in 
converting them into English; * the 
black cook, the mulatto steward, and the 
‘fall hands,’’ who were one man and a 
boy. There had been generations of 
sloops which bore the name of Walling- 
ford, as well as generations of men, at 
Clawbonny ; and this every river-man 
knew. In point of fact, we counted four 
generations of men, and six of sloops. 
Now, none of these vessels was worthy 
of being mentioned, but this which my 
father had caused to be built; but she 
had a reputation that extended to every- 


* A story is told of a Scotchman of the name of 
Farquharson, who settled among the High Dutch 
on the Mohawk, some time previously to the Revo- 
lution; where, unable to pronounce his name, the 
worthy farmers called him Feuerstein (pronounced 
Firestyne). The son lived and died under this ap- 
pellation; but the grandson, removing toa part of 
the country where English alone was spoken, chose 
to anglicize his name; and, by giving it a free trans- 
lation, became Mr. Flint! 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


/ 


body on the river. The effect of all this 
was to induce the skipper of the Gull to 
raise his hat and say : 

“That, then, I suppose, is Mr. Wall- 
ingford himself—you are welcome back 
on the river; I remember the time well 
when your respected father would make 
that boat do anything but talk. Noth- 
ing but the new paint, which is different 
from the last, prevented me from know- 
ing the sloop. Had I taken a look at her 
bows, this couldn’t have happened.”’ 

his speech evidently gave me and my 
vessel an estimation with the passengers 
of the Gull that neither had enjoyed the 
moment before. There was some private 
conversation on the quarter-deck of the 
other vessel, and, then, a highly respect- 
able and gentleman-like looking old man, 
came to the rail, bowed, and commenced a 
discourse. 

‘“‘T have the pleasure of seeing Captain 
Wallingford, I believe,’? he remarked, 
““with whom my friends, the Mertons, 
came passengers from China. They have 
often expressed their sense of your civili- 
ties,’’ he continued, as I bowed in acquies- 
cence, “‘and declare they should ever wish 
to sail with you, were they again com- 
pelled to go to sea.”’ 

Now, this was viewing my relation to 
the Mertons in any point of view but that 
in which I wished it to be viewed, or in- 
deed was just. Still it was natural; and 
the gentleman who spoke, a man of stand- 
ing and character, no doubt fancied he 
was saying that which must prove par- 
ticularly acceptable to me; another proof 
of how dangerous it is to attempt to decide 
on other men’s feelings or affairs. Icould 
not decline the discourse; and, while the 
Wallingford went slowly past the Gull, I 
was compelled to endure the torment of 
hearing the Mertons mentioned, again and 
again, in the hearing of Lucy and Grace; 
on the nerves of the latter of whom I knew 
it must be a severe trial. At length we 
got rid of this troublesome neighbor, 
though not until Lucy and her father were 
recognized, and spoken to by several of 
the ladies in the other party. While my 
late guardian and his daughter were thus 
engaged, I stole a glance at my sister. 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


She was pale as death and seemed anxious 

\to go below, whither I led her, most hap- 
ily, I have every reason to think, as 
hings turned out. 

When the Wallingford had left the 
7ull some little distance astern, I re- 
turned to the deck, and Lucy went to 
take my place by the side of Grace’s 
berth. She reappeared, however, in a 
very few minutes, saying that my sister 
felt an inclination to rest herself, and 
might fall asleep. Feeble, almost, as an 
infant, these frequent slumbers had be- 
come necessary, in a measure, to the pa- 
tient’s powers. Chloe coming up soon 
after with a report that her young mis- 
tress seemed to be in a doze, we all re- 
mained on deck, in order not to disturb 
her. In this manner, half an hour passed, 
and we had drawn quite near to another 
sloop that was going in the same direc- 
tion with ourselves. At this moment, 
Mr. Hardinge was deeply immersed in 
his sermon, and | perceived that Lucy 
looked at him, from time to time, as if 
she expected to catch his eye. I fancied 
something distressed her, and yet it was 
not easy to imagine exactly what it 
could be. 

<“Do you not intend to go nearer the 
other sloop?’’ Lucy at length inquired, 
alluding to the vessel that was almost in 
a line with us; but to which I had ordered 
Neb to give a respectable berth. 

«Tl thought the gossip of the last quite 
sufficient ; but, if you like these inter- 
views, certainly.”’ 

Lucy seemed embarrassed ; she colored 
to her temples, paused a moment, and 
then added, affecting to laugh—and it was 
so seldom Lucy affected anything, but this 
time she did affect to laugh—as she said : 

‘‘I do wish to go near that sloop, 
though it is not exactly for the reason 
you suppose.”’ 

I could see she was distressed, though 
it was not yet easy to imagine the cause. 
Lucy’s requests were laws to me, and Neb 
was ordered to sheer down on the quarter 
of this second sloop, as we had done on 
that of the first. As we drew near her, 
her stern told us that she was called the 
Orpheus of Sing Sing, a combination of 


497 


names that proved some wag had been 
connected with the christening. Her 
decks had also a party of both sexes on 
them, though neither carriage nor horses. 
All this time, Lucy stood quite near me, 
as if reluctant to move, and when we were 
sufficiently near the sloop, she pressed still 
nearer to my side, in the way in which her 
sex are apt to appeal to those of the other 
who possess their confidence, when most 
feeling the necessity of support. 

‘*Now, Miles,’’ she said in an under- 
tone, ‘‘you must ‘speak that sloop,’ as 
you call it; I can never hold a loud con- 
versation of this sort in the presence of so 
many strangers.”’ 

“Very willingly, Lucy; though you 
will have the goodness to let me know 
exactly what I am to say.”’ 

‘Certainly ; begin, then, in your sailor 
fashion, and when that is done I will tell 
you what to add.”’ 

““Knough. Orpheus there!’’ I called 
out, just raising my voice sufficiently to 
be heard. 

“Ay, ay; what’s wanted ?’’ answered 
the skipper, taking a pipe from his mouth, 
as he leaned with his back against his 
own tiller, in a way that was just in 
accordance with the sleepy character of 
the scene. 

I looked at Lucy, as much as to say, 
‘What next ? ”’ 

** Ask him if Mrs. Drewett is on board 
his sloop—Mrs. Andrew Drewett, not Mr. 
—the old lady, I mean,’’ added the dear 
girl, blushing to the eyes. 

I was so confounded—I might almost 
add appalled—that it was with great 
difficulty I suppressed an exclamation. 
Command myself I did, however, and ob- 
serving that the skipper was curiously 
awaiting my next question, I put it: 

“Is Mrs. Andrew Drewett among your 
passengers, sir?’’ I inquired, with a cold 
distinctness. 

My neighbor nodded his head, and spoke 
to some of his passengers, most of whom 
were on the main deck, seated on chairs, 
and concealed from us, as yet, by the 
Wallingford’s mainsail, her boom being - 
guyed out on the side next the Orpheus, 
with its end just clear of her quarter. 


498 


<¢She is, and wishes to know who makes 
the inquiry ?’’ returned the Sing Sing 
skipper, in the sing-song manner in which 
ordinary folk repeat what is dictated. 

‘Say that Miss Hardinge has-a mes- 
sage to Mrs. Drewett from Mrs. Ogilvie, 
who is on board that other sloop,’’? added 
Lucy, in a low, and, as I thought, tremu- 
lous tone. 

I was nearly choked; but made out to 
communicate the fact as directed. In an 
instant I heard the foot of one who leaped 
on the Orpheus’s quarter-deck, and then 
Andrew Drewett appeared, hat in hand, 
a face all smiles, eyes that told his tale 
as plain as any tongue could have uttered 
it, and such salutations as denoted the 
most perfect intimacy. Lucy took my 
arm involuntarily, and I could feel that 
she trembled. The two vessels were now 
so near, and everything around us was so 
tranquil, that by Lucy’s advancing to the 
Wallingford’s quarter-deck, and Drew- 
ett’s coming to the taffrail of the Orpheus, 
it was easy to converse without any un- 
seemingly raising of the voice. All that 
had been said between me and the skip- 
per, indeed, had been said on a key but 
little higher than common. By the change 
in Lucy’s position I could no longer see 
her face; but I knew it was suffused, and 
that she was far from being as composed 
and collected as was usual with her de- 
meanor. All this was death to my recent 
happiness, though I could not abstain 
from watching what now passed, with 
_.the vigilance of jealousy. 
~+-**Good morning,’? Lucy commenced, 
and the words were uttered in a tone that 
I thought bespoke great familiarity, if 
not confidence ; ‘‘ will you have the good- 
ness to tell your mother that Mrs. Ogilvie 
begs she will not leave Albany until her 
arrival? The other sloop, Mrs. Ogilvie 
thinks, cannot be more than an hour or 
two after you, and she is very desirous of 
making a common party to—ah! there 
comes Mrs. Drewett,’’ said Lucy, hastily 
interrupting herself, ‘‘and I can deliver 
my message myself.’’ 

Mrs. Drewett, coming aft at this in- 
stant, Lucy certainly did turn to her, and 
communicated a message which it seems 


y 
a 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


the lady in the Gull had earnestly re- 
quested her to deliver in passing. 

‘And now,’’ returned Mrs. Drewett, 
when Lucy had ceased, first civilly salut- 
ing me, ‘and now, my dear Lucy, we 
have something for you. So sudden was 
your departure, on the receipt of that 
naughty letter ’’—my letter, summoning 
the dear girl to the bedside of her friend, 
was meant—‘‘ that you left your work- 
box behind you, and as I knew that it 
contained many notes besides bank-notes, | 
I would not allow it to be separated from 
me until we met. Here it is; in what 
manner shall we contrive to get it into 
your hands ?”’ 

Lucy started, and I could see that she 
both felt and looked anxious. As I after- 
ward learned, she had been passing a day 
at Mrs. Drewett’s villa, which joined her 
own, both standing on the rocks quite 
near to that spot which a mawkish set 
among us is trying to twist from plain, 
homely, up-and-down, old-fashioned Hell- 
Gate into the exquisite and lackadaisical 
corruption of Hurl-Gate—Heaven save 
the mark! What puny piece of folly and 
affectation will they attempt next? But 
Lucy was paying this visit when she re- 
ceived my letter, and it appears such was 
her haste to get to Grace that she quitted 
the house immediately, leaving behind her 
a small work-box wnlocked, and in it vari- 
ous papers that she did not wish read. 


-Of course one of Lucy’s sentiments and 


tone could hardly suspect a lady, and 
Mrs. Drewett was strictly that, of rum- 
maging her box or of reading her notes 
and letters; but one is never easy when 
such things can be supposed to be in the 
way of impertinent eyes. There are 
maids as well as mistresses, and I could 
see in a moment that she wished the box 
was again in her own possession. Under 
the circumstances, therefore, I felt it time 
to interfere. 

“Tf your sloop will round - to, Mr. 
Drewett,’’ I remarked, receiving a cold 
salutation from the gentleman in return 
for my own bow, the first sign ef recog-— 
nition that had passed between us, “I 
will round-to myself and send a boat for 
the box.’’ 


This proposal drew all eyes toward the 
skipper, who was still leaning against his 
_ tiller, smoking for life or death. It was 
not favorably received, extorting a grunt 
in reply, that any one could understand 
denoted dissent. The pipe was slowly 
removed, and the private opinion of this 
personage was pretty openly expressed 
in his Dutchified dialect. 

“Tf a body coult get a wint for der 
askin’; dis might do very well,’’ he said ; 
‘“but nobody rounts-to mit a fair wint.”’ 

I have always remarked that they who 
have used a dialect different from the 
common forms of speech in their youth, 
and come afterward to correct it by in- 
tercourse with the world, usually fall back 
into their early infirmities in moments of 
trial, perplexity, or anger. This is easily 
explained. Habit has become a sort of 
nature in their childhood, and it is when 
most tried that we are the most natural. 
Then, this skipper, an Albany—or Al- 
bonny man, as he would probably have 
styled himself, had got down the river 
as far as Sing Sing, and had acquired a 
tolerable English; but, being now dis- 
turbed, he fell back upon his original 
mode of speaking, the certain proof that 
he would never give in. I saw at once 
the hopelessness of attempting to per- 
suade one of his school, and had begun to 
devise some other scheme for getting the 
box on board, when to my surprise, and 
not a little to my concern, I saw Andrew 
-Drewett, first taking the box from his 
mother, step tpon the end of our main- 
boom, and move along the spar with the 
evident intention to walk as far as our 
deck and deliver Lucy her property with 
his own hands. 

The whole thing occurred so suddenly, 
that there was no time for remonstrance. 
Young gentlemen who are thoroughly in 
love, are not often discreet in matters 
connected with their devotion to their 
mistresses. I presume Drewett saw the 
boom placed so favorably as to tempt him, 
and he fancied it would be a thing to 
mention to carry a lady her work-box 
across a bridge that was so precarious a 
footing. Had the spar lain on the ground, 


it would certainly have been no exploit at | 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


499 


all for any young man to walk its length, 
carrying his arm full of work-boxes; but 
it was a very different matter when the 
same feat had to be performed on a 
sloop’s boom in its place, suspended over 
the water, with the sail set, and the 
vessel in motion. This Drewett soon dis- 
covered, for, advancing a step or two, he 
grasped the topping-lift, which luckily for 
him happened to be taut, for a support. 
All this occurred before there was time 
for remonstrance, or even for thought. 
At the same instant Neb, in obedience to 
a sign previously given by me, had put 
the helm down a little, and the boom-end 
was already twenty feet from the quarter- 
deck of the Orpheus. 

Of course, all the women screamed, or 
exclaimed, on some key or other. Poor 
Mrs. Drewett hid her face, and began to 
moan her son as lost. I did not dare look 
at Lucy, who remained quiet as to voice, 
after the first involuntary exclamation, 
and as immovable as a statue. Luckily 
her face was from me. As Drewett was 
evidently discomposed, I thought it best, 
however, to devise something not only for 
his relief, but, for that of Lucy’s box, 
which was in quite as much jeopardy as 
the young man himself; more so, indeed, 
if the latter could swim. I was on the 
point of calling out to Drewett to hold on, 
and I would cause the boom-end to reach 
over the Orpheus’s main-deck, after which | 
he might easily drop down among his 
friends, when Neb, finding some one to 
take the helm, suddenly stood at my side. 

‘‘He drop that box, sartain, Masser 
Mile,’’ half whispered the negro; ‘‘he leg 
begin to shake already, and he won’erful 
skear’d !”’ 

‘¢T would not have that happen for a 
good deal. Can you save it, Neb?”’ 

“‘Sartain, sir. Only hab to run out on 
?°e boom and bring it in, and gib it Miss 
Lucy: she mighty partic’lar about dat 
werry box, Masser Mile, as I see a hun- 
dred time, and more too.”’ 

«Well, lay out, boy, and bring it in, 
and look to your footing, Neb.” 

This was all Neb wanted. The fellow 
had feet shaped a good deal like any other 
aquatic bird, with the essential difference, 


500 WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


however, that no small part of his founda- 
tion had been laid abaft the perpendicular 
of the tendon Achilles, and being without 
shoes, he could nearly encircle a small 
spar in his grasp. Often and often had I 
seen Neb run out on a topsail-yard, the 
ship pitching heavily, catching at the 
lift, and it was a mere trifle after that to 
run out on a spar as large as the Wall- 
ingford’s main-boom. <A tolerably dis- 
tinctive scream from Chloe first apprised 
me that the negro was in motion. Look- 


ing in that direction, I saw him walking | the 


steadily along the boom, notwithstanding 
Drewett’s loud remonstrances and decla- 
rations that he wanted no assistance, un- 
til he reached the spot where the young 
gentleman stood grasping the lift, with 
his legs submitting to more tremor than 
was convenient. Neb now grinned, looked 
as amiable as possible, held out his hand, 
and revealed the object of his visit. 

‘‘Masser Mile t’ink ’e gentleum better 
gib me Miss Lucy box,”’ said Neb, as po- 
litely as he knew how. 

I believe in my soul that Drewett could 
have kissed Neb, so glad was he to obtain 
this little relief. ‘The box was yielded 
without the slightest objection, Neb re- 
ceiving it with a bow, after which the 
negro turned round as coolly as if he were 
on the deck, and walked deliberately and 
steadily in to the mast. He stopped an 
instant just at the small of the spar, to 
look back at Drewett, who was saying 
something to pacify his mother, and I 
observed that, as he stood with his heels 
in a line, the toes nearly met underneath 
the boom, which his feet grasped some- 
thing in the manner of talons. A deep 
sigh reached my ear as Neb bounded 
lightly on deck, and I knew whence it 
came by the exclamation of ‘‘ De fel-ler !”’ 

As for Neb, he advanced with his prize, 
which he offered to Lucy with one of his 
best bows, but in a way to show he was 
not conscious of having performed any 
unusual exploit. Lucy handed the box to 
Chloe, without averting her eyes from 
Drewett, in whose situation she mani- 
fested a good deal more concern than I 
liked, or fancied he deserved. 

‘Thank you, Mr. Drewett,”’ she said, 


affecting to think the box had been re- 
covered altogether by his address; ‘‘it is 
now safe, and there is no longer any 
necessity for your coming here. Let Mr. — 
Wallingford do what he says’’—lI had 
mentioned, in a low voice, the practica- 
bility of my own scheme—‘‘and return to 
your own sloop.”’ 

But two things now interposed to the 
execution of this very simple expedient. 
The first was Drewett’s pride, blended 
with a little obstinacy, and the other was 
‘‘ Albonny’’ skipper’s pride, blended 
with a good deal of obstinacy. The first 
did not like to retreat, after Neb had so 
clearly demonstrated it was no great mat- 
ter to walk on the boom, and the latter, 
soured by the manner in which we had 
outsailed him, and fancying Andrew had 
deserted to get on board a faster vessel, 
resented the whole by sheering away from 
us to the distance of a hundred yards. I 
saw that there remained but a single ex- 
pedient, and set about adopting it without 
further delay. 

‘‘Take good hold of the lift, Mr. Drew- 
ett, and steady yourself with both hands ; 
ease away the peak halyards to tauten 
that lift a little more forward. Now, one 
of you stand by to ease off the guy hand- 
somely, and the rest come aft to the 
main-sheet. Look out for yourself, Mr. 
Drewett, we are about to haul in the boom, 
when it will be a small -matter to get you 
in upon the taffrail. Stand by to luff 
handsomely, so as to keep the boom as 
steady as possible.”” © ™ 

But Drewett clamorously prot@ted 
against our doing anything of the sort. 
He was getting used to his situation, 
and intended to come in Neb-fashion in a 
minute more. All he asked was not to- 
be hurried. 

«¢ No—no—touch nothing, I entreat of 
you, Captain Wallingford ’’—he said ear- 
nestly. ‘‘If that bla can do it, surely I 
ought to do it, too.’ 

‘* But the black has claws, and you nail ; 
none, sir; then he is a sailor, and used t 
such things, and you are none, sir. Mor 
over, he was barefooted, while you hay 
got on stiff, and, I dare say, slippe 
boots.’ 


ri 


AFLOAT AND ASHORE. 


«Yes, the boots are an incumbrance. 
f I could only throw them off, I should do 

well enough. As it is, however, I hope to 
have the honor of shaking you by the hand, 
Miss Hardinge, without the disgrace of 
being helped.’’ 
Mr. Hardinge here expostulated, but all 
in vain ; for I saw plainly enough Drewett 
was highly excited, and that he was pre- 
paring for a start. These signs were now 
so apparent that all of us united our 
voices in remonstrances; and Lucy said 
imploringly to me, “Jo not let him move, 
Miles—I have heard him say he cannot 
swim.’’ 

It was too late. Pride, mortified van- 
ity, obstinacy, love, or what you will, 
rendered the young man deaf, and away 
he went, abandoning the lift, his sole 
protection. I saw, the moment he quit- 
ted his grasp, that he would never reach 
the mast, and made my arrangements 
accordingly. I called to Marble to stand 
by the luff ; and, just as the words passed 
my lips, a souse into the water told the 
whole story. The first glance at poor 
Drewett’s frantic manner of struggling 
told me that Lucy was really aware of 
his habits, and that he could not swim. 
I was in light duck, jacket and trousers, 
with seaman’s pumps; and placing a foot 
on the rail, I alighted alongside of the 
drowning young man, just as he went 
under. Well assured he would reappear, 
I waited for that, and presently I got a 
view of his hair, within reach of my arm, 
and I grasped it, in a way to turn him on 
his back, and bring his face uppermost. 
At this moment the sloop was gliding 
away from us, Marble having instantly 
put the helm hard down, in order to 
round-to. As I afterward learned, the 
state of the case was no sooner under- 
stood in the other sloop, than the Albonny 
men gave in, and imitated the Walling- 
ford. 

There was no time for reflection. As 
soon as Drewett’s hair was in my grasp, 
I raised his head from the water, by an 
effort that forced me under it, to let him 
catch his breath ; and then relaxed the 
power by which it had been done, to come 
up myself, I had done this to give him a 


501 


moment to recover his recollection, in the 
hope he would act reasonably; and lnow 
desired him to lay his two hands on my 
shoulders, permit his body to sink as low 
as possible and breathe, and trust the 
rest to me. If the person in danger can 
be made to do this, an ordinarily good 
swimmer could tow him a mile, without 
any unusual effort. But the breathing 
spell afforded to Drewett had the effect 
just to give him strength to struggle 
madly for existence, without aiding his 
reason. On the land, he would have been 
nothing in my hands; but in the water, 
the merest boy may become formidable. 
God forgive me, if I do him injustice ! but 
I have sometimes thought, since, that 
Drewett was perfectly conscious who I 
was, and that he gave some vent to his 
jealous distrust of Lucy’s feelings toward 
me. This may be all imagination; but 
I certainly heard the words, ‘‘ Lucy,” 
“Wallingford,” ‘‘Clawbonny,”’ ‘ hate- 
ful,’ muttered by the man, even as he 
struggled there for life. The advantage 
given him by turning to allow him to put 
his hands on my shoulders, liked to have 
cost me dear. Instead of doing as I 
directed, he grasped my neck with both 
arms, and seemed to wish to mount on 
my head, forcing his own shoulders quite 
out of water, and mine, by that much 
weight, beneath it. It was while we were 
thus placed, his mouth within an inch or 
two of my very ear, that I heard the 
words muttered which have been men- 
tioned. It is possible, however, that he 
was unconscious of that which terror and 
despair extorted from him. 

I saw no time was to be lost, and my 
efforts became desperate. I first endeav- 
ored to swim with this great incumbrance ; 
but it was useless. The strength of Her- 
cules could not long have buoyed up the 
under body of such a load sufficiently to 
raise the nostrils for breath ; and the con- 
vulsive twitches of Drewett’s arms were 
near strangling me. I must throw him 
off, or drown. Abandoning the attempt 
to swim, I seized his hands with mine, and 
endeavored to loosen his grasp of my 
neck. Of course we both sunk while | 
was thus engaged ; for it was impossible 


502 


to keep my head above water, by means | though sharks never ascended the Hud- | 


of my feet alone, with a man of some size 
riding, from the shoulders up, above the 
level of my chin. | 

I can scarcely describe what followed. I 
confess I thought no longer of saving 
Drewett’s life, but only of saving my 
own. We struggled there in the water 
like the fiercest enemies, each aiming for 
the mastery, as, if one were to live, the 
other must die. We sunk and rose to the 
surface for air, solely by my efforts, no 
less than three times; Drewett getting 
the largest benefits by the latter, thus re- 
newing his strength; while mine, great as 
it was by nature, began gradually to fail. 
A struggle so terrific could not last long. 
We sunk a fourth time, and I felt it was 
not to rise again, when relief came from 
an unexpected quarter. From boyhood, 
my father had taught me the important 
lesson of keeping my eyes open under 
water. By means of this practice, I not 
only felt, but saw the nature of the tre- 
mendous struggle that was going on. It 
also gave me a Slight advantage over 
Drewett, who closed his eyes, by en- 
abling me to see how to direct my own 
exertions. 

While sinking, as I believed, for the 
last time, I saw a large object approach- 
ing me in the water, which, in the con- 
fusion of the moment, I took for a shark, 


THE END OF ‘‘ AFLOAT AND ASHORE.”’ 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


son so high, and were even rare at New 
York. There it was, however, swimming 
toward us, and even descending lower, as 
if to pass beneath, in readiness for the 
fatal snap. Beneath it did pass, and I 
felt it pressing upward, raising Drewett 
and myself to the surface. As I got a 
glimpse of the light, and a delicious draft 
of air, Drewett was drawn from my 
neck by Marble, whose encouraging voice 
sounded like music in my ears. At the 
next instant my shark emerged, puffing 
like a porpoise ; and then I heard : 

‘Hole on, Masser Mile—here he nigger 
close by!’”? - 

I was dragged into the boat, I scarce 
know how, and lay down completely ex- 
hausted ; while my late companion seemed 
to me to be a lifeless corpse. In a mo- 


ment, Neb, dripping like a black river- | 


god, and glistening like a wet bottle, 
placed himself in the bottom of the boat, 
took my head into his lap, and began to 
squeeze the water from my hair, and to 
dry my face with some one’s handker- 
chief—I trust it was not his own. 

«‘Pull away, lads, for the sloop,’’ said 
Marble, as soon as everybody was out of 
the river. ‘This gentleman seems to 
have put on the hatches for the last time 
—as for Miles, he’l/ never drown in fresh 
water.”’ 


? 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


CHAPTER I. 


“What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse ? 
Or shall we on without apology?” 
—ROMEO AND JULIET. 


THE fine estuary which penetrates the 
American coast between the fortieth and 
forty-first degrees of latitude, is formed 
by the confluence of the Hudson, the 
Hackensack, the Passaic, the Raritan, 
and a multitude of smaller streams, allof 
which pour their tribute into the ocean 
within the space named. The islands of 
Nassau and Staten are happily placed to 
exclude the tempests of the open sea, 
while the deep and broad arms of the lat- 
ter offer every desirable facility for foreign 
trade and internal intercourse. To this 
fortunate disposition of land and water, 
with a temperate climate, a central posi- 
tion, and an immense interior that is now 
penetrated in every direction either by 
artificial or by natural streams, the city 
of New York is indebted for its extraor- 
dinary prosperity. Though not wanting 
in beauty, there are many bays that sur- 
pass this in the charms of scenery ; but it 
may be questioned if the world possesses 
another site that unites so many natural 
advantages for the growth and support of 
a widely-extended commerce. Asif never 
wearied with her kindness, Nature has 
placed the island of Manhattan at the 
precise point that is the most desirable for 
the position ofa town. Millions might in- 
habit the spot, and yet a ship should load 
near every door; and while the surface of 
the land just possesses the inequalities 
that are required for health and cleanli- 
ness, its bosom is filled with the material 
most needed in construction. 

The consequences of so unusual a con- 


currence of favorable circumstances are 
well known. A. vigorous, healthful, and 
continued growth, that has no parallel 
even in the history of this extraordinary 
and fortunate country, has already raised 
the insignificant provincial town of the last 
century to the level of the second-rate 
cities of the other hemisphere. The New 
Amsterdam of this continent already 
rivals its parent of the other ; and, so far 
as human powers may pretend to predict, 
a few fleeting years will place her on a 
level with the proudest capitals of Kurope. 

It would seem that, as Nature has 
given its periods to the stages of animal 
life, it has also set limits to all moral and 
political ascendency. While the city of 
the Medici is receding from its crumbling 
walls, like the human form shrinking into 
‘‘the lean and slippered pantaloon,’’ the 
Queen of the Adriatic sleeping on her 
muddy isles, and Rome itself is only to be 
traced by fallen temples and _ buried 
columns, the youthful vigor of America is 
fast covering the wilds of the West with 
the happiest fruits of human industry. 

By the Manhattanese who is familiar 
with the forest of masts, the miles of 
wharves, the countless villas, the hundred 
churches, the castles, the smoking and 
busy vessels that crowd his bay, the daily 
increase and the general movement of his 
native town, the picture we are about to 
sketch will scarcely be recognized. He 
who shall come a generation later will 
probably smile, that subject of admiration 
should have been found in the existing 
condition of the city; and yet we shall 
attempt to carry the recollections of the 


‘reader but a century back in the brief his- 


tory of his country. 
As the sun rose on the morning of the 
(503) 


504 


3d June, 171-, the report of a cannon was | will be famished ; when I die, you may be > 
heard rolling along the waters of the Hud- | —ahem—Kuclid, I leave thee in charge 


son. Smoke issued from an embrasure of 
a small fortress, that stood on the point 
of land where the river and bay mingle 
their waters. The explosion was followed 
by the appearance of a flag, which, as it 
rose to the summit of its staff and unfolded 
itself heavily in the light current of air, 
showed the blue field and the red cross of 
the English ensign. ; 
At the distance of several miles, the 
dark masts of a ship were to be seen, 
faintly relieved by the verdant back- 
ground of the heights of Staten Island. 
A little cloud floated over this object, and 
then an answering signal came dull and 
rumbling to the town. ‘The flag that the 
cruiser set was not visible in the distance. 
At the precise moment that the noise of 
the first gun was heard, the door of one 
of the principal dwellings of the town 
opened, and a man, who might have been 
its master, appeared on :ts stoop, as the 
ill-arranged entrances of the buildings of 
the place are still termed. He was seem- 
ingly prepared for some expedition that 
was likely to consume the day. A black 
of middle age followed the burgher to the 
threshold ; and another negro, who had 
not yet reached the stature of manhood, 
bore under his arm a small bundle, that 
probably contained articles of the first 
necessity to the comfort of his master. 
“Thrift, Mr. Euclid, thrift is your 
true philosopher’s stone,’? commenced, or 
rather continued, in a rich, full-mouthed 
- Dutch, the proprietor of the dwelling, 
who had evidently been giving a leave- 
taking charge to his principal slave, 
before quitting the house; ‘thrift hath 
made many a man rich, but it never yet 
brought any one to want. It is thrift 
which has built up the credit of my house, 
and though it is said by myself, a broader 
back and firmer base belong to no mer- 
chant in the colonies. You are but the 
reflection of your master’s prosperity, 
you rogue, and so much the greater need 
that you look to his interests. If the 
substance is wasted, what will become of 
the shadow? When I get delicate you 
will sicken; when I am a-hungered, you 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


with goods and chattels, house and stable, 
with my character in the neighborhood. 
I am going to the Lust in Rust, for a 
mouthful of better air. Plague and fevers! 
I believe the people will continue to come 
into this crowded town, until it gets to 
be as pestilent as Rotterdam in the dog — 
days. You have now come to years when 
a man obtains his reflection, boy, and I — 
expect suitable care and discretion about 
the premises while my back is turned 
Now, harkee, sirrah: I am not. entirely 
pleased with the character of thy com- 
pany. Itis not altogether as respectable 
as becomes the confidential servant of a 
man of a certain station in the world. 
There are thy two cousins, Brom and 
Kobus, who are no better than a couple of 
blackguards; and as for the English negro, 
Diomede—he is a devil’s imp! Thou hast 
the other locks at disposal, and ’’—draw- 
ing with visible reluctance the instrument 
from his pocket—‘“ here is the key of the 
stable. Not a hoof is to quit it, but to go 
to the pump; and see that each animal 
has its food to a minute. . The devil’s roy- 
sterers ! a Manhattan negro takes a Flem- — 
ish gelding for a gaunt hound that is 
never out of breath, and away he goes at 
night, scampering along the highways 
like a Yankee witch switching through 
the air on a broomstick; but mark me, 
Master Kuclid, I have eyes in my head, 
as thou knowest by bitter experience ! 
De’ye remember, ragamuffin, the . time 
when I saw thee, from the Hague, riding 
the beasts, as if the devil spurred them, 
along the dyke of Leyden, without re- 
morse as without leave ? ” 

‘“T alway b’rieve some make-mischief 
tell massa dat time,’’ returned the negro — 
sulkily, though not without doubt. | 

‘‘ His own eyes were the tell-tales. If — 
masters had no eyes, a pretty world would — 
the negroes make of it! Ihave got the 
measure of every black heel on the island — 
registered in the big book you see me so _ 
often looking into, especially on Sundays ; _ 
and, if either of the tire-legs I have named 
dares to enter my grounds, let him expect 
to pay a visit to the city provost. What 


= 


~~ Fe 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


do the wildcats mean? 
that the geldings were bought in Holland, 
with charges for breaking in, shipment, 
insurance, freight, and risk of diseases, to 
have their flesh melted from their ribs like 
a cook’s candle! ”’ 

‘‘Hre no’tin done in all ’e island, but a 
color’ man do him! He do a mischief, 
and he do all a work, too! I won’er 
what color massa t’ink war Captain 
Kidd ? ’’ 

‘‘ Black or white, he was a rank rogue ; 
and you see the end he came to. I war- 
rant you, now, that water-thief began his 
iniquities by riding the neighbors’ horses 
at night. His fate should be a warning 
to every nigger in the colony. The imps 
of darkness! The English have no such 
scarcity of rogues at home, that they could 
not spare us the pirate to hang up on one 
of the islands, as a scarecrow tothe blacks 
.of Manhattan.”’ 

“Well, I t’ink ’e sight do a white man 
some good, too,’’ returned Euclid, who 
had all the pertinacity of a spoiled Dutch 
negro, singularly blended with affection 
for him in whose service he had been born. 
«‘T hear ebberybody say, ’ere war’ but two 
color’ man in he ship, an ’em both war’ 
Guinea-born.”’ 

‘A modest tongue, thou midnight 
scamperer! look to my geldings. Here 
—here are two Dutch florins, three stivers, 
and a Spanish pistareen for thee; one of 
the florins is for thy old mother, and with 
the others thou canst lighten thy heart in 
tke Paus merry-making: if 1 hear that 
either of thy rascally cousins, or the En- 
~ gtish Diomede, has put a leg across beast 
of mine, it will be the worse for all Africa ! 
Famine and skeletons! Here have I been 
seven years trying to fatten the nags, and 
they still look more like weasles than a 
pair of solid geldings.”’ 

The close of this speech was rather 
muttered in the distance, and by way of 
soliloquy, than actually administered to 
the namesake of the great mathematician. 
The air of the negro had been a little 
equivocal during the parting admonition. 
There was an evident struggle in his mind 
between an innate love of disobedience 
and a secret dread of his master’s means 


Do they think | of information. 


The substantial burgher 


505 


So long as the latter con- 
tinued in sight, the black watched his 
form in doubt; and when it had turned a 
corner he stood at a gaze for a moment, 
with a negro on a neighboring stoop: 
then both shook their heads significantly, 
laughed aloud, and retired. That night 
the confidential servant attended to the 
interests of his absent master with a fi- 
delity and care which proved that he felt 
his own existence identified with that of 
aman who claimed so close a right in his 
own person ; and just as the clock struck 
ten, he and the negro last mentioned 
mounted the sluggish and ove*ffattened 
horses, and galloped as hard as foot could ~ 
be laid to the earth, several miles deeper 
into the island, to attend a frolic at one of 
the usual haunts of the people of their 
color and condition. 

Had Alderman Myndert Van Beverout 
suspected the calamity which was so soon 
to succeed his absence, it is probable that 
his mien would have been less composed, 
as he pursued his way from his own door, 
on the occasion named. That he had con- 
fidence in the virtue of his menaces, how- 
ever, may beinferred from the tranquillity 
which immediately took possession of feat- 
ures that were never disturbed without 
wearing an appearance of unnatural effort. 
was a little 
turned of fifty; and an English wag who 
had imported from the mother country a 
love for the humor of his nation, had once, 
in a conflict of wits before the city council, 
described him to be a man of alliterations. 
When called upon to explain away this 
breach of parliamentary decorum, the 
punster had got rid of the matter by de- 
scribing his opponent to be ‘* short, solid, 
and sturdy in stature; full, flushed, and 
funny in face ; and proud, ponderous, and 
pragmatical in propensities.’’ But, as is 
usual, in all sayings of effort, there was 
more smartness than truth in this descrip- 
tion, though, after making a trifling 
allowance for the coloring of political 
rivalry, the reader may receive its phys- 
ical portion as sufficiently descriptive to 
answer all the necessary purposes of this 
tale. If we add, that he was a trader of 
great wealth and shrewdness, and a 


506 


bachelor, we need say no more in this 
stage of the narrative. 

Notwithstanding the early hour at 
which this industrious and flourishing 
merchant quitted his abode, his move- 
ment along the narrow streets of his 
native town was measured and dignified. 
More than once he stopped to speak to 
some favorite family-servant, invariably 
terminating his inquiries after the health 
of the master, by some facetious observa- 
tion adapted to the habits and capacity of 
the slave. From this it would seem that, 
while he had so exaggerated notions of 
domestié discipline, the worthy burgher 
was far from being one who indulged, by 
inclination, in the menaces he has been 
heard to utter. He had just dismissed 
one of those loitering negroes, when, on 
turning a corner, a man of his own color, 
for the first time that morning, suddenly 
stood before him. The startled citizen 
made an involuntary movement to avoid 
the unexpected interview, and then, per- 
ceiving the difficulty of such a step, he 
submitted, with as good a grace as if it 
had been one of his own seeking. 

‘«‘The orb of day—the morning gun— 
and Mr. Alderman Van Beverout!’’ ex- 
claimed the individual encountered. 
‘‘Such is the order of events, at this 
early hour, on each successive revolution 
of our earth.’’ 

The countenance of the Alderman had 
barely time to recover its composure, ere 
he was required to answer to this free and 
somewhat facetious salutation. Uncover 
ing his head, he bowed so ceremoniously 
as to leave the other no reason to exult in 
his pleasantry, as he answered : 

‘The colony has reason to regret the 
services of a governor who can quit his 
bed so soon. That we of business habits 
stir betimes is quite in reason; but there 
are those in this town, who would scarce 
believe their eyes, did they enjoy my 
present happiness.”’ 

‘‘Sir, there are many in this colony, 
who have great reason to distrust their 
senses, though none can be mistaken in 
believing they seein Alderman Van Beve- 
rout a well-employed man. He that deal- 
eth in the produce of the beaver must 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


have the animal’s perseverance and fore- 
thought! Now, were I king-at-arms, — 
there should be a concession made in thy 
favor, Myndert, of a shield bearing the 
animal mordant, a mantle of fur, with two 
Mohawk hunters for supporters, and. the 
motto, ‘ Industry.’ ’’ 

“Or what think you, my lord,’’ re- 
turned the other, who did not more than 
half relish the pleasantry of his companion, 
‘‘of a spotless field for a clear conscience, 
with an open hand for a crest, and the 
motto, ‘ Frugality and Justice ?’ ”’ 

‘‘T like the open hand, though the con- 
ceit is pretending. I see you would inti- 
mate that the Van Beverouts have not 
need, at this late day, to search a herald’s 
office for honors. JI remember, now I be- 
think me, on some occasion to have seen 
their bearings, a windmill, courant; dyke, 
coulant; field, vert, sprinkled with black 
cattle—No ! then memory is treacherous : 
the morning air is pregnant with food for 
the imagination !”’ pie 

‘¢ Which is not a coin to satisfy a credi- 
tor, my lord,’’ said the caustic Myndert. 

<‘ Therein has truth been pithily spoken. 
This is an ill judged step, Alderman Van 
Beverout, that lets a gentleman out by 
night, like the ghost in Hamlet, to flee 
into the narrow house with the crowing of 
the cock. The ear of my royal cousin 
hath been poisoned, worse than was the 
ear of ‘murdered Denmark,’ or the parti- 
sans of this Mister Hunter would have 
little cause to triumph.’? 

‘‘Ts it not possible to give such pledges 
to those who have turned the key, as will 
enable your lordship to apply the anti- 
dote ? ”’ 

The question struck a chord that 
changed the whole manner of the other. 
His air, which had borne the character of 
a genteel trifler, became more grave and 
dignified ; and notwithstanding there was 
the evidence of a reckless disposition in 
his features, dress and carriage, his tall 
and not ungraceful form, as he walked 
slowly onward, by the side of the compact 
alderman, was not without much of that 
insinuating ease and blandishment, which 
long familiaity with good company can 
give even to the lowest moral worth. 


THE. WATER-WITCH. 


«<Your question, worthy sir, manifests | 


great goodness of heart, and corroborates 
that reputation for generosity the world 
so freely gives. It is true that the Queen 
has been persuaded to sign the man- 
date of my recall, and it is certain that 
Mr. Hunter has the government of the 
colony ; but these are facts that might 
be reversed, were I once in a position to 
approach my kinswoman. I do not dis- 
claim certain indiscretions, sir; it would 
ill become me to deny them, in presence 
of one whose virtue is as severe as that of 
Alderman Van Beverout. I have my 
feelings : perhaps, as you have just been 
pleased to intimate, it would have been 


_ better had my motto been frugality ; but 


the open hand, dear sir, is a part of the 
design you will not deny me, either. If 
I have weaknesses, my enemies cannot 
refuse to say that I never yet deserted a 
friend.”’ 

‘‘Not having had occasion to tax your 
friendship, I shall not be the first to make 
this charge.”’ 

«Your impartiality has come to be a 
proverb! ‘As honest as Alderman Van 
Beverout,’ ‘As generous as Alderman 
Van Beyverout,’ are terms in each man’s 
mouth; some say ‘as rich’ (the small 
blue eyes of the burgher twinkled). But 
honesty, and riches, and generosity are of 
little value without influence. Menshould 
have their natural consideration in society. 
Now is the colony rather Dutch than En- 
glish, and yet, you see, how few names 
are found in the list of the council, that 
have been known in the province half a 
century! Here are your Alexanders and 
Heathcotes, your Morrises and Kennedies, 
De Lanceys and Livingstons, filling the 
council and the legislative halls; but we 
find few of the Van Rensselaers, Van 
Courtlandts, Van Schuylers, Stuyvesants, 
Van Beekmans, and Van Beverouts, in 
their natural stations. All nations and 
religions have precedency, in the royal 
favor, over the children of the Patriarchs. 
The Bohemian Felipses ; the Huguenot De 
Lanceys, and Bayards, and Jays; the king- 
hating Morrises and Ludlows—all have 
greater estimation in the eyes of govern- 
ment, than the most ancient Patroon!’’ 


4 


507 


‘This has long and truly been the case. 
I cannot remember when it was other- 
wise ! ”’ 

“It may not be denied. But it would 


little become political discretion to affect 
precipitancy in the judgment of character. 


If my own administration can be stigma- 


tized with the same apparent prejudice, it 
proves the clearer how strong is misrep- 


resentation at home. Time was wanting 


to enlighten my mind, and that time has 
been refused me. 
worthy sir, the council should have been 
filled with Vans!’ 


In another year, my 


«Tn such a case, my lord, the unhappy 
condition in which you are now placed 
might indeed have been avoided.’’ 

‘<Ts it too late to arrest the evil? It is 
time Anne had been undeceived, and her 
mind regained. There wanteth nothing 
to such a consummation of justice, sir, but 
opportunity. It touches me to the heart 
to think that this disgrace should befall 
one so near the royal blood! ’Tis a spot 
on the escutcheon of the crown that all 
loyal subjects must feel desirous to efface, 
and so small an effort would effect the ob- 
ject, too, with certain—Mr. Alderman 
Myndert Van Beverout ?”’ 

‘«‘ My lord, late governor,’’ returned the 
other, observing that his companion hesi- 
tated. 

«What think you of this Hanoverian 
settlement ? Shall a German wear the 
crown of a Plantagenet ? ”’ 

‘Tt hath been worn by a Hollander.”’ 

«‘ Aptly answered. Worn, and worn 
worthily ! There is affinity between the 
people, and there is reason in that reply. 
How have I failed in wisdom, in not seek- 
ing earlier the aid of thy advice, excellent 
sir! Ah, Myndert, there is a blessing on 
the enterprise of all who come of the Low 
Countries !”’ 

«They are industrious to earn, and slow 
to squander.”’ 

«That expenditure is the ruin of many 
a worthy subject! And yet accident— 
chance—fortune—or whatever you may 
choose to call it, interferes nefariously at 
times with a gentleman’s prosperity. I 
am an adorer of constancy in friendship, 
sir, and hold the principle that men should 


508 


aid each other through this dark vale of | cal, should belong to gentlemen of that 


life—Mr. Alderman Van Beverout ? ”’ 

‘My Lord Cornbury ? ”’ 

**T was about to say, that should I quit 
the Province without expressing part of 
the regret I feel at not having sooner as- 
certained the merits of its original own- 
ers, and your own in particular, I should 
do injustice to sensibilities that are only 
too acute for the peace of him who en- 
dures them.’’ 

“Is there then hope that your lord- 
ship’s creditor will relent, or has the 
earl furnished means to open the prison 
door? ”’ 

«You use the pleasantest terms, sir !— 
but I love directness of language above 
all other qualities. No doubt the prison 
door, as you have so clearly expressed it, 
might be opened, and lucky would be the 
man who should turn the key. I am 
pained when I think of the displeasure of 
the Queen, which, sooner or later, will 
surely visit my luckless persecutors. On 
the other hand I find relief in thinking of 
the favor she will extend to those who 
have proved my friends in such a strait. 
They that wear crowns love not to see 
disgrace befall the meanest of their blood, 
for something of the taint may sully even 
the ermine of Majesty. Mr. Alderman ?’’ 

‘My Lord ? ”’ 

‘* How fare the Flemish geldings ? ”’ 

‘‘Bravely, and many thanks, my lord; 
the rogues are as fat as butter! There is 
hope of a little rest for the innocent, since 
business calls me to the Lust in Rust. 
There should be a law, lord governor, to 
gibbet the black that rides a beast at 
night.”’ 

*‘T bethought of some condign punish- 
ment for so heartless a crime, but there is 
little hope for it under the administration 
of this Mr. Hunter. Yes, sir, were I once 
more in the presence of my royal cousin, 
there would quickly be an end to this 
delusion, and the colony should be once 
more restored toa healthful state. The 
men of a generation should cease to lord 
it over the men of a century. But we 
must be wary of letting our design, dear 
sir, get wind; it is a truly Dutch idea, 
and the profits, both pecuniary and politi- 


WORKS OF . FENIMORE COOPER. 


descent—my dear Van Beverout ?”’ 

‘* My good lord? ” 

“Is the blooming Alida obedient ? Trust — 
me, there has no family event occurred 
during my residence in the colony, in 
which I have taken a nearer interest than — 
in that desirable connection. The wooine — 
of the young Patroon of Kinderhook is an © 
affair of concern to the province. Itisa 
meritorious youth ! ”’ 

‘‘ With an excellent estate, my lord!”’ 

‘* And a gravity beyond his years.”’ 

‘‘T would give a guarantee, at a risk, 
that two-thirds of his income go to in- 
crease the capital, at the beginning of 
each season ? ”’ 

‘* He seems a man to live on air! ”’ 

‘‘My old friend, the last Patroon, left 
noble assets,’’? continued the alderman, 
rubbing his hands, ‘‘ besides the manor.’”’ 

‘‘Which is no paddock !”’ 

“It reaches from the Hudson to the 
line of Massachusetts. A hundred thou- 
sand acres of hill and bottom, and well 
peopled by frugal Hollanders.’’ 

‘* Respectable in possession, and a mine 
of gold in reversion! Such men, sir, 
should be cherished. We owe it to his 
station to admit him to a share of this our 
project to undeceive the queen. How 
superior are the claims of such a gentle- 
man to the empty pretensions of your 
Captain Ludlow! ” 

‘‘He has truly a very good and improy- 
ing estate ! ”’ 

‘These Ludlows, sir, people that fled 
the realm for plotting against the crown, 
are offensive to a loyal subject. Indeed, 
too much of this objection may be imputed 
to many in the province, that come of 
English blood. I am_ sorry to say that 
they are fomenters of discord, disturbers 
of the public mind, and captious disputants 
about prerogatives and vested rights. But 
there is a repose in the Dutch character 
which lends it dignity! The descendants — 
of the Hollanders are men to be counted — 
on; where we leave them to-day we see 
them to-morrow. As we say in politics‘ 
sir, we know where to find them. Does it 
not seem to you particularly offensive 
that this Captain Ludlow should com- 


ae ae eS ee ee ee! 


a 


a oa 


THE WATEHR-WITCH. 


mand the only royal cruiser on the 
station ?”’ | 

<«“T should like it better, my lord, were 
he to servein Europe,” returned the alder- 
man, glancing a look behind him, and 
lowering his voice. ‘‘ There was lately a 
rumor that his ship wasin truth to be sent 
among the islands.”’ 

‘«Matters are getting very wrong, most 
worthy sir; and the greater the necessity 
there should be one at court to undeceive 
the queen. Innovators should be made to 
give way to men whose names are histori- 
cal in the colony.”’ 

<<?Twould be no worse for her Majesty’s 
credit.”’ 

«<*Twould be another jewelin her crown ! 
Should this Captain Ludlow actually 
marry your niece, the family would alto- 
gether change its character—l have the 
worst memory—thy mother, Myndert, 
was a—a——”’ 

«The pious woman wasa Van Busser.”’ 

‘The union of thy sister with the 
Huguenot then reduces the fair Alida to 
the quality of a half-blood. The Lud- 
low connection would destroy the leaven 
of the race! I think the man is penni- 
less !”’ 

«T cannot say that, my lord, for I would 
not willingly injure the credit of my worst 
enemy; but, though wealthy, he is far 
~ from having the estate of the young Pa- 
troon of Kinderhook.”’ 

‘‘He should indeed be sent into the 
Indies—Myndert ! ”’ 

“My lord? ”’ 

<‘Tt would be unjust to my sentiments 
in favor of Mr. Oloff Van Staats, were 
we to exclude him from the advantages of 
our project. This much shall I exact from 
your friendship, in his favor; the neces- 
sary sum may be divided, in moieties, be- 
tween you; a common bond shall render 
the affair compact; and then, as we shall 
be masters of our own secret, there can be 
little doubt of the prudence of our meas- 
ures. The amount is written in this bit 
of paper.” 

‘<Two thousand pounds, my lord !”’ 

‘*Pardon me, my dear sir; not a penny 
more than one for each of you. Justice 
to Van Staats requires that you let him 


509 


into the affair. Were it not for the suit 
with your niece, | should take the young 
gentleman with me, to push his fortune at 
court.”’ 

‘‘Truly, my lord, this greatly exceeds 
my means. The high prices for furs the 
last season, and delays in returns, have 
placed a seal upon our silver——”’ 

««The premium would be high.”’ 

‘Coin is getting so scarce daily that 
the face of a Carolus is almost as great a 
stranger as the face of a debtor ig 

‘¢The returns certain.”’ 

«‘ While every one’s creditors meet him 
at every corner 

‘The concern would be 
Dutch.”’ 

‘¢ And last advices from Holland tell us 
to reserve our gold for some extraordi- 
nary movements in the commercial 
world.”’ 

«Mr. Alderman Myndert Van Beve- 
rout ! ”’ 

«“My Lord Viscount Cornbury !”’ 

‘Plutus preserve thee, sir—but have a 
care; though I scent the morning air, and 
must return, it is not forbid to tell the 
secrets of my prison-house. There is one 
in yonder case who whispers that the 
Skimmer of the Seas is on the coast! Be 
wary, worthy burgher, or the second part 
of the tragedy of Kidd may be yet enacted 
in these seas.”’ 

<‘T leave such transactions to my su- 
periors,’’ retorted the Alderman, with 
another stiff and ceremonious bow. ‘‘ En- 
terprises that are said to have occupied 
the Earl of Bellamont, Governor Fletcher, 
and my Lord Cornbury, are above the 
ambition of an humble merchant.”’ 

<«*¢ Adieu, tenacious sir; quiet thine im- 
patience for the extraordinary Dutch 
movements! ’’ said Cornbury, affecting to 
laugh, though he secretly felt the sting 
the other had applied, since common re- 
port implicated not only him, but his two 
official predecessors, in several of the law- 
less proceedings of the American buc- 
caneers. ‘‘ Be vigilant, or la demoiselle 
Barberie will give another cross to the 
purity of the stagnant pool !”’ 

The bows that were exchanged were 
strictly in character. The Alderman was 


altogether 


510 


unmoved, rigid, and formal, while his com- 
panion could not forget his ease of manner, 
even at a moment of so much vexation. 
Foiled in an effort that nothing but his 
desperate condition, and nearly desperate 
character, could have induced him to at- 
tempt, the degenerate descendant of the 
virtuous Clarendon walked toward his 
place of confinement with the step of one 
who assumed a superiority over his fel- 


lows, and yet with a mind so indurated by | 


habitual depravity as to have left~ it 
scarcely the trace of a dignified or virtu- 
ous quality. 


CHAPTER II. 


“His words are bonds, his oaths are orders; 
His love sincere, his thoughts immaculate.’’ 
—Two GENTLEMEN OF VERONA. 


THE philosophy of Alderman Van Beve- 
rout was not easily disturbed. Still there 
was a play of the nether muscles of the 
face, which might be construed into self- 
complacency, at his victory, while a cer- 
tain contraction of those which controlled 
the expression of the forehead seemed to 
betray a full consciousness of the im- 
minent risk he had run. The left hand 
was thrust into a pocket, where it dili- 
gently fingered the provision of Spanish 
coin without which the merchant never 
left his abode ; while the other struck the 
cane it held on the pavement, with the 
force of a resolute and decided man. In 
this manner he proceeded in his walk for 
several minutes longer, shortly quitting 
the lower streets, to enter one that ran 
along the ridge which crowned the land in 
that quarter of the island. Here he soon 
stopped. before the door of a house which, 
in that provincial town, had altogether 
the air of a patrician dwelling. 

Two false gables, each of which was 
surmounted by an _ iron weathercock, 
intersected the roof of this building, and 
the high and narrow stoop was built of 
the red freestone of the country. The 
material of the edifice itself, was, as usual, 
the small, hard brick of Holland, painted 
a delicate cream color. ° 

A single blow of the massive glittering 
knocker brought a servant to the door. 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 4% 


The promptitude with which the sum- 
mons was answered showed that, not- 
withstanding the early hour, the Alder- 
man was an expected guest. The counte- 
nance of him who acted as porter betrayed 
no surprise when he saw the person who 
applied for admission, and every move- 
ment of the black denoted preparation 
and readiness for his reception. Declining 
his invitation to enter, however, the Alder- — 
man placed his back against the iron rail- 
ings of the stoop, and opened a discourse 
with the negro. The latter was aged, 4 
with a grizzled head, a nose that was 
leveled nearly to the plane of his face, 
features that were wrinkled and confused, $ 
and with a form which, though still solid, — 
was bending with its load of years. 
‘“‘ Brave cheer to thee, old Cupid !??com- 
menced the burgher, in the hearty and ; 
cordial manner with which the masters of _ 
that period were wont to address their in- 
dulged slaves. ‘A clear conscience is a 
good night-cap, and you look bright as ; 
the morning sun! I hope my friend the 
young Patroon has slept sound as your: 
self, and that he has shown his face al- 
ready to prove it.”’ | | 
The negro answered with the slow, 


clipping manner that characterized his j 
condition and years. | ' 

“‘He’m werry wakeful, Massa Aler- — 
man. I t’ink he no sleep half the time _ 


lately. All he a’tiverty and wiwacerty — 
gone, an’ he do no single t’ing but smoke. 
A gentle’um who smoke alway, Massa — 
AVerman, get to be a melercholy man at— 
last. Ido t’ink ere be one young lady in — 
York who be he deat’ some time !”’ 

“We'll find the means to get the pipe — 
out of his mouth,”’ said the other, looking — 
askance at the black, asif to express more 
than he uttered. “Romance and pretty 
girls play the deuce with our philosophy 
in youth, as thou knowest by experience, _ 
old Cupid.”’ i= 

‘‘T no good for anyt’ing dat-a-way now, 
not’ing,’’ calmly returned the black. ‘I 
See a one time when few color’t man in 
York had more respect among a fair sec’, 
but dat a great while gone by. Now de 
modder of your Euclid, Massa AVerman, 
war young herself, and I used to visit at 


od sl 
ap 
az 
x 
x * 


THE 


WATER-WITCH. 


511 


de al’erman’s fadder’s; afore a English | Der’ war ’e time a ferry-boat go down, 


come, and when ole Patroon war a young 
man. Golly! I great affection for Euclid, 
do’ a young dog nebber come anear me!”’ 

“He’s a blackguard! My back is no 
sooner turned than the rascal’s atop of 
one of his master’s geldings.”’ 

‘““He’m werry young, Massa Myn’ert; 
no one get wis’om ’fore a gray hair.” 

‘‘He’s forty, every minute; and the 
rogue gets impudence with his years. 
Age is a reverend and respectable condi- 
tion when it brings gravity and thought ; 
but, if a young fool be tiresome, an old 
fool is contemptible. Tll warrant me, you 
never were so thoughtless, or so heartless, 
Cupid, as to ride an overworked beast at 
night.’’ 

«Well, I get pretitiy ole, Massa Myn’ert, 
and | forget all he do when a young man. 
But here be’e Patroon, who know how to 
tell ’e Al’erman such t’ing better than a 
poor color’ slave.’’ 

<‘ A fair rising and a lucky day to you, 
Patroon,’’ cried the alderman, saluting a 
large, slow-moving gentlemanly-looking 
young man of five-and-twenty, who ad- 
vanced with the gravity of one of twice 
that number of years, from the interior of 
the house toward its outer door. ‘The 
winds are bespoken, and here is as fine a 
day as ever shone out of a clear sky, 
whether it came from the pure atmosphere 
of Holland or of old England itself. Col- 
onies and patronage! If the people on 
the other side of the ocean had more faith 
in mother Nature, and less opinion of 
themselves, they would find it very toler- 
able breathing in the plantations. But 
the conceited rogues are like the man who 
blew the bellows, and fancied he made the 
music ; and there is never a hobbling imp 
of them all, but he believes he is straighter 
and sounder than the best in the colonies. 
Here is our bay, now, aS smooth as if it 
were shut in with twenty dykes, and the 
voyage will be as safe as if it were made 
on a canal.’’ 

*“Dat werry well, if ’a do it,’? grumbled 
Cupid, who busied himself affectionately 
about the person of his master; “I t’ink 
it alway better to travel on ’e land, when 
a gentle’um owns so much as Massa Oloff. 


wid crowd of people; and nobody ever 
come up again to say how he feel.”’ 

‘‘Here is some mistake,’’ interrupted 
the Alderman, throwing an uneasy glance 
at his young friend. ‘‘I count four-and- 
fifty years and remember no such calam- 
ity.”’ 

‘“‘He’m werry sing’lar how a young 
folk do forget! ’EKre war drown six 
people in dat werry boat. A two Yankee, 
a Canada Frenchman, and a poor woman 
from a Jarseys. Eberybody war werry 
sorry for a poor woman from a Jarseys !”’ 

“Thy tally is false, Master Cupid,’’ 
promptly rejoined the Alderman, who was 
rather expert at figures. ‘“‘Two Yankees, 
a Frenchman, and your Jersey woman, 
make but four.” 

‘Well, den, I s’pose ’ere war one Yan- 
kee; but I know all were drown, for ’e 
gubnor lose he fine coach-horses in dat 
werry boat.”’ 

<‘The old fellow is right, sure enough ; 
for I remember the calamity of the horses, 
as if it were but yesterday. But Death is 
monarch of the earth, and none of us may 
hope to escape his scythe when the ap- 
pointed hour shall come! Here are no 
nags to lose to-day; and we may com- 
mence our voyage, Patroon, with cheerful 
faces and light hearts. Shall we pro- 
ceed ? ”’ 

Oloff Van Staats, or the Patroon of 
Kinderhook, as by the courtesy of the 
colony he was commonly termed, did not 
want for personal firmness. On the con- 
trary, like most of those who were de- 
scended from the Hollanders, he was 
rather distinguished for steadiness in dan- 
ger, and obstinacy in resistance. The 
little skirmish which had just taken place 
between his friend and his slave, had pro- 
ceeded from their several apprehensions ; 
the one feeling a sort of parental. interest 
in his safety, and the other having par- 
ticular reasons for wishing him to perse- 
vere in his intention to embark, instead of 
any justifiable cause in the character of 
the young proprietor himself. A sign to 
the boy who bore his portmanteau settled 
the controversy, when Mr. Van Staats in- 
timated his readiness to move. 


B12 


Cupid lingered on the stoop until his | been a barren investment—great jeopardy 


master had turned a corner; then, shak- 
ing his head with all the misgivings of an 
ignorant and superstitious mind, he drove 
the young fry of blacks, who thronged 
the door, into the house, closing all after 
him with scrupulous care. How far the 
presentiment of the black was warranted 
by the event will be seen in the course of 
the narrative. 

The wide avenue in which Oloff Van 
Staats lived was but a few hundred yards 
in length. It terminated at one end with 
the fortress, and at the other it was 
crossed by a high stockade, which bore 
the name of the city walls; a defense that 
was provided against any sudden irrup- 
tion of the Indians, who then hunted, and 
even dwelt in some numbers, in the lower 
counties of the colony. 

It requires great familiarity with the 
growth of the town to recognize, in this 
description, the noble street that runs for 
a league through the center of the island. 
From this avenue which was then, as it is 
still, called the Broadway, our adventur- 
ers descended into a lower quarter of the 
town, holding free converse by the way. 

“That Cupid is a negro to keep the 
roof on a house in its master’s absence, 
Patroon,’’ observed the Alderman, soon 
after they had left the stoop. ‘‘ He looks 
like a padlock, and one might sleep with- 
out a dream with such a guardian near 
his dwelling. I wish I had brought the 
honest fellow the key of my stable.’’ 

*“T have heard my father say that the 
keys of his own were always better under 
his own pillow,’’ coolly replied the pro- 
prietor of a hundred thousand acres. 

«Ah, the curse of Cain! It is useless 
to look for the fur of a martin on the 
back of acat. But, Mr. Van Staats, 
while walking to your door this morning, 
it was my fortune to meet the late ZOv- 
ernor, who is permitted by his creditors 


to take the air at an hour when he thinks | 


the eyes of the impertinent will be shut. 
I believe, Patroon, you were so lucky as 
to get back your moneys before the royal 
displeasure visited this man ?”’ 
‘‘T was so lucky as never to trust him.”’ 
“That was better; still it would have 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


to principal, and no return. But we had ; 
discourses of various interests; and, 
among others, something was hazarded 
concerning your amatory pretensions to 
my niece.”’ 

‘* Neither the wishes of Oloff Van Staats 
nor the inclination of la belle Barberie, are 
a subject for the governor in council,” 
said Patroon of Kinderhook, stiffly. 

‘‘Nor was it thus treated. The viscount 
spoke me fair, and had he not pushed the 
matter beyond discretion, we might have 
come to happier conclusions.”’ 

‘‘Tam glad there was some restraint in 
the discourse.”” > 

‘The man exceeded reason, for he led — 
the conference into personalities that no 
prudent man could relish. Still, he said 
that it was possible that the Coquette 
might yet be ordered for service among 
the islands !”’ 

It has been said that Oloff Van Staats 
was a fair, personable young man of vast 
stature and with much the air of a gentle- 
man of his country ; for, though a British | 
subject, he was rather a Hollander, in 
feelings, habits and opinions. He colored 
at the allusion to the presence of his known 
rival, though his companion was at loss to 
discover whether pride or vexation was at 
the bottom of his emotion. 

“‘If Captain Ludlow prefers a cruise in 
the Indies to duty on this coast, I hope he 
may obtain his wish,’? was the cautious 
answer. 

““Your liberal man enjoys a sounding — 
name and an empty coffer,’’ observed the — 
Alderman dryly. ‘‘To me it seems that a 
petition to the admiral to send so meri- 
torious an officer on service where he may 
distinguish himself, should deserve his 
thanks. The freebooters are playing the 
devil’s game with the sugar trade, and 
even the French are getting troublesome 
farther south.’’ 

‘He has certainly the reputation of an 
active cruiser.”’ 

**Blixum and philosophy ! If you wish 
to succeed with Alida, Patroon, you must 
put more briskness into the adventure. 
The girl has a cross of the Frenchman in 
her temper, and none of your deliberations 


re 
Ler] 
( ; 


and taciturnities will gain the day. The 
visit to the Lust in Rust is Cupid’s own 
handiwork, and I hope to see you both 
return to town as amicable as the Stadt- 
holder and the State General, after a 
sharp struggle for the year’s subsidy has 
been settled by a compromise.”’ 

«The success of this suit is the affair 
nearest my—’’? The young man paused, 
as if surprised at his own communicative- 
ness ; and, taking advantage of the haste 
in which his toilet had been made, he 
thrust his hand into his vest, covering with 
his broad palm a portion of the human 
frame which poets do not describe as the 
seat of the passions. 

““If you mean stomach, sir, you will 
not have reason to be disappointed,’’ re- 
torted the Alderman, a little more severely 
than was usual with one so cautious. 
«‘The heiress of Myndert Van Beverout 
will not be a penniless bride, and Mon- 
sieur Barberie did not close the books of 
life without taking good care of the 
balance-sheet —but yonder are those 
devils of ferrymen quitting the wharf 
without us! Scamper ahead, Brutus, and 
tell them to wait the legal minute. The 
rogues are never exact ; sometimes start- 
ine before I am ready, and sometimes 
keeping me waiting in the sun, as if I 
were no better than a sunfish. Punctu- 
ality is the soul of business, and one of my 
habits does not like to be ahead nor be- 
hind time.”’ 

In this manner the worthy burgher, 
who would have been glad to regulate 
the movements of others, on all occasions, 
a good deal by his own, vented his com- 
plaints, while he and his companion hur- 
ried on to overtake the slowing-moving 
boat in which they were to embark. A 
brief description of the scene will not be 
without interest to a generation that may 
be termed modern in reference to the time 
of which we write. 

A deep, narrow creek penetrated the 
island at this point, for the distance of a 
quarter of a mile. Each of its banks had 
a row of buildings, as the houses line a 
canal in the cities of Holland. As the 
course of the inlet was necessarily re- 
spected, the street had taken a curva- 

IV.—l7 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


513 


ture not unlike that of a new moon. The 
houses were ultra-Dutch, being low, an- 
gular, fastidiously neat, and all erected 
with gables to the street. Each had its 
ugly and inconvenient entrance, termed a 
stoop, its vane or weathercock, its dor- 
mer-windows, and its graduated battle- 
ment-walls. Near the apex of one of the 
latter, a little iron crane projected into 
the street. A small boat, of the same 
metal, swung from its end, a sign that 
the building to which it was appended 
was the ferry- house. 

An inherent love of artificial and. con- 
fined navigation had probably induced the 
burghers to select this spot as the place. 
whence so many craft departed from the 
town; since it is certain that the two 
rivers could have furnished divers points 
more favorable for such an object, inas- 
much as they possess the advantage of 
wide and unobstructed channels. 

Fifty blacks were already in the street, 
dipping their brooms into the creek, and 
flourishing water over the sidewalks, and 
on the fronts of the low edifices. This 
light, but daily duty was relieved by clam- 
orous collisions of wit, and by shouts of 
merriment, in which the whole. street 
would join, as with one joyous and reck- 
less movement of the spirit. 

The language of this light-hearted and * 
noisy race was Dutch, already corrupted 
by English idioms, and occasionally by 
English words; a system of change that 
has probably given rise to an opinion, 


among some of the descendants of the 


earlier colonists, that the latter tongue 
is merely a patois of the former. This 
opinion, which so much resembles that 
which certain well-read English scholars 
entertained of the plagiarisms of the con- 
tinental writers, when they first began to 
dip into their works, is not strictly true ; 
since the language of England has prob- 
ably bestowed as much on the dialect of 
which we speak, as it has ever received 
from the purer scurces of the school of 
Holland. Here and there a grave burgher, 
still in his night-cap, might be seen with a 
head thrust out of an upper window, lis- 
tening to these barbarisms of speech, and 
taking note of allthe merry jibes that flew 


514 


from mouth to mouth, with an indomita- 
ble gravity that no levity of those beneath 
could undermine. 

As the movement of the ferry-boat was 
necessarily slow, the Alderman and his 
companion were enabled to step into it 
_ before the fasts were thrown aboard. The 
periagua, as the craft was called, partook 
of a Kuropean and an American character. 
It possessed the length, narrowness and 
clean bow of the canoe, from which its 
name was derived, with the flat bottom 
and lee-boards of a boat constructed for 
the shallow waters of the Low Countries. 
Twenty years ago vessels of this descrip- 
tion abounded in our rivers, and even now 
their two long and unsupported masts, 
and high narrow-headed sail, are daily 
seen bending like reeds to the breeze and 
dancing lightly over the billows of the 
bay. 

There is a variety of the class of a size 
and pretension altogether superior to that 
just mentioned, which deserves a place 
among the most picturesque and striking 
boats float. He who has had occasion 
to navigate the southern shore of the 
Sound must have often seen the vessel to 
which we allude. It is distinguished by 
its great length, and masts which, naked 
of cordage, rise from the hull like two tall 
~ and faultless trees. When the eye runs 
over the daring height of the canvas, the 
noble confidence of the rig, and sees the 
comparatively vast machine handled with 
ease and grace by the dexterity of two 
fearless and expert mariners, it excites 
some such admiration as that which 
springs from the view of a severe temple 
of antiquity. The nakedness and simplic- 
ity of the construction, coupled with the 
boldness and rapidity of its movements, 
impart to the craft an air of grandeur 
that its ordinary uses would not give 
reason to expect. 

Though, in some respects, of site wlals 
‘aquatic habits, the original colonists of 
New York were far less adventurous, as 
mariners, than their present descendants. 
A passage across the bay did not often oc- 
cur in the tranquil lives of the burghers ; 
and it is still within’ the memory of man, 
that a voyage between the two principal 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


towns of the State was an event to excite 
the solicitude of friends, and the anxiety 
of the traveler. 
Zee, aS one of the wider reaches of the 
Hudson is still termed, were often dealt 
with by the good wives of the colony, in 
their relations of marvels; and she who 
had oftenest encountered them unharmed, 
was deemed a sort of marine amazon. 


CHAPTER III. 


‘‘T have great comfort from this fellow ; methinks 
he hath no drowning mark upon him: his complex- 
ion is perfect gallows.’’—TEMPEST. 


It has been said that the periagua 
was in motion before our two adventur- 
ers succeeded in stepping on board. The 
arrival of the Patroon of Kinderhook and 
of the Alderman Van Beverout was ex- 
pected, and the skipper had taken his de- 
parture at the precise moment of the turn 
in the current, in order to show, with a 
sort of pretending independence which has 
a peculiar charm for men in his situation, 
that ‘‘Time and tide wait for no man.’’ 
Still there were limits to his decision ; for, 
while he put the boat in motion, especial 
care was taken that the circumstance 
should not subject a customer so impor- 
tant and constant as the Alderman, to any 
serious inconvenience. When he and his 
friend had embarked, the painters were 
thrown aboard, and the crew of the ferry- 
boat began to set their vessel, in earnest, 
toward the mouth of the creek. During 
these movements, a young negro was 
seated in the bow of the periagua, with his 


legs dangling one on each side of the cut- | 


water, forming no bad apology for a fig- 
ure-head. He held a conch to his mouth, 
and with his two glossy cheeks inflated 


like those of Afolus, and his dark, glitter 


ing eyes expressing the delight he found 
in drawing sounds from the shell, he 
continued to give forth the signal for 
departure. 

‘* Put up the conch, thou bawler? ”’ cried 
the Alderman, giving the yonker a rap on 
his naked poll, in passing, with the end of 


his cane, that might have disturbed the 


harmony of one less bent to clamor. ‘A 


The perils of the Tappen 


~ 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


thousand windy trumpeters would be 
silence itself, compared to such a pair of 
lungs! How now, Master Skipper, is this 
your punctuality tostart before your pas- 
Sengers are ready ?”’ 

The undisturbed boatman, without re- 
moving the pipe from his mouth, pointed 
to the bubbles on the water which were 
already floating outward, a certain evi- 
dence that the tide was on the ebb. 

*‘T care nothing for your ins and outs, 
your ebbs and floods,”’ returned the Alder- 
man, in heat. ‘‘ There is no better time- 
piece than the leg and eye of a punctual 
man. It is no more pleasant to go before 
one is ready, than to tarry when all 
business is done. Harkee, Master Skipper, 
you are not the only navigator in this bay. 
nor is your craft the swiftest that was 
ever launched. Havea care; though an 
acquiescing man by nature, I know how to 
encourage an opposition, when the public 
good seriously calls for my support.”’ 

To the attack on himself, the skipper 
was stoically indifferent, but to impeach 
the qualities of the periagua was to attack 
one who depended solely on his eloquence 
for vindication. Removing his pipe, there- 
fore, he rejoined on the Alderman, with 
that sort of freedom that the sturdy Hol- 
landers never failed to use to all offenders, 
regardless alike of rank or personal quali- 
ties. 

‘‘Der wind-gall and alderman,’’ he 
growled, in the dialect of the country; 
“1 should be glad to see the boat in York 
bay that can show the Milkmaid her stern! 
The Mayor and Councilmen had_ better 
order the tide to turn when they please ; 


and then as each man will think of his 


own pleasure, a pretty set of whirl-pools 
they will give us in the harbor !’’ 

The skipper, having delivered himself 
of his sentiments to this effect, resumed 
his pipe, like a man who felt he deserved 
the meed of victory, whether he were to 
receive it or not. 

“It is useless to dispute with an obsti- 
nate man,’’ muttered the Alderman, mak- 
ing his way through vegetable baskets, 
butter-tubs, and all the garniture of a 


-market-boat, to the piace occupied by his 


niece, in the stern sheets. “Good morrow 


to thee, Alida dear; 


515 


early rising will 
make a flower-garden of thy cheeks, and 
the fresh air of the Lust in Rust will give 
even thy roses a deeper bloom.,”’ 

The mollified burgher then saluted the 
cheek whose bloom had been deepened by 
his remark, with a warmth that showed 
he was not without natural affection ; 
touched his hat in return for a low bow 
that he received from an aged white man- 
servant, in a clean but ancient livery ; and 
nodded to a young negress, whose second- 
hand finery sufficiently showed she was a 
personal attendant of the heiress. 

A second glance at Alida de Barberie 
was scarcely necessary to betray her 
mixed descent. From her Norman father, 
a Huguenot of the petite noblesse, she had 
inherited her raven hair, the large, bril- 
liant, coal-black eyes, in which wildness 
was singularly relieved by sweetness, a 
classical and faultless profile, and a form 
which was both taller and more flexible 
than commonly fell to the lot of the dam- 
sels of Holland. From her mother, la 
belle Barberie, as the maiden was often 
playfully turmed, had received a skin fair 
and spotless as the flower of France, and 
a bloom which rivaled the rich tints of an 
evening sky in her native land. Some 
of the embonpoint, for which the sister 
of the Alderman was a little remark- 
able, had descended also to her fairer 
daughter. In Alida, however, this pecul- 
iarity did not exceed the fullness which © 
became her years, rounding her person 
and softening the outlines of her form, 
rather than diminishing its ease and 
grace. These personal advantages were 
embellished by a neat but modest travel- 
ing habit, a little beaver that was shaded 
by a cluster of drooping feathers, and a 
mien that, under the embarrassment of 
her. situation, preserved the happiest 
medium between modesty and pera 
self-possession. 

When Alderman Van Beverout amen 
this fair creature, in whose future happi- 
ness he was fully justified in taking the 
deep interest which he has betrayed in 
some of the opening scenes of this volume, 
he found her engaged in a courteous dlis- 
course with the young man, who was gen- 


516 


erally considered as the one, among the 
numerous pretenders to her favor, who 
was most likely to succeed. Had other 
cause been wanting, this sight alone would 
have been sufficient to restore his good 
humor; and, making a place for himself, 
by quietly dispossessing Francois, the 
domestic of his niece, the persevering 
burgher endeavored to encourage an inter- 
course that he had reason to think must 
terminate in the result he both meditated 
and desired. . 

In the present effort, however, the 
Alderman failed. There is a feeling 
which universally pervades among lands- 
men and landswomen, when they first 
embark on an element to which they are 
strangers, that ordinarily shuts their 
mouths and renders them meditative. In 
the older and more observant travelers, 
it is observation and comparison; while 
with the younger and more susceptible, it 
is very apt to take the character of senti- 
ment. Without stopping to analyze the 
cause or the consequences, in the instance 
of the Patroon and la belle Barberie, it 
will be sufficient to state, that in spite of 
all the efforts of the worthy burgher, who 
had navigated the sluggish creek too often 
to be the subject of any new emotions, his 
youthful companions gradually grew silent 
and thoughtful. Though a celibate in his 
own person, Myndert had not now to learn 
that the infant god as often does his mis- 
chief through this quiet agency as in any 
other manner. He became, therefore, 
mute in his turn, watching the slow move- 
ment of the periagua with as much assidu- 
ity as if he saw his own image on the 
water. 

A quarter of an hour of this character- 
istic, and it is to be inferred, agreeable 
navigation, brought the boat tothe mouth 
of the inlet. 
her into the tide’s-way, and she might be 
said to put forth on her voyage. But 
while the black crew were trimming the 
sails, and making the other necessary 
preparations for departure, a voice was 
heard hailing them from the shore, with 
an order rather than a request, that they 
would stay their movements. 


‘*Hilloa, the periagua!’’ it cried. 


Here a powerful effort forced | 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


‘‘Haul over your head-sheet, and jam _ 


the tiller down into the lap of that com- 
fortable-looking old gentleman. Come; 
bear a hand, my hummers! or your 
horse-race of a craft will get the bit 
into its mouth, and run away with you.” 

This summons produced a pause in the 
movements of the crew. After regarding 
each other, in surprise and admiration, the 
watermen drew the head-sheets over, put 


the helm a-lee, without, however, invading ~ 


the lap of the Alderman, and the boat be- 
came stationary, at the distance of a few 
rods from the shore. While a new pas- 
senger was preparing to come off in a 
yawl, those who awaited his movements 
had leisure to examine his appearance, 
and to form their different surmises con- 
cerning his character. 

It is scarcely necessary to say that the 
stranger was a son of the ocean. He was 
of a firmly knit and active frame, stand- 
ing exactly six feet in his stockings. The 
shoulders, though square, were compact, 
the chest full and high, the limbs round, 
neat and muscular—the whole indicating 
a form in which strength and activity 
were apportioned with the greatest accur- 
acy. A small bullet head was set firmly 
on its broad foundation, and it was thickly 
covered with a mass of brown hair that 
was already a little grizzied. The face 
was that of a man of thirty, and it was 
worthy of the frame, being manly, bold, 
decided, and rather handsome; though it 
expressed little more than high daring, 
perfect coolness, some obstinacy, and a 
certain degree of contempt for others, 
that its owner did not always take the 
trouble to conceal. 


plexions are by nature light and florid. 
remarkable as his person. 
mouthed trousers, all in a spotlessly white 


duck; a material well adapted to the 
season and climate. 


The color was a rich, — 
deep, and uniform red such as much ex- — 
posure is apt to give to men whose com- — 


The dress of this stranger was quite as — 
He wore a 
short pea-jacket, cut tight and tastefully ; — 
a little, low and rakish cap, and full, bell- — 


The first was made — 
without buttons, affording an apology for — 
the use of the rich Indian shawl, that — 
belted his body and kept the garment — 


ie 


' 
“ 
~) 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


tight to his frame. Faultlessly clean 
linen appeared through the opening above, 
and a collar of the same material fell over 
the gay bandanna, which was thrown, 
with a single careless turn, around his 
throat. The latter was a manufacture 
then little known in Europe, and its use 
was almost entirely confined to seamen of 
the long voyage. One of its ends was 
suffered to blow about in the wind, but 
the other was brought down with care 
over the chest, where it was confined, by 
springing the blade of a small knife with 
an ivory handle, in a manner to confine 
the silk to the linen; a sort of breast-pin 
that is even now much used by mariners. 
If we add that light canvas slippers, 
with foul anchors worked in worsteds 
upon their insteps, covered his feet, 
we shall say all that is necessary of his 
attire. 

The appearance of one of the air and 
dress we have just described, excited a 
strong sensation among the blacks who 
scrubbed the stoops and pavements. He 
was closely attended to the place where 
he hailed the periagua, by four or five 
loungers, who studied his manner and 
movements with the admiration that men 
of their class seldom fail to bestow on 
those who bear about them the evidence 
of having passed lives of adventure, and 
perhaps of hardship and daring. Beck- 
oning to one of these idlers to follow him, 
the hero of the India-shawl stepped into 
an empty boat, and casting loose its fast, 


he sculled the light yawl toward the craft 


which was awaiting his arrival. There 
was, in truth, something in the reckless 
air, the decision, and the manly attitudes 
of so fine a specimen of a seaman, that 
might have attracted notice from those 
who were more practiced in the world 
than the little crowd of admirers he left 
behind him. With an easy play of wrist 


and elbow, he caused the yawl to glide 


ahead like some indolent marine animal 
swimming through its element, and as he 
stood, firm as a planted statue, with a foot 
on each gunwale, there was much of that 
confidence created by his steadiness, that 
one acquires by viewing the repeated and 
successful efforts of a skillful rope-dancer. 


517 


When the yawl reached the side of the 
periagua, he dropped a small Spanish coin 
into the open palm of the negro, and sprang 
on the side of the latter, with an exertion 
of muscle that sent the little boat he 
quitted half-way toward the shore, leav- 
ing the frightened black to steady himself 
in his rocking tenement, in the best man- 
ner he could. 

The tread and posture of the stranger, 
when he gained the half-deck of the peria- 
gua, were finely nautical, and confident 
to audacity. He seemed to analyze the 
half-maritime character of the crew and 
passengers at a glance, and to feel that 
sort of superiority over his companions 
which men of his profession were then a 
little too wont to entertain toward those 
whose ambition could be bounded by terra 
jirma. His eye turned upward at the 
simple rig and modest sails of the peria- 
gua, while his upper iip curled with the 
knowing expression of a critic. Then 
kicking the fore-sheet clear of its cleat, 
and suffering the sail to fill, he stepped 
from one butter-tub to another, making a 
stepping-stone of the lap of a countryman 
by the way, and alighted in the stern- 
sheets, in the midst of the party of Alder- 
man Van Beverout, with the agility and 
fearlessness of a feathered Mercury. 
With a coolness that did infinite credit to 
his powers for commanding, his next act 
was to dispossess the amazed skipper of the 
helm, taking the tiller into his own hands 
with as much composure as if he were the 
everyday occupant of the post. When 
he saw that the boat was beginning to 
move through the water, he found leisure 
to bestow some observation on his fellow- 
voyagers. The first that met his bold and 
reckless eye was Francois, the domestic 
of Alida. 

“Tf it come to blow in squalls, commo- 
dore,’’ observed the intruder, with a gray- 
ity that half deceived the attentive 
Frenchman, while he pointed to the bag 
in which the latter wore his hair, ‘‘ you’ll 
be troubled to carry your broad pennant. 
But so experienced an officer has not put 
to sea without having a storm cue in 
readiness for foul weather.’’ 

The valet did not, or affected not to un- 


518 WORKS 


derstand the allusion, maintaining an air 
of dignified but silent superiority. 

«‘The gentleman is in a foreign service, 
and does not understand an English mar- 
iner! The worst that can come, after all, 
to too much top-hamper, is to cut away, 
and let it drift with the scud. May I 
make bold to ask, judge, if the courts have 
done anything of late concerning the free- 
booters among the Islands ? ”’ 

‘‘T have not the honor to bear her Maj- 
esty’s commission,’’ coldly returned Van 
Staats of Kinderhook, to whom this ques- 
tion had been hardly put. 

«<The best navigator is Sometimes puz- 
zled by a hazy observation, and many an 
old seaman has taken fog bank for solid 
ground. Since you are not in the courts, 
sir, I wish you joy; for it is running 
among shoals to be cruising there, 
whether as judge or suitor. One is never 
fairly snug and land-locked while in com- 
pany of a lawyer, and yet the devil him- 
self cannot always give the sharks a good 
offing. A pretty sheet of water, friends ; 
and one as snug as rotten cables and foul 
winds can render desirable, is this bay of 
York.”’ 

‘*You are a mariner of the long voy- 
age,’ teturned the Patroon, unwilling 
that Alida should not believe him equal to 
bandying wits with the stranger. 

‘Long or short; Calcutta or Cape 
Cod; dead-reckoning, eye-sight, or star- 
gazing: all’s one to your real dolphin. 
The shape of the coast, between Fundy 
and the Horn, is as familiar to my eye as 
an admirer to this pretty young lady; 
and as to the other shore, 1 have run it 
down oftener than the commodore here 
has ever set his pennant, blow high or 
blow low. A cruise like this is a Sunday 
in my navigation; though I dare say you 
took leave of the wife, blessed the children, 
over-hauled the will, and sent to ask a 
good word from the priest, before you 
came abroad ! ”’ 

‘“‘ Had these ceremonies been observed, 
the danger would not have been in- 
creased,’’ said the young Patroon, anxious 
to steal a glance at la belle Barberie, 
though his timidity caused him, in truth, 
to look the other way. ‘One is never 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


nearer danger, for being prepared to meet 
1607 | 
‘True ; we must all die when the reckon- 
ing is out. Hang or drown—gibbet or 
bullet clears the world of a great deal of 
rubbish, or the decks would get to be so lit- 
tered that the vessel could not be worked. — 
The last cruise is the longest of all; and . 
honest papers, with a clean bill of health, ~ 
may help a man into port when he is past 
keeping the open sea. How now, skipper! 
what lies are floating about the docks this — 
morning ? when did the last Albanyman > 
get his tub down the river? or whose 
gelding has been ridden to death in chase 
of a witch ? ”’ 
‘‘The devil’s babes!’’? muttered the 
Alderman; ‘‘there’s no want of roysterers — 
to torment such innocents! ”’ | 
‘‘Have the buccaneers taken to pray- 
ing, or does their trade thrive in this heel © 
of the war?’’ continued the mariner of 
the India-shawl, disregarding the com- 
plaint of the burgher. ‘‘The times are 
getting heavy for men of metal, as may 
be seen by the manner in which yon 
cruiser wears out her ground-tackle, in-— 
stead of trying the open sea. May I 
spring every spar I carry, but I would 
have the boat out, and give her an airing 
before to-morrow, if the Queen would 
condescend to put your humble servant in 
charge of the craft! The man lies there 
at his anchors as if he had a good freight 
of real Hollands in his hold, and was . 
waiting for a few bales of beaver-skins to- 
barter for his strong waters.” 1 
As the stranger coolly expressed his 
opinion of her Majesty’s ship Coquette, he 
rolled his glance over the persons of his 
companions, suffering it to rest for a mo- 
ment, with a secret significance, on the 
steady eye of the burgher. a 
‘“Well,’? he continued, ‘‘the sloop an- 
swers for a floating vane to tell which 
way the tide is running, if she does noth- 
ing better; and that must be a great 
assistance, skipper, in the navigation of 
one who keeps as bright a lookout on th 
manner in which the world whirls round 
as a gentleman of your sagacity.”’ } 
‘‘If the news in the creek be true,’’ re- 
joined the unoffended owner of the peria- 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


gua, “‘there will be other business for 
Captain Ludlow and the Coquette before 
many days!”’ 

“Ah! having eaten all his meat and 
bread, the man will be obliged to victual 
his ship anew. *T'were a pity so active a 
gentleman should keep a fast in a brisk 
tide’s-way. And when his coppers are 
once more filled, and the dinner is fairly 
eaten, what dost think will be his next 
duty ? ”’ 

«There is a report among the boatmen 
of the South Bay that something was seen 
yester’night off the outer side of Long 
Island ! ”’ 

*“T’ll answer for the truth of that 
rumor, for having come up with the even- 
ing flood, I saw it myself.’’ 

** Der duyvel’s luck ! and what dost take 
it to be? ”’ 

«The Atlantic Ocean; if you doubt 
my word, I appeal to this well ballasted 
old gentleman, who, being a school-mas- 
ter, is able to give you latitude and longi- 
tude for its truth.’’ 

‘““Tam Alderman Van Beverout,’’ mut- 
tered the object of this new attack between 
the teeth, though apparently but half-dis- 
posed to notice one who set so little bounds 
to his discourse. . 

“1 beg a thousand pardons !’’ returned 
the strange seaman, with a grave inclina- 
tion of his body. ‘‘The stolidity of your 
worship’s countenance deceived me. It 
may be, indeed, unreasonable to expect any 
alderman to know the position of the At- 
lantic Ocean! And yet, gentlemen, on the 
honor of a man who has seen much salt 
water in his time, I do assure you the sea 
I speak of is actually there. If there be 
anything on it, or in it, that should not be 
in reason, this worthy commander of the 
periagua will let us know the rest.”’ 

*‘A wood-boat from the inlet says the 
Skimmer of the Seas was lately seen 
standing along the coast,’’ returned the 
ferryman, in the tone of one who is certain 
of delivering matter of general interest. 

“Your true sea-dog, who runs in and 
out of inlets, isa man for marvels,’’ coolly 
observed the stranger. ‘‘ They know the 
color of the sea at night, and are forever 
steering in the wind’s eye in search of ad- 


519 


ventures. I wonder more of them are not 
kept at making almanacs! There was a 
mistake concerning a thunder-storm in the 
last one I bought, and all for the want of 
proper science. And pray, friend, who is . 
this Skimmer of the Seas, that is said to 
be running after his needle, like a tailor 
who has found a hole in his neighbor’s 
coat ? ”’ | 

“The witches may tell! I only know 
that such a rover there is, and that he is 
here to-day, and there to-morrow. Some 
say it is only a craft of mist that skims the 
top of the seas like sailing water-fowl ; and 
others think it is the sprite of a vessel 
that was rifled and burned by Kidd in the 
Indian Ocean, looking for its gold and 
the killed. I saw him once myself, but the 
distance was so great, and his maneuvers 
were so unnatural, that -I could hardly 
give a good account of his hull or rig.’’ 

«‘ This is matter that don’t get into the 
log every watch! Where-away, or in 
what seas didst meet the thing ? ”’ 

<<?T was off the Branch. We were fish- 
ing in thick weather, and when the mist 
lifted a little, there was a craft seen stand- 
ing in shore, running like a race-horse ; 
but while we got our anchor, she had 
made a league of offing on the other 
tack ! 7’ 

“* A certain proof of either her or your 
activity! But what might have been the 
form and shape of your fly-away ?”’ 

‘“‘Nothing determined. To one_ she 
seemed a full-rigged and booming ship ; 
another took her for a Bermudian scud- 
der; while to me she had the look of 
twenty periaguas built into a single craft. 
It is well known, however, that a West- 
Indiaman went to sea that night, and 
though it is now three years, no tidings 
of her crew have ever come to any in New 
York. Ihave never gone upon the banks 
to fish since that day in thick weather.’’ 

‘You have done well,’’ observed the 
stranger. ‘‘I have seen many wonderful 
sights myself on the rolling ocean; and 
he whose business it is to lay between 
wind and water like you, my friend, should 
never trust himself within reach of one of 
those devil’s flyers. I could tell you a 
tale of an affair in the calm latitudes, 


520 


under the burning sun, that would be a 
lesson to all of overbold curiosity ! Com- 
mission and character are not affairs for 
your in-shore coasters.”’ 

‘‘We have time to hear it,’’ observed 
the Patroon, whose attention had been 
excited by the discourse, and who read in 
the dark eye of Alida that she felt an in- 
terest in the expected narrative. 

But the countenance of the stranger 
suddenly grew serious. He shook his 
head like one who had sufficient reasons 
for his silence; and relinquishing the 
tiller, he quite coolly obliged a gaping 
countryman in the center of the boat to 
yield his place, where he laid his own 
athletic form at full length, folded his 
arms on his breast, and shut his eyes. In 
less than five minutes all within hearing 
had audible evidence that this extraordi- 
nary son of the ocean was ina sound sleep. 


CHAPTER IV. 


“Be patient, for the prize I’ll bring thee to, 
Shall hoodwink this mischance.’?—TEMPEST. 


THE air, audacity, and language of the 
unknown mariner had produced a marked 
sensation among the passengers of the 
periagua. It was plain by the playfulness 
that lurked about the coal-black eye of the 
belle Barberie, that she had been amused 
by his sarcasms, though the boldness of 
his manner had caused her to maintain 
the reserve which she belieyed necessary 
to her sex and condition. The Patroon 
studied the countenance of his mistress, 
and though half offended by the freedom 
of the intruder, he had believed it wisest 
to tolerate his liberties, as the natural 
excesses of a spirit that had been lately 
released from the monotony of a sea-life. 
The repose which usually reigned in the 
countenance of the Alderman had been a 
little troubled ; but he succeeded in con- 
cealing his discontent from any imperti- 
nent observation. When the chief actor 
in the foregoing scene, therefore, saw fit 
to withdraw, the usual tranquillity was 
restored, and his presence appeared to be 
forgotten. 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


An ebbing tide and a freshening breeze — 


quickly carried the periagua past the 
smaller islands of the bay, and brought 
the cruiser called the Coquette more dis- 
tinctly into view. This vessel, a ship of 
twenty guns, lay abreast of the hamlet on 
the shores of Staten Island, which was the 
destination of the ferry-boat. Here was the 
usual anchorage of outward bound ships 


which awaited a change of wind; and it — 


was here that vessels then, as in our times, 
were subjected to those examinations and 
delays which are imposed for the safety of 


the inhabitants of the city. The Coquette — 
was alone, however; for the arrival of a — 


trader from a distant port was an event 


of unfrequent occurrence at the commence- — 


ment of the eighteenth century. 
The course of the periagua brought her 
within fifty feet of the sloop-of-war. As 


the former approached, a movement of — 


curiosity and interest occurred among — 


those she contained. 


«Take more room for your Milkmaid,” 
grumbled the Alderman, observing that — 
the skipper was willing to gratify his — 


passengers by running as near as possible 
to the dark side of the cruiser. ‘‘ Seas 
and oceans ! is not York Bay wide enough 


that you must brush the dust out of the ~ 
lia 
the Queen knew how her money was eaten — 
and drunk by the idle knaves aboard her, ~ 
she would send them all to hunt for free-— 
Look at the — 


muzzles of the guns of yon lazy ship? 


booters among the islands. 
land, Alida, child, and you’ll think no_ 
more of the fright the gaping dunce is j 
giving thee; he only wishes to show his 
skill in steering.” 

But the niece manifested none of them 
terror that the uncle was willing to as-— 
cribe to her fears. Instead of turning 
pale, the color deepened on her cheeks as 
the periagua came dancing along under 
the lee of the cruiser, and if her respira-_ 
tion became quicker than .usual, it was” 
scarcely produced by the agitation of 
alarm. The near sight of the tall masts, - 
and of the maze of cordage that hung 
nearly above their heads, however, pre- 
vented the change from being noted. A 
hundred curious eyes were already peep- 
ing at them through the ports or over the 


a 
Be 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


bulwarks of the ship, when suddenly an 
officer, who wore the undress of a naval 
captain of that day, sprang into the main 
rigging of the cruiser, and saluted the 
party in the periagua by waving his hat 
hurriedly, like one who was agreeably 
taken by surprise. 

‘A fair sky and gentle breeze to each 
and all!’’ he cried, with the hearty man- 
ner ofa seaman. “I kiss my hand to the 
fair Alida; and the Alderman will take a 
sailor’s good wishes; Mr. Van Staats, | 
salute you.”’ 

«« Aye,’’? muttered the burgher, “your 
idlers have nothing better to do than to 
make words answer for deeds. A lazy 
war and a distant enemy make you sea- 
men the lords of the land, Captain Lud- 
low.”’ 

Alida blushed still deeper, hesitated, and 


then, by a movement that was half invol- | 


untary, she waved her handkerchief. The 
young Patroon arose, and answered the 
salutation by a courteous bow. By this 
time the ferry-boat was nearly past the 
ship, and the scowl was quitting the face 
of the Alderman, when the mariner of the 
India-shawl sprang to his feet, and in a 
moment he stood againin the center of the 
party. 

«<A pretty sea-boat, and a neat show 
aloft !’’? he said, as his understanding eye 
scanned the rigging of the royal cruiser, 
taking the tiller at the same time, with 
all his former indifference, from the hands 
of the skipper. ‘‘Her Majesty should 
have good service from such a racer, and 
no doubt the youth in her rigging is a man 
to get the most out of his craft. We'll 
take another observation. Draw away 
your head-sheets, boy.’’ 

The stranger put the helm a-lee while 
speaking, and by the time the order he 
had given was uttered, the quick-working 
boat was about and nearly filled on the 
other tack. In another minute she was 
again brushing along the side of the sloop- 
of-war. A common complaint against this 
hardy interference with the regular duty 
of the boat was about to break out of the 
lips of the Alderman and the skipper, when 
he of the India-shawl lifted his cap and 
addressed the officer in the rigging with 


521 


all the self-possession he had manifested in 
the intercourse with those nearer his person. 

‘Has her Majesty need of a man in her 
service who has seen, in his time, more 
blue water than hard ground; or is there 
no empty berth, in so gallant a cruiser, 
for one who must doa seaman’s duty or 
starve ? ”’ 

The descendant of the king-hating Lud- 
lows, as the Lord Cornbury had styled 
the race of the commander of the Co- 
quette, was quite as much surprised by 
the appearance of him who put this ques- 
tion as he was by the coolness with which 
a mariner of ordinary condition presumed 
to address an officer who bore so high a 
commission as hisown. He had, however, 
sufficient time to recollect in whose pres- 
ence he stood, ere he replied, for the 
stranger had again placed the helm a-lee, 
and caused the foresail to be thrown back 
—a change that made the periagua sta- 
tionary. 7 

‘‘The Queen will always receive a bold 
mariner in her pay, if he come prepared 
to serve with skill and fidelity,’’ he said, 
‘Cas a proof of which, let a rope be thrown 
the periagua; we shall treat more at our 
ease under her Majesty’s pennant. I 
shall be proud to entertain Alderman Van 
Beverout in the meantime; and a cutter 
willalways be at his command when he 
shall have occasion to quit us.” 

‘¢ Your land-loving aldermen find their 
way from a queen’s cruiser to the shore 
more easily than a seaman of twenty 
years’ experience,’’ returned the other, 
without giving the burgher time to ex- 
press his thanks for the polite offer of the 
other. ‘‘ You have gone through the 
Gibraltar passage, without doubt, noble 
Captain, being a gentleman that has got 
so fine a boat under his orders ? ”’ 

«“Duty has taken me into the Italian 
seas more than once,’’ answered Ludlow, 
half disposed to resent his familiarity, 
though anxious to keep the periagua near, 
to quarrel with him who so evidently had 
produced the unexpected pleasure. 

‘«‘Then you know that, though a lady 
might fan a ship through the straits east- 
ward, it needs a Levant-breeze to bring 
her out again. Her Majesty’s pennants 


522 WORKS 


are long, and when they get foul around 
the limbs of a thoroughly-bred sea-dog, it 
passes all his art to clear the jam. It is 
most worthy of remark, that the better 
the seaman, the less his power to cast 
loose the knot !’’ 

‘If the pennant be so long, it may 
reach farther than you wish! But a bold 
volunteer has no occasion to dread a 
press.”’ 

‘| fear the berth I wish is filled,’’ re- 
turned the other, curling his lip; “let 
draw the fore-sheet, lad ; we will take our 
departure, leaving the fly of the pennant 
well under our lee. Adieu, brave Captain; 
when you have need of a thorough rover 
and dream of stern-chases and wet sails, 
think of him who visited your ship at her 
lazy moorings.”’ 

Ludlow bit his lips, and though his fine 
‘face reddened to the temples, he met the 
arch glances of Alida, and laughed. But 
he who had so hardily braved the resent- 
ment of a man powerful as the commander 
of a royal cruiser ina British colony, ap- 
peared to understand the hazard of his 
situation. 

The periagua whirled round on her heel, 
and the next minute it was bending to the 
breeze, and dashing through the little 
waves toward the shore. Three boats 
left the cruiser at the same moment. 
One, which evidently contained her cap- 
tain, advanced with the usual dignified 
movement of a barge landing an officér of 
rank, but the others were urged ahead 
with all the earnestness of a hot chase. 

‘Unless disposed to serve the Queen, 
you have not done well, my friend, to 
brave one of her commanders at the muz- 
zles of his guns,’’ observed the Patroon so 
soon as the state of the case became too 
evident to doubt the intentions of the 
man-of-war’s men. 

“That Captain Ludlow would gladly 
take some of us out of this boat, by fair 
means or by foul, is a fact clearas a bright 
star in a cloudless night, and well-knowing 
a seaman’s duty to his superiors, I shall 
leave him to his choice.’’ 

**In which case you will shortly eat her 
Majesty’s bread,’’ pithily returned the 
Alderman. 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


“The food is unpalatable, and I reject 
it; yet here is a boat whose crews seem 
determined to make one swallow Worseg 
fare.”’ ; 

The unknown mariner ceased speaking, © 
for the situation of the periagua was truly 
getting to be a little critical. At least so_ 
it seemed to the less-instructed landsmen — 
who were witnesses of this nne=peaaa 
rencontre. As the ferry-boat had drawn 
in with the island, the wind hauled up 
through the pass which communicates — 
with the outer bay, and it became neces- 
sary to heave about Swice, in order to 
fetch to windward of the usual landing- 
place. The first of these maneuvers had 
been executed, and as it necessarily 
changed their course, the passengers saw 
that the cutter to which the stranger al-— 
luded was enabled to get within-shore of 
them, or nearer to the wharf where they 
ought to land than they were themselves. 
Instead of suffering himself to be led off 
by a pursuit that he knew might easily be 
rendered useless, the officer who com- 
manded this boat cheered his men, and — 
pulled swiftly to the point of debarkation. — 
On the other hand a second cutter, which — 
had already reached the line of the peria- 
gua’s course, lay on its oars and awaited 
its approach. The unknown mariner 
manifested no intention to avoid the inter- _ 
view. He still held the tiller and as effec- 
tually commanded the little vessel as if 
his authority were of a more regular char- — 
acter. The audacity and decision of his — 
air and conduct, aided by the consummate _ 
manner in which he worked the boat, ; 
might alone have achieved this momen- — 
tary usurpation, had not the general feel- — 
ing against impressment been so much in 
his favor. | 

“The devil’s fangs!’ grumbled the 
skipper. “‘If you should keep the Milk- 
maid away, we shall lose a little in dis- 
tance, though I think the man-of-war’s 
men will be puzzled to catch her, with a 
flowing sheet !”’ 

“The Queen has sent a message by the 
gentleman,”’ the mariner rejoined; “it 
would be unmannerly to refuse to hear 
it ! fee 2 

‘‘ Heave-to the periagua! ”’ shoul 


© 


the young officer in the cutter. “ In 
ner Majesty’s name, I command you, 
obey.”’ 

«<God bless the royal lady !”’ returned 
he of the foul anchors and gay shawl, 
while the swift ferry-boat continued to 
dash ahead. ‘‘ We owe her duty, and 
are glad to see so proper a gentleman 
employed in her behalf.”’ 

By this time the boats were fifty feet 
asunder. No sooner was there room, 
than the periagu&% once more flew round 
and commenced anew its course, dashing 
in again toward the shore. It was neces- 
sary, however, to venture within an oar’s 
length of the cutter, or to keep away—a 
loss of ground to which he who controlled 
her movements showed no disposition to 
submit. The officer arose, and, as the 
periagua drew near, it was evident his 
hand held a pistol, though he seemed re- 
luctant to exhibit the weapon. The mar- 
iner stepped aside in a manner to offer a 
full view of all his group, as he sarcasti- 
cally observed : 


‘«“Choose your object, sir; in such a} 


party a man of sentiment may have a 
preference.”’ 

The young man colored, as much with 
shame at the degrading duty he had been 
commissioned to perform, as with vexation 
at his failure. 

Recovering his self-composure, how- 
ever, he lifted his hat to la belle Barberie, 
and the periagua dashed on in triumph. 
Still the leading cutter was near the 
shore, where it soon arrived, the crew 
lying on their oars near the wharf, in 
expectation of the arrival of the ferry- 
boat. At this sight the skipper shook his 
head, and looked up into the bold face of 
his passenger, in a manner to betray how 
much his mind misgave the result. But 
the tall mariner maintained his coolness, 


and began to make merry allusions to the |, 


service he had braved with so much temer- 
ity, and from which no one believed he 
was yet likely to escape. By the former 
maneuvers the periagua had gained a 
position well to windward of the wharf, 
and she now steered close upon the wind, 
directly for the shore. Against the con- 
sequences of a perseverance in this course, 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


523 


however, the skipper saw fit to re- 
monstrate. 

«Shipwrecks and rocky bottoms!” ex- 
claimed the alarmed waterman. “A 
Holland galiot would go to pieces, if you 
should run her in among those stepping- 
stones with this breeze. No honest boat- 
man loves to see a man stowed ina 
cruiser’s hold, like a thief caged in a 
prison ; but when it comes to breaking the 
nose of the Milkmaid, it is asking too 
much of her owner to stand by and look 
on.”’ 

‘‘There shall not be a dimple in her 
lovely countenance deranged,’’ answered 
his cool passenger. ‘‘Now lower away 
your sails, and we’ll run along the shore, 
down to yon wharf. *Twould: be an un- 
gallant act to treat the dairy-girl with so 
little ceremony, gentlemen, after the little 
lively foot and quick evolutions she has 
shown in our behalf. The best dancer in 
the island could not have better played 
her part though jigging under the music 
of a three-stringed fiddle.’’ 

By this time the sails were lowered, and 
the periagua was gliding down toward 
the place of landing, running always at 
the distance of fifty feet from the shore. 
‘Every craft has its allotted time, 
like a mortal,’’ continued the inexplicable 
mariner of the India-shawl. ‘If she is 
to die a sudden death, there is your beam- 
end and stern-way, which takes her into 
the grave without funeral service or par- 
ish prayers; your dropsy is being water- 
logged; gout and rheumatism kill like a 
broken back,and loose joints ; indigestion 
is a shifting cargo, with guns adrift; the 
gallows is a bottomry-bond, with lawyers’ 
fees; while fire, drowning, death by re- 
ligious melancholy, and suicide, are a care- 
less gunner, sunken rocks, false lights, 
and a lubberly captain.” 

Ere any were apprised of his intention, 
this singular being then sprang from the 
boat on the cap of the little rock, over 
which the waves were washing, whence 
he bounded from stone to stone, by vigor- 
ous efforts, till he fairly leaped to land. 
In another minute he was lost to view 


‘among the dwellings of the hamlet. 


The arrival of the periagua, which im- 


524 


mediately after reached the wharf, the dis- 
appointment of the cutter’s crew, and the 
return of both the boats to their ship, 
succeeded as matters of course. 


CHAPTER V. 


** Oliv.—Did he write this ? 
Clo.—Aye, madam.’’—TWELFTH NIGHT. 


IF we say that Alida de Barberie did not 
cast a glance behind her as the party 
quitted the wharf, in order to see whether 
the boat that contained the commander 
of the cruiser followed the example of 
the others, we shall probably portray the 
maiden as one that was less subject to the 
influence of coquetry than the truth would 
justify. To the great discontent of the 
Alderman, whatever might have been the 
feelings of hisniece on the occasion, the 
barge continued to approach the shore, in 
a manner which showed that the young 
seaman betrayed no visible interest in the 
result of the chase. 

The heights of Staten Island, a century 
ago, were covered, much as they are at 
present, with a growth of dwarf-trees. 
Foot-paths led among this meager vegeta- 
tion in divers directions; and as the ham- 
let at the quarantine-ground was the point 
whence they all diverged, it required a 
practiced guide to thread their mazes 
without a loss of both time and distance. 
It would seem, however, that the worthy 
burgher was fully equal to the office ; for, 
moving with more than his usual agility, 
he soon led his companions into the wood, 
and, by frequently altering his course, so 
completely confounded their sense of the 
relative bearings of places, that it is not 
probable one of them all could very readily 
have extricated himself from the laby- 
rinth. 

‘*Clouds and shady bowers !’’ exclaimed 
Myndert, when he had achieved, to his 
own Satisfaction, this evasion of the pur- 
suit he wished to avoid; “little oaks and 
green pines are pleasant on a June morn- 
ing. You shall have mountain air and a 
Sea-breeze, Patroon, to quicken the appe- 
tite of the Lust in Rust. 
speak, the girl can say that a mouthful 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


If Alida will 


of the elixir is better for a rosy cheek than 
all the concoctions and washes that were 
ever invented to give a man the heart-— 
ache.”’ 4 

“If the place be as much changed as — 
the road that leads to it,’’? returned la — 
belle Barberie, glancing her dark eye, in — 
vain, in the direction of the bay they had 
quitted, “‘I should scarcely venture an 
opinion on a subject of which I am obliged — 
to confess utter ignorance.”’ 

‘“Ah, woman is naught but vanities! — 
To see and to be seen is the delight of the — 
sex. Though we are a thousand times 
more comfortable in this wood than we 
Should be in walking along the water-side, — 
why, the sea-gulls and snipes lose the bene- 
fit of our company! The salt-water, and 
all who live on it, are to be avoided by a 
wise man, Mr. Van Staats, except as they 
both serve to cheapen freight and to ren- 
der trade brisk. You’ll thank me for this 
care, niece of mine, when you reach the 
bluff, cool as a package of furs free from 
moth, and fresh and beautiful as a Holland 
tulip, with the dew on it.”’ 

“To resemble the latter, one might 
consent to walk blindfold, dearest uncle ; 
and so we dismiss the subject. Francois, 
fais moi le plaisir de porter ce petit livre ; 
malgre la fraicheur de la foret, j’ai besoin 
de m’evanter.”’ 3 

The valet took the book with an em- 
pressement that defeated the more tardy 
politeness of the Patroon; and when he 
saw, by the vexed eye and flushed cheek 
of his young mistress, that she was incom- 
moded rather by an internal than by the 
external heat, he whispered consider- 
ately— 

“‘Que ma chere Mademoiselle Alide ne 
se fache pas! Elle ne manquerait jamais 
d’admirateurs, dans un desert. Ah! si 
Mam /’selle allait voir la patrie de ses an- 
cestres ! ”’ i, 

‘“Merci bien, mon cher; gardezles feuil- — 
les fortementfermees. Ilya des papiers — 
dedans.”’ 

‘Monsieur Francois,’’ said the Alder- 
man, separating his niece with little cere- 
mony from her nearly parental attendant — 
by the interposition of his own bulky per- 
son and motioning for the others to pro- 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


ceed, “‘a word with thee in confidence. tS 


have noted, in the course of a busy and I 
hope a profitable life, that a faithful ser- 
vant is an honest counselor. Next to 
Holland and England, both of which are 
great commercial nations, and the Indies, 
which are necessary to these colonies, to- 
gether with a natural preference for the 
land in which I was born, I have always 
been of opinion that France is a very good 
sort of country. 1 think, Mr. Francois, 
that dislike to the seas has kept you 
from returning thither since the decease 
of my late brother-in-law !”’ 

‘Wid like for Mam’selle Alide, Mon- 
sieur, avec votre permission.”’ 

<‘Your affection for my niece, honest 
Francois, is not to be doubted. It is as 
certain as the payment of a good draft by 
Crommeline, Van Stopper, and Van Gelt, 
of Amsterdam. Ah! old valet! she is 
fresh and blooming as a rose, and a girl of 
excellent qualities! ’Tis a pity that she 
is a little opinionated ; a defect that she 
doubtless inherits from her Norman an- 
cestors : since all of my family have ever 
been remarkable for listening to reason. 
The Normans were an obstinate race as 
witness the siege of Rochelle, by which 
oversight real estate in that city must 
have lost much in value !”’ 

‘© Mille excuses, Monsieur Bevre’ ; more 
beautiful as de rose, and no opiniatre du 
tout. Mon Dieu, pour sa qualite, c’est une 
famille tres ancienne.”’ . 

‘That was a weak point with my 
brother Barberie, and, after all, it did not 
add a cipher to the sum total of the assets. 
The best blood, Mr. Francois, is that 
which has been best fed. The line of 
Hugh Capet himself would fail, without 
the butcher ; and the butcher would cer- 
tainly fail, without customers that can 
pay. Francois, thou art a man who 
understands the value of a sure footing in 
the world; would it not be a thousand 
pities that such a girl as Alida should 
throw herself away on one whose best 
foundation is no better than a rolling 
ship ?’’ 

‘‘Certainement, Monsieur: Mam/’selle 
be too good to roll in de ship.”’ 

‘‘Obliged to follow a husband up and 


525 


down; among freebooters and dishonest 
traders; in fair weather and foul; hot 
and cold; wet and dry; bilge water and 
salt water ; crampsand nausea ; salt junk 
and no junk; gales and calms—and all 
for a hasty judgment formed in sanguine 
youth.”’ 7 


The face of the valet had responded to 


the Alderman’s enumeration of the evils 
that would attend so ill-judged a step in 
his niece, as faithfully as if each muscle had 
been a mirror to reflect the contortions of 
one suffering under the malady of the 
sea. 


{99 


‘«‘Parbleu, c’est horrible, cette mer 


he ejaculated, when the other had done. 


“Tt is a grand malheur, dere should be 


watair but for drink, and for la proprete 
avec fosse to keep de carp round de cha- 
teau. 
ment, and she shall have mari on la terre 


Mais, Mam/’selle be no haste judg- 


solide.”’ 
“<?Twould be better that the estate of 
my brother-in-law should be kept in sight, 


judicious Francois, than to be sent adrift 


on the high seas.”’ 

‘“Dere vas marin dans la famille de 
Barberie, nevair.”’ 

‘¢Bonds and balances! If the savings 
of one I could name, frugal Francois, were 
added in current coin, the sum total would 
sink a common ship. You know it is my 
intention to remember Alida, in settling 
accounts with the world.”’ 

‘¢Tf Monsieur de Barberie vas ’live, Mon- 
sieur Alderman, he should say des choses 
convenables; mais, malheureusement, 
mon cher maitre est mort; and, saair, I 
shall be bold to remercier pour lui, et pour 
tout sa famille.’’ 

<< Women are perverse, and sometimes 
they have pleasure in doing the very thing 
they are desired not to do.”’ 

‘Ma foi, oui! ”’ 

‘*Prudent men should manage them 
with soft words and rich gifts ; with these 
they become orderly as a pair of well- 
broke geldings.’’ 

‘‘Monsieur, know,’ said the old valet, 
rubbing his hands and laughing with the 
subdued voice of a well-bred domestic, 
though he could not conceal a jocular 
wink; ‘‘pourtant il est garcon? Le ca- 


| 


526 | WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


deau be good for de demoiselles, and bet- 
tair as for de dames.”’ 

““ Wedlock and blinkers! it is we gas- 
sons, aS you call us, who ought to know. 
Your henpecked husband has no time to 
generalize among the sex, in order to 
understand the real quality of the article. 
Now, here is Van Staats of Kinderhook, 
faithful Francois ; what think you of such 
a youth for a husband for Alida ?’’ 

“Pourtant, Mam’selle like de vivacite ; 
Monsieur le Patroon be nevair trop vif.” 

““The more likely to be sure—hist! I 
hear a footstep. Weare followed—chased, 
perhaps I should say, to speak in the lan- 
guage of these sea gentry. Now is the 
time to show this Captain Ludlow how a 
I*renchman can wind him round his finger 
on terra firma. Loiter in the rear, and 
draw our navigator on the wrong course. 
When he has run into a fog, come your- 
self with all speed to the oak on the bluff. 
There we shall await you.”’ 

Flattered by this confidence, and really 
persuaded that he was furthering the 
happiness of her he served, the old valet 
nodded in reply to the Alderman’s wink 
and chuckle, and immediately relaxed his 
speed. The former pushed ahead ; and in 
a minute he and those who followed had 
turned short to the left, and were out of 
sight. 

Though faithfully and even affection- 
ately attached to Alida, her servant had 
many of the qualifications of a European 
domestic. Trained in all the ruses of his 
profession, he was of that school which 


believes civilization is to be measured by 


artifice ; and success lost some of its value 
when it had been effected by the vulgar 
machinery of truth and common sense. 
No wonder then the retainer entered into 
the views of the Alderman with more 
than a usual relish for the duty. He 
heard the crackling of the dried twigs be- 
neath the footsteps of him who followed ; 


. and, in order that there might be no 


chance of missing the desired interview, 
the valet began to hum a French air in so 
loud a key as to be certain the sounds 
would reach any ear that was nigh. The 
twigs snapped more rapidly, the footsteps 
seemed nearer, and the hero of the India- 


shawl sprang to the side of the expecting 


Francois. 

The disappointment seemed mutual, and 
on the part of the domestic 1t entirely dis- 
concerted all his prearranged schemes for 
misleading the commander of the Co- 
quette. Not so with the bold mariner. 
So far from his self-possession being dis- 
turbed, it would have been no easy mat- 
ter to restrain his audacity, even in situa- 
tions far more trying than any in which 
he has yet been presented to the reader. 

“What cheer in thy woodland cruise, 
Monsieur Broadpennant?”? he said, with 
infinite coolness, the instant his steady 
glance had ascertained they were all alone. 
“This is safer navigation for an officer of 
thy draught of water, than running about 
the bay in a periagua. What may be 
your longitude, and where-away did you 
part company from the consorts ? ”’ 

“Sair, I valk in de vood for de plaisir, 
and I go on de bay for de—parbleu, non ! 
tis to follow ma jeune maitresse I go on 
de bay; and, sair, I wish de who do love 
de bay and de sea, would not come into de 
vood, du tout.”’ 

“Well spoken, and with ample spirit : 
what, a student, too! One in a wood 
Should glean something from his labors. 
Is it the art of furling a main cue that 
is taught in this pretty volume ? ”’ 

As the mariner put his question, he 
very deliberately took the book from 
Francois, who, instead of resenting the 
liberty, rather offered the volume in 
exultation. 

‘No, sair, it is not how to furl la cue, 
but how to touch de soul; not de art to 
haul over de calm, but—oui, c’est plein de 
connaissance et d’esprit! Ah! ah! you 
know de Cid! le grand homme! ’homme 
de genie! If you read, Monsieur Marin, 
you shall see la vraie poesie! Not de big 
book and no single rhyme; sair, I do not 
vish to say vat is penible, mais it is not 
one book widout rhyme; it was not ecrit 
on the sea. Le diable! que le vrai genie, 
et le les nobles sentiments, se trouvent 
dans ce livre, la !”’ 

“* Aye, I see it is a log-book for every 
man to note his mind in. I return you 
Master Cid, with his fine sentiments in 


the bargain. Great as was his genius, it 


|. would seem he was not the man to write 


all that I find between the leaves.”’ 

‘He not write him all! Yes, sair, he 
shall writ him six time more dan all, if la 
France a besoin. Que l’envie de ces Ang- 
lais se decouvre quand on parte des beaux 
gzenies de la France !”’ 

«Twill only say, if the gentleman wrote 
the whole that is in the book, and it is as 
fine as you would make a plain, seafaring 
man believe, he did wrong not to print 
Re 

«‘ Print !”’? echoed Francois, opening his 
eyes and the volume by a common im- 
pulse. ‘‘Imprime! ha? here is papier of 
Mam/’selle Alide, assurement.’’ 

«Take better heed of it, then,’’ inter- 
rupted the seaman of the shawl. ‘As 
for your Cid, to me it is a useless vol- 
ume, since it teaches not the latitude of a 
shoal nor the shape of a coast.”’ 

«“Sair, it teach de morale; de rock of 
de passion et les grands movements de 
Vame! Oui, sair; it teach all un Mon- 
sieur wish to know. Tout le monde read 
him in la France, en province comme en 
ville. If sa Majeste le grand Louis be not 
so mal avise as to chasser Messieurs les 
Huguenots from his royaume, I shall go 
to Paris to hear le Cid moi-meme !”’ 

«A good journey to you, Monsieur 
Cue. We may meet on the road, until 
which time I take my departure. The 
day may come when we shall converse 
with a rolling sea beneath us. ‘Till then, 
brave cheer ! ”’ 

«* Adieu, Monsieur,’’? returned Francois, 
bowing with a politeness that had become 
too familiar to be forgotten. ‘‘ If we do 
not meet but in the sea, we shall not meet 
nevair. Ah, ha, ha! Monsieur le Marin 
n’aime pas a entendre parler de la gloire 
de la France! Je voudrais bien savoir 
lire ce {——e Shak-a-spear, pour voir com- 
bien V’immortel Corneille lui est superieur. 
Ma foi, oui; Monsieur Pierre Corneille est 
vraiment un homme illustire !”’ 

The faithful, self-complacent, and aged 
valet then pursued his way toward the 
large oak on the bluff; for as he ceased 
speaking, the mariner of the gay sash had 
turned deeper into the woods, and left him 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


527 
alone. Proud of the manner in which he 
had met the audacity of the stranger, 
prouder still of the. reputation of the 
author, whose fame had been known in: 
France long before his own departure 
from Europe, and not a little consoled 
with the reflection that he had contributed 
his mite to support the honor of his dis- 
tant and well-beloved country, the honest 
Francois pressed the volume affectionately 
beneath his arm, and hastened on after 
his mistress. 

Though the position of Staten Island 
and the surrounding bays is so familiar to 
the Manhattanese, an explanation of the 
localities may beagreeable to readers who 
dwell at a distance from the scene of the 
tale. 

It has already been said that the princi- 
pal communication between the Bays of 
Raritan and York is called the Narrows. 
At the mouth of this passage the land on 
Staten Island rises in a high. bluff, which 
overhangs the water, not unlike the tale- 
fraught cape of Misenum. From this ele- 
vated point, the eye not only commands a 
view of both estuaries and the city, but it. 
looks far beyond the point of Sandy Hook 
into the opensea. It is here that, in our 
own days, ships are first noted in the offing 
and whence the news of the approach of 
his vessel is communicated to the expect- 
ing merchant by means of the telegraph. 
In the early part of the last century, ars 
rivals were too rare to support such an 
establishment. The bluff was therefore 
little resorted to, except by some occa- 
sional admirer of scenery, or by those 
countrymen whom business, at long inter- 
vals, drew to the spot. It had been early 
cleared of its wood, and the oak already 
mentioned was the only tree standing 
in a space of some ten ora dozen acres. 

It has been said that Alderman Van 
Beverout had appointed this solitary oak 
as the place of rendezvous with Francois. 
Thither then he took his way on parting 
from the valet, and to this spot we must 
now transfer the scene. <A rude seat had 
been placed around the root of the tree, 
and here the whole party, with the excep- 
tion of the absent domestic, were soon 
seated. Ina minute, however, they were 


528 


joined by the exulting Francois, who im- 
mediately related the particulars of his 
recent interview with the stranger. 

‘“‘A clear conscience, with cordial friends, 
and a fair balance sheet, may keep a man 
warm in January, even in this climate,”’ 
said the Alderman, willing to turn the dis- 
course ; “‘ but what with rebellious blacks, 
hot streets, and spoiling furs, it passeth 
mortal powers to keep cool in yonder over- 
grown and crowded town. Thou seest, 
Patroon, the spot of white on the opposite 
side of the bay. Breezes and fanning ! 
that is the Lust in Rust, where cordial 
enters the mouth at every breath, and 
where aman has room to cast up the sum- 
total of his thoughts any hour in the 
twenty-four.”’ 

“We seem quite as effectually alone on 
this hill, with the advantage of having a 
city in the view,’’ remarked Alida, with 
an emphasis that showed that she meant 
even much more than she expressed. 

‘““We are by ourselves, niece of mine,” 
returned the Alderman, rubbing his hands 
as if he secretly felicitated himself that 
the facts were so. ‘‘That truth cannot 
be denied, and good company we are, 
though the opinion comes from one who is 
not a cipher in the party. Modesty is a 
poor man’s wealth; but as we must grow 
substantial in the world, Patroon, one can 
afford to speak truth of himself as well as 
of his neighbor.’’ 

“In which case, little but good will be 
uttered from the mouth of Alderman Van 
Beverout,” said Ludlow, appearing so 
suddenly from the root of the tree as 
effectually to shut the mouth of the 
burgher. ‘My desire to offer the ser- 
vices of the ship to your party has led 
to this abrupt intrusion, and I hope will 
obtain its pardon.’’ 

“The power to forgive is a preroga- 
tive of the Governor, who represents the 
Queen,”’ dryly returned the Alderman. 
“Tf her Majesty has so little employment 
for her cruisers, that their captains can 
dispose of them in behalf of old men and 
young. maidens—why, happy is the age, 
and commerce should flourish.’’ . 

“Tf the two duties are compatible, the 


greater the reason why a commander - 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


should felicitate himself that he may be — 
You are bound to — 


of service to so many. 
the Jersey Hig ghlands, Mr. Van ate 
rout ? ”’ 

‘‘T am bound to a very comtenatle and 
very private abode called the Lust in 


Rust, Captain Cornelius Van Cuyler Lud- | 


low.”’ 

The young man bit his lips, and his 
healthful but brown cheek flushed a deeper 
red than common, though he preserved 
his composure. 

«‘ And I am bound to sea,’’ he soon said. 
“ The wind is getting fresh, and your 
boat, which I see this moment is standing 
in for the island, will find it difficult to 
make way against its force. The Co- 
quette’s anchor will be aweigh in twenty 
minutes, and I shall find two hours of an 
ebbing tide, and a topgallant breeze, but 
too short a time for the pleasure of enter- 
taining such guests. I am certain that 
the fears of la Belle will favor my wishes, 
whichsoever side of the question her in- 
clinations my happen to be.’’ 

“‘ And they are with her uncle,”’ quickly 
returned Alida. ‘‘I am so little of a 
sailor that prudence, if not pusillanimity, 
teaches me to depend on the experience 
of older heads.”’ 

‘‘Older I may not pretend to be,” said 
Ludlow, coloring; “‘but Mr. Van Beve- 
rout will see no pretension in believing 
myself as good a judge of wind and tide as 
even he himself can be.’’ 

“You are said to command her Maj- 
esty’s sloop with skill, Captain Ludlow, 
and it is creditable to the colony that it: 
has produced so good an officer; though 
I believe your grandfather came into the 
province so lately as on the restoration of 
King Charles the Second.”’ 

‘“We cannot claim descent from the 
United Provinces, Alderman Van Beve- 
rout, on the paternal side; but whatever 
may have been the: political opinions of 
my grandfather, those of his descendant 
have never been questioned. Let me en- 
treat the fair Alida to take counsel of the 
apprehension [ am sure she feels, and to 
persuade her uncle that the Coquette is 
safer than his periagua.’’ 

‘“‘ It is said to be easier to enter than th 


a a 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


quit your ship,’’ returned the laughing! learn. 


| Alida. ‘*‘By certain symptoms that at- 
- tended our passage to the island, your 
_ Coquette, like others, is fond of conquests. 
One is not safe beneath so malgn an in- 
fluence.” 

“This is a reputation given by our 
enemies. I had hoped for a different an- 
swer from la belle Barberie.’’ 

The close of the sentence was uttered 
with an emphasis that caused the blood to 
quicken its movements in the veins of the 
maiden. It was fortunate that neither of 
their companions was very observant, or 
else suspicions might have been excited 
that a better intelligence existed between 
the young sailor and the heiress than 
vould have comported with their wishes 
and intentions. 

“T had hoped for a different answer 
from la belle Barberie,’’ repeated Ludlow, 
in a lower voice, but with even a still 
more emphatic tone than before. 

There was evidently a struggle in the 
mind of Alida. She overcame it before 
her confusion could be noticed ; and turn- 
ing to the valet she said, with the com- 
posure and grace that became a gentle- 
woman: 

**Rends moi le livre, Francois.””__ 

“Le voici—ah ! ma chere, Mam/’selle 
Alide, que ce Monsieur le Marin se fachait 
a cause de la gloire, et des beaux vers de 
notre illustre M. Pierre Corneille ! ”’ 

‘‘Here isan English sailor that I am 
sure will not deny the merit of an admired 
writer, even though he come of a nation 
that is commonly called hostile, Fran- 
cois,”” returned his mistress, smiling. 
‘‘Captain Ludlow, it is now a month since 
Iam your debtor, by promise, for a vol- 
ume of Corneille, and I here acquit myself 
of the obligation. When you have 
perused the contents of this book, with 
the attention they deserve, I may hope—’’ 

** For a speedy opinion of their merits.”’ 

““T was about to say, to receive the vol- 
ume again, as it is a legacy from my 
father,’ steadily joined Alida. 

‘“« Legacies and foreign tongues !’’ mut- 
tered the Alderman. <‘“QOne is well 
enough; but for the other, English or 
Dutch are all that the wisest man need 


. © 


529 


I never could understand an ac- 
count of profit and loss in any other 
tongue; and even a favorable balance 
never appears so great as it is, unless the 
account be rendered in one or the other of 
the national dialects. Captain Ludlow, 
we thank you for your politeness, but here 
is one of my fellows to tell us that my 
periagua is arrived; and, wishing you a 
happy and a long cruise, aS we say of 
lives, I bid you adieu.”’ 

The young seaman returned the saluta- 
tions of the party, with a better grace 
than his previous solicitude to persuade 
them to enter his ship might have given 
them reason to expect. He saw them de- 
scend the hill, toward the water of the 
outer bay, with entire composure; and it 
was only after they had entered a thicket 
which hid them from view, that he per- 
mitted his feelings to have sway. 

Then, indeed, he drew the volume from 
his pocket, and opened its leaves with an 
eagerness he could no longer control. It 
seemed as if he expected to read more, in 
the pages, than the author had caused to 
be placed there ; but when his eye caught 
sight of a sealed billet, the legacy of M. 
de Barberie fell at his feet, and the paper 
was torn asunder, with all the anxiety of 
one who expected to find in its contents a 
decree of life or death. 

Amazement was clearly the first emo- 
tion of the young seaman. He read and 
re-read ; struck his brow with his hand ; 
gazed about him at the land and water; 
re-perused the note ; examined the super- 
scription, which was simply to ‘‘ Capt. 
Ludlow, of her Majesty’s ship Coquette ; ”’ 
smiled; muttered between his teeth; 
seemed vexed, yet delighted; read the 
note again word by word, and finally 
thrust it into his pocket, with the air of a 
man who had found reason for both regret 
and satisfaction in its contents. 


CHAPTER VI. 


‘¢What, has this thing appeared again, to-night ?”’ 
—HAMLET. 


‘THE face of man is the log-book of his 
thoughts, and Captain Ludlow’s seems 


530 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


agreeable,’’? observed a voice that came | low, backed by the broadside of the Co- 
~ from one who was not far from the com- } guette and the cross-fire of his marines, is 


mander of the Coquette, while the latter 
was still enacting the pantomime described 
in the close of the preceding chapter. 

‘“Who speaks of thoughts and log- 
books, or who dares to pry into my move- 
ments?’’ demanded the young sailor, 
fiercely. 

<©One who has trified with the first and 
scribbled in the last too often not to know 
how to meet a squall, whether it be seen 
in the clouds or only on the face of man. 
As for looking into your movements, Cap- 
tain Ludlow, I have watched too many big 
ships in my time to turn aside at each light 
cruiser that happens to cross my course. 
I hope, sir, you have an answer; every 
hail has its right to a civil reply.’’ 

Ludlow could scarce believe his senses, 
when, on turning to face the intruder, he 
saw himself confronted by the audacious 
eye and calm mien of the mariner who had 
once before, that morning, braved his re- 
sentment. Curbing his indignation, how- 
_ ever, the young man endeavored to emu- 
late the coolness which, notwithstanding 
his inferior condition, imparted to the air 
of the other something that was imposing, 
if it were not authoritative. Perhaps the 
singularity of the adventure aided in 
effecting an object that was a little diffi- 
cult of attainment in one accustomed to 
receive so much habitual deference from 
most of those who made the sea their 
home. Swallowing his resentment, the 
young commander answered : 

‘¢He that knows how to face his ene- 
mies with spirit may be accounted suffi- 
ciently bold: but he who braves the anger 
of his friends is foolhardy.’’ 

«¢ And he who does neither is wiser than 
both,”’ rejoined the hero of the sash. ‘ Cap- 
tain Ludlow, we meet on equal terms, at 
present, and the parley may be managed 
with some freedom.”’’ 

‘‘Kquality isa word that ill applies to 
men of stations so different.”’ 

‘Of our stations and duties it is not 
necessary to speak. I hope that, when the 
proper time shall come, both may be 
found ready to be at the first, and equal 
to discharge the last. But Captain Lud- 


not Captain Ludlow alone on a sea-bluff, 
with a crutch no longer than his arm and 
a stout heart. As the first, he is like a 
spar supported by backstays and forestays, 
braces and standing-rigging ; while as the 
latter, he is the stick which keeps his head 
aloft by the soundness and quality of its 
timber. You have the appearance of one 
who can go alone, even though it blew 
heavier than at present, if one may judge 
of the force of the breeze by the manner it 
presses on the sails of yonder boat in the 
bay.”’ 


truly !’’ said Ludlow, suddenly losing all 
other interest in the appearance of the 
periagua which held Alida and her friends, 
and which, at that instant, shot out from 
beneath the cover of the hill into the broad 
opening of Raritan Bay. ‘“‘ What think 
you of the time, my friend ? a man of your 
years should speak with knowledge of the 
weather. ”’ 

‘¢ Women and winds are only understood 
when fairly in motion,’’ returned he of the 
sash; “now any mortal who consulted 
comfort and the skies would have preferred 
a passage in her Majesty’s ship Coquette 
to one in yonder dancing periagua; yet 
the fluttering silk we see in the boat tells 
us there is one who has thought other- 
wise.’ 

“You are a man of singular intelli- 
gence,’ cried Ludlow, again facing the 
intruder ; ‘‘as well as one of singular——”’ 

‘‘Hifrontery,’’ rejoined the other, ob- 
serving that the commander hesitated. 
‘‘Let the commissioned officer of the 
Queen speak boldly ; 1am no better than 
a topman, or at most a quartermaster.” 

“I wish to say nothing disagreeable, 
but I find your knowledge of my offer to 
convey the lady and her friends to the 
residence of Alderman Van Beverout, a 
little surprising.’’ 

‘And I see nothing to wonder at in 
your offer to convey the lady anywhere, 
though the liberality to her friends is not. 
an act of so clear explanation. When 
young men speak from the heart, their 
words are not uttered in whispers.”’ 


‘“Yonder boat begins to feel the wind, 


| 


Which would imply that you over- 
heard our conversation. I believe it, for 
here is cover at hand to conceal you. It 
may be, sir, that you have eyes as well as 
ears.” 
 «T confess to have seen your counte- 
nance changing sides, like a member of 
parliament turning to a new leaf in his 
conscience at the minister’s signal, while 
you overhauled a bit of paper——”’ 

‘Whose contents you could not know!”’ 
_ “Whose contents I took to be some pri- 
vate orders, given by a lady who is too 
much of a coquette herself to accept your 
offer to sail in a vessel of the same name.”’ 
_ “By heavens, the fellow has reason in 
his inexplicable impudence!’’ muttered 
Ludlow, pacing backward and forward 
beneath the shadow of the tree. “The 
language and acts of the girl are in con- 
tradiction, and I am a fool to be trifled 
with, like a midshipman fresh broken 
loose from his mother’s apron-string. 
‘Harkee, Master—a—a— You’ve a name, 
I suppose, like any other straggler on the 
ocean.’ 

“Yes. When the hail is loud enough 
to be heard, I answer to the call of 
Thomas Tiller.’ 

_ “ Well, then, Master Tiller, so clever a 
seaman should be glad to serve the 
Queen.”’ 

“Were it not for duty to another, whose 
claim comes first, nothing could be more 
agreeable than to lend a lady in distress a 
helping hand.’’ 

*“And who is he, who may prefer a 
claim to your services in competition with 
the Majesty of these realms? ’’ demanded 
Ludlow, with a little of the pretension 
that, when speaking of its privileges, i 
apt to distinguish the manner of one who 
bg been accustomed to regard royalty 
with reverence. 

“Myself. When our affairs call us the 
same way, no one can be readier than I to 
xeep her Majesty’s company ; but——”’ 

“This is presuming too far, on the tri- 
ling of a moment,”’ interrupted Ludlow ; 
“you know, sirrah, that I have the right 
0 command your services, without enter- 
ng into a parley for them; and which, 
lotwithstanding your gay appearance, 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


531 


may, after all, be little worth the 
trouble.’’ 

‘There is no need to push matters to 
extremity between us, Captain Ludlow,” 
resumed the stranger, who had appeared 
to muse for a moment. ‘‘If I have baffled 
your pursuit once to-day, it was per- 
haps to make my merit in entering the 
ship freely less undeniable. We are here 
alone, and your honor will account it no 
boasting, if I say that a man well-limbed 
and active, who stands six feet between 
plank and carline, is not likely to be led 
against his will, like a yawl towing at the 
stern of a four-and-forty. I[amaseaman, 
sir; and though the ocean is my home, I 
never venture on it without sufficient foot- 
ing. Look abroad from this hill, and say 
whether there is any craft in view, except 
the crusier of the Queen, which would be 
likely to suit the taste of a mariner of the 
long voyage.”’ 

‘* By which you would have me undér- 
stand you are here in quest of service ?”’ 

‘* Nothing less; and though the opinion 
of a foremast Jack may be of little value, 
you will not be displeased to hear that I 
might look farther without finding a pret- 
tier sea-boat, or a swifter, than the one 
which sails under your own orders. A 
Seaman of your station, Captain Ludlow, 
is not now to learn that a man speaks 
differently, while his name is his own, 
and after he has given it away to the 
crown, and therefore I hope my present 
freedom will not be very long remem- 
bered.”’ 

‘“‘T have met men of your humor, before, 
my friend, and | have not now to learn, 
that a thorough man-of-war’s man is as 
impudent on shore as he is obedient afloat. 
Is that a sail, in the offing, or is it the 
wing of a sea-fowl, glittering in the sun ? ”’ 

“It may be either,’’ observed the au- 
dacious mariner, turning his eyes leisurely 


toward the open ocean, ‘‘ for we have a 


wide lookout from this windy bluff. Here 
are gulls sporting above the waves, that 
turn their feathers toward the light.”’ 
‘‘Look more seaward. That spot of 
shining white should be the canvas of some 
craft, hovering in the offing! ”’ 
‘‘ Nothing more probable, in so light a 


532 WORKS 
breeze. Your coasters are in and out, 
like water-rats on a wharf, at any hour 
of the twenty-four—and yet to me it 
seems the comb of a breaking sea.”’ 
<©?Tis snow-white duck; such as your 
swift rover wears on his loftier spars!” 

«A duck that is flown,’’ returned the 
stranger dryly, ‘‘ for it is no longer to be 
seen. These flyaways, Captain Ludlow, 
give us seamen many sleepless nights and 
idle chases. I was once running down 
the coast of Italy, between the Island of 
Corsica and the main, when one of these 
delusions beset the crew, in a manner that 
hath taught me to put little faith in eyes, 
unless backed by a clear horizon and a 
cool head.’’ 

“T’ll hear the circumstance,’’ said 
Ludlow, withdrawing his gaze from the 
distant ocean, like one who was satisfied 
his senses had been deceived. ‘‘ What of 
this marvel of the Italian seas? ”’ 

«A marvel truly, as your honor will 
confess, when I read you the affair, much 
in the words I had it logged, for the 
knowledge of all concerned. It was the 
last hour of the second dog-watch on 
Easter Sunday, with the wind here at 
southeast-easterly. A light air filled the 
upper canvas, and just gave us command 
of the ship. The mountains of Corsica 
with Monte Christo and Elba, had all 
been sunk some hours, and we were on 
the yards, keeping a lookout for a land- 
fall on the Roman coast. A low, thick 
bank of drifting fog lay along the sea, in- 
shore of us, which all believed to be the 
sweat of the land, and thought no more 
of ; though none wished to enter it, for 
that is a coast where foul airs rise, and 
through which the gulls and land-birds 
refuse to fly. Well, here we lay, the 
mainsail in the brails, the topsails beating 
the mastheads, like a maiden fanning her- 
self when she sees her lover, and nothing 
full but the upper duck, with the sun 
fairly below the water in the western 

board. I was then young and quick of 

eye, as of foot, and therefore among the 

first to see the sight !”’ 
‘“Which was——’’ 


indifference. 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


foul air, that ever rests on that coast 
there was seen an object, that looked like 
ribs of bright light, as if a thousand stars 
had quitted their usual berths in the 
heaven, to warn us off the land by a 
supernatural beacon. 
itself altogether out of nature and s 
prising. 
brighter and more glowing, as if ’twere } 
meant in earnest to warn us from the 
coast. 
to send the glasses aloft, there was seen 
a glittering cross on high, and far above : 
the spars on which earte ships carry 
their private signals.’’ 4 


what did you, to come at the character 0 0: f 
the heavenly symbol ?”’ 4 


berth for bolder mariners. 
was I to see, with the morning sun, th 
snowy hills of Corsica again } 


was never explained ? ”’ 


with the mariners of that sea concern 
the sight, but never found any who cou! 
pretend to have seen it. 
deed one bold enough to say there is < 
church, far inland, of height and magy 
tude sufficient to be seen some leagues 
sea, and that, favored by our positiong™ and 
the mists that hung above the ~ 
grounds, we had seen its upper a 
looming above the fogs, and lighten 


too old in seaman’s experience to credit 


said Ludlow, in- 
terested, in spite of his assumed air of 


“Why, here just above the bank o} 


The sight was in 


As the night thickened, it grew 


But when the word was passed 


«This was indeed extraordinary ! an¢ 


‘‘We wore off shore, and left it a clea 
Glad enoug 


Yeo? 


‘‘And the appearance of that ol 


‘‘Nor ever will be. I have since spol «) 


There was | i 


some brilliant cere ; but we were | 


wild a tale. I know not but a church m 
loom, as well as a hill or a ship; but 
who pretends to say that the hands 
man can thus pile stones among 7 
clouds, should be certain of believers S, 
he pushes the tale too far. ! 

‘¢ Your narrative is extraordinary 
the marvel should have been looked 
closer. It may truly have been a chu 
for there stands an edifice at Rome ¥ v 
towers ne treble the height of a er UL 
masts.’ 

‘Having rarely troubled chur Cr 
know not why a church should 1 
me,’’ said the mariner of the sash, 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


he turned his back on the ocean, as if 
indisposed to regard the waste of water 
longer. ‘‘It is now twelve years since 
that sight was seen, and though a seaman 
of many voyages, my eyes have not 
looked upon the Roman coast from that 
hour to this. Will your honor lead the 
way from the bluff, as becomes your 
rank ? ”’ 

‘Your tale of the burning cross and 
looming church, Master Tiller, had almost 
caused me to forget to watch the move- 
ments of yon periagua,’”’ returned Lud- 
low, who still continued to face the bay. 
“That obstinate old Dutchman—lI say, 
sir, that Mr. Alderman Van Beverout has 
greater confidence in this description of 
craft than I feel myself. I like not the 
looks of yonder cloud, which is rising 
from out the mouth of Raritan, and here, 
seaward, we have a gloomy horizon. By 
Heaven ! there is a sail flying in the offing, 
or my eye hath lost its use and judg- 
ment.”’ . 

‘Your Honor sees the wing of the 
sporting gull again; it has been nigh to 
deceive my sight, which would be to cheat 
the lookout of a man that has the advan- 
tage of some ten or fifteen years’ more 
practice in marine appearances. I re- 
member once, when beating among the 
islands of the China seas, with the trades 
here at southeast ti 

*‘Hnough of your marvels, friend; the 
church is as much as I can swallow in one 
morning. It may have been a gull; for I 
confess the object small; yet it had the 
steadiness and size of a distant sail. There 
is some reason to expect one on our coast, 
for whom a bright and seaman’s watch 
must be had.’’ 

“This may then leave me a choice of 
ships,’’ rejoined Tiller. ‘“‘I thank your 
honor for having spoken, before I had 
given myself away to the Queen; who is 
a lady that is much more apt to receive 
gifts of this nature than to return them.”’ 

“If your respect aboard shall bear any 
proportion to your hardihood on shore, 
you may be accounted a model of civility ! 
But a mariner of your pretension should 
have some regard to the character of the 
vessel in which he takes service.”’ 


533 


‘‘That of which your honor spoke is 
then a buccaneer ? ”’ 

“‘If not a buccaneer, one but little bet- 
ter; a lawless trader, under the most 
favorable view, and there are those who 
think that he, who has gone so far, has 
not stopped short of the end. But the 
reputation of the Skimmer of the Seas 
must be known to one who has navigated 
the ocean as long as you.”’ 

‘You will overlook the curiosity of a 
seafaring man in a matter of his profes- 
sion,’’ returned the mariner of the sash, 
with strong and evident interest in his 
manner. ‘I am lately from a distant 
ocean, and though many tales of the buc- 
caneers of the islands have been narrated, 
I do not remember to have heard of that 
rover, before his name came into the dis- 
course between me and the skipper of the 
boat that plies between this landing and 
the city. I am not altogether what I 
seem, Captain Ludlow; and when farther 
acquaintance and hard service shall have 
brought me more before the eyes of my 
commander, he may not repent having in- 
duced a thorough seaman to enter his ship 
by a little condescension and good nature 
shown while the man was still his own 
master. Your honor will take no offense 
at my boldness, when I tell you I should 
be glad to know more of this unlawful 
trader.”’ | 

Ludlow riveted his eyes on the unmoved 
and manly countenance of his companion. 
There was a vague and undefined suspi- 
cion in that look; but it vanished, as the 
practiced organs drank in the assurance, 
which so much physical promise afforded, 
of the aid of a bold and active mariner. 
Rather amused than offended by the free- 
dom of the request, he turned upon his 
heel, and as they descended the bluff on 
their way toward the place of landing, he 
continued the dialogue. 

‘You are truly from a distant ocean,’’ 
said the young captain of the Coquette, 
smiling like a man who apologizes to him- 
self for an act of what he thought undue 
condescension, ‘‘if the exploits of a brigan- 
tine known by the name of the Water- 
Witch, and of him who commands her, 
under the fit appellation of the Skimmer 


ane «WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


of the Seas, have not yet reached your 
ears. It is now five summers since orders 
have been in the colonies for the cruisers 
to be on the alert to hunt the picaroon ; 
and it is even said, the darmg smuggler 
has often braved the pennants of the nar- 
row seas. *T'would be a bigger ship, if 
not knighthood, to the lucky officer who 
should catch the knave ! ’’ 

‘‘He must drive a money-gaining trade 
to run these risks; and to brave the ef- 
forts of so many skillful gentlemen! May 
I add toa presumption that your honor 
already finds too bold, if one may judge 
by a displeased eye, by asking if report 


‘ speaks to the face and other particulars of 


the person of this—freetrader, one must 
call him, though freebooter should be a 
better word.’’ 

“What matters the personal condition 
of a rogue?’ said Captain Ludlow, who 
perhaps remembered that the freedom of 
their intercourse had been carried as far 
as comported with prudence. 

«What matter, truly ! I asked because 
the description answers a little to that of 
a man I once knew in the seas of farther 
India, and who has long since disappeared, 
though no one can say whither he has 
gone. But this Skimmer of the Seas is 
some Spaniard of the Main, or perhaps a 
Dutchman come from the country that is 
awash, in order to taste of terra firma.”’ 

‘‘Spaniard of the southern coast never 
carried so bold a sail in these seas, nor 
was there ever known a Dutchman with 
solighta heel. The fellow is said to laugh 
at the swiftest cruiser out of England! 
As to his figure, I have heard little good 
of it. ’Tis said, he is some soured officer 
of better days, who has-quitted the inter- 
course of honest men, because roguery is 
so plainly written on his face, that he 
vainly tries to hide it.” 

«Mine was a proper man, and one that 
need not have been ashamed to show his 
countenance among his fellows,’’ said he 
of the sash. ‘‘ This cannot be the same, 
if indeed there be any on the coast. Is’t 
known, your honor, that the man is truly 
here ? ’’ 

*“So goes a rumor; though so many idle 
tales have led me before to seek the smug- 


gler where he is not, that I give but 
little faith to the report. The periagua 
has the wind more at west, and the cloud 
in the mouth of the Raritan is breaking 
into scud. The Alderman will have a 
lucky run of it.”’ 

“And the gulls have gone more sea- 

ward—a certain sign of pleasant weather,’’ 
returned the other, glancing a quick but 
keen look over the horizon, in the offing. 
‘*] believe our rover, with his light duck, 
has taken flight among them! ” 
- “We will then goin pursuit. My ship 
is bound to sea; and it is time, Master. 
Tiller, that I know in what berth you are 
willing to serve the Queen.” 

“God bless her Majesty! Anne is a 
royal lady, and she had a lord high ad- 
miral for her husband. As for a berth, 
sir, one always wishes to be captain, even 
though he may be compeiled to eat his 
rations in the lee-scuppers. I suppose the 
first lieutenancy is filled to your honor’s 
liking ? ”’ _ 

‘‘Sirrah, this is trifling; one of your 
years and experience need not be told that 
commissions are obtained by service.”’ 

“«“Under favor; I confess the error. 
Captain Ludlow, you are a man of honor, 
and will not deceive a sailor who puts 
trust in your word ? ”’ a 

“Sailor or landsman, he is safe who 
has the gage.”’ N 

‘‘Then, sir, ask it. Suffer me to enter — 
your ship; to look into my future mess- 
mates, and to judge of their characters; — 
to see if the vessel suits my humor; and — 
then to quit it, if I find it convenient.”’ 

‘‘Fellow,’’ said Ludlow, ‘‘this impu- 
dence almost surpasseth patience ! ”’ 

“The request is reasonable, as can be 
shown,’’ gravely returned the unknown 
mariner. ‘‘ Now Captain Ludlow of the 
Coquette would gladly tie himself, for bet- 
ter or worse, to a fair lady who has late- 
ly gone on the water, and yet there are 
thousands who might be had with less 
difficulty.’’ 

‘Still deeper and deeper in thy effron- 
tery! And what if this be true? ”’ 

‘‘Sir, a ship is a seaman’s mistres 
nay, when fairly under a pennant, with 
war declared, he may be said to be w 


ded to her, lawfully or not. He becomes 
‘pone of her bone, and flesh of her flesh, 
until death doth them part.’ To such a 
long compact there should be liberty of 
choice. Has not your mariner a taste as 
‘well as your lover? The harpings and 
counter of his ship are the waist and 
shoulders ; the rigging, the ringlets; the 
cut and fit of the sails, the fashion of the 
millinery ; the guns are always called the 
teeth, and her paint is the blush and 
bloom! Here is matter of choice, sir; 
and, without leave to make it, I must 
wish your honor a happy cruise, and the 
Queen a better servitor.”’ 

“Why, Master Tiller,’’ cried Ludlow, 
laughing, ‘‘ you trust too much to these 
stunted oaks, if you believe it exceeds my 
- power to hunt you out of their cover at 
pleasure. But I take you at your word. 
The Coquette shall receive you on these 
conditions, and with the confidence that a 
first-rate city belle would enter a country 
ball-room.”’ 

*¢T follow in your honor’s wake without 
more words,’’ returned he of the sash, for 
the first time respectfully raising his 
canvas cap to the young commander. 
‘Though not actually married, consider 
me a man betrothed.’’ 

It is not necessary to pursue the dis- 
course between the two seamen any fur- 
ther. It was maintained, and with suffi- 
cient freedom on the part of the inferior, 
until they reached the shore, and came in 
full view of the pennant of the Queen, 
when with the tact of an old man-of-war’s 
man, he threw into his manner all the 
respect that was usually required by the 
difference of rank. 

Half an hour later, the Coquette was 
rolling at a single anchor, as the puffs of 
wind came off the hills on her three top- 
sails; and shortly after she was seen 
standing through the Narrows, with a 
fresh southwesterly breeze. In all these 
movements there was nothing to attract 
attention. Notwithstanding the sarcastic 
allusions of Alderman Van Beverout, the 
cruiser was far from being idle; and her 
passage outward was a circumstance of 
so common occurrence that it excited no 
comment among the boatmen of the bay 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


535 


and the coasters, who alone witnessed 
her departure. 


CHAPTER VII. 


“Tam no pilot; yet, wert thou as far 
As that vast shore washed with the farthest sea, 
I would adventure for such merchandise.’’ 
—ROMEO AND JULIET. 


A HAPPY mixture of land and water, 
seen by a bright moon, and beneath the 
sky of the fortieth degree of latitude, can- 
not fail to make a pleasing picture. Such 
was the landscape which the reader must 
now endeavor to present to his mind. 

The wide estuary of Raritan is shut in 
from the winds and billows of the open 
sea by a long, low, and narrow cape, or 
point, which, by a medley of the Dutch 
and English languages, that is by no 
means rare in the names of places that lie 
within the former territories of the United 
Provinces of Holland, is known by the 
name of Sandy Hook. This tongue of 
land appears to have been made by the 
unremitting and opposing actions of the 
waves on one side, and of the currents of 
the different rivers that empty their waters 
into the bay, on the other. It is common- 
ly connected with the low coast of New 
Jersey, to the south; but there are 
periods of many years in _ succession, 
during which there exists an inlet from 
the sea, between what may be termed the 
inner end of the cape and the mainland. 


During these periods, Sandy Hook, of - 


course, becomes an island. Such was the 
fact at the time of which it is our business 
to write. 

The outer or ocean side of this low and 
narrow bank of sand is a smooth and reg- 
ular beach, like that seen on most of the 
Jersey coast, while the inner is intended 
in a manner to form several convenient 
anchoring-grounds for ships that seek a 
shelter from easterly gales. One of the 
latter is a circular and pretty cove, in 
which vessels of a light draught are com- 
pletely embayed, and where they may in 
safety ride secure from any winds that 
blow. The harbor—or, as it is always 
called, the Cove—lies at the point where 


536 


the cape joins the main, and the inlet just 
named communicates directly with its 
waters whenever the passage is open. 
The Shrewsbury, a river of the fourth or 
fifth class, or, in other words, a stream of 
a few hundred feet in width, and of no 
great length, comes from the south run- 
ning nearly parallel with the coast, and 
becomes a tributary of the bay, also, at a 
point near the Cove. Between the Shrews- 
bury and the sea, the land resembles that 
on the cape, being low and sandy, though 
not entirely without fertility. It is cov- 
ered with a modest growth of pines and 
oaks, where it is not either subject to the 
labors of the husbandman, or in natural 
meadow. But the western bank of the 
river is an abrupt and high acclivity, 
which rises to the elevation of a ‘moun- 
tain. It was near the base of the latter 
that Alderman Van Beverout, for reasons 
that may be-more fully developed as we 
proceed in our tale, had seen fit to erect 
his villa, which, agreeably to a usage of 
Holland, he had called the Lust in Rust ; 
an appellation that the merchant, who 
had read a few of the ciassics in his boy- 
hood, was wont to say meant nothing 
more nor less than ‘‘otium cum digni- 
tate.’’ 

Ifa love of retirement and a pure air 
had its influence in determining the selec- 
tion of the burgher of Manhattan, he could 
not have made a better choice. The ad- 
joining lands had been occupied, early in 
the previous century, by a respectable 
family of the name of Hartshorne, which 
continues seated at the place to the pres- 
ent hour. The extent of their possessions 
served, at that day, to keep others at a 
distance. If to this fact be added the 
formation and quality of the ground, 
which was, at so early a period, of trifling 
value for agricultural purposes, it will be 
seen there was as little motive as there 
was opportunity for strangers to intrude. 
As to the air, it was refreshed by the 
breezes of the ocean, which was scarcely 
a mile distant; while it had nothing to 
render it unhealthy or impure. With 
this sketch of the general features of the 
scene where so many of our incidents oc- 
curred, we shall proceed to describe the 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 1 


habitation of the Alderman a little more 
in detail. 

The villa of the Lust in Rust was a low 
irregular edifice, in bricks, whitewashed 
to the color of the driven snow, and in a 
taste that was altogether Dutch. There’ 
were many gables and weathercocks, a 
dozen small and twisted chimneys, with 
numberless facilities that were intended 
for the nests of the storks. These airy 
sites were, however, untenanted, to the 
great admiration of the honest architect, 
who, like many others that bring into this 
hemisphere habits and opinions that are 
better suited to the other, never ceased 
expressing his surprise on the subject, 
though all the negroes of the neighbor- 
hood united in affirming there was no such 
bird.in America. In front of the house 
there was a narrow, but an exceedingly - 
neat lawn, encircled by shrubbery ; while 
two old elms, that seemed coeval with the 
mountain, grew in the rich soil of which 
the base of the latter was composed. Nor 
was there a want of shade on any part of 
the natural terrace that was occupied by 
the buildings. It was thickly sprinkled 
with fruit trees, and here and there was a 
pine or an oak of native growth. <A de- 
clivity that was rather rapid fell away in — 
front to the level of the mouth of theriver. — 
In short, it was an ample but an unpre- — 
tending country-house, in which no domes- 
tic convenience had been forgotten ; while 
it had little to-boast of in the way of archi- 
tecture, except its rusty vanes and twisted 
chimneys. A few out-houses for the ac- — 
commodation of the negroes were nigh ~ 
and nearer to the river ; there were barns — 
and stables of dimensions and materials — 
altogether superior to those that the ap- — 
pearance of arable land, or the condition — 
of the small farm would seem to render | 
necessary. The periagua in which the 
proprietor had made his passage across 
the outer bay lay at a small wooden wharf 
immediately below. 

For the earlier hours of evening, the 
flashing of candles, and a general and 
noisy movement among the blacks, had 
denoted the presence of the master of the 
villa. But the activity had gradually 
subsided; and before the clock struck 


nine, the manner in which the lights were 
distributed, -and the general silence, 
showed that the party, most probably 
fatigued with their journey, had already 
separated for the night. The clamor of 
the negroes had ceased, and the quiet of 
deep sleep was already prevailing among 
their humble dwellings. 

At the northern extremity of the villa 
which, it will be remembered, leaned 
against the mountain, and facing the east, 
or fronting the river and the sea, there 
stood a little wing, even more deeply em- 
bowered in shrubbery and low trees than 
the other parts of the edifice, and which 
was constructed altogether in a different 
style. This was a pavilion erected for the 
particular accommodation and at the cost 
of la belle Barberie. Here the heiress of 
the two fortunes was accustomed to keep 
her own little menage during the weeks 
passed in the country; and here she 
amused herself in those pretty and fem- 
inine employments that suited her years 
and tastes. In compliment to the beauty 
and origin of its inhabitant, the gallant 
Francois had christened this particular 
portion of the villa la Cour des Fees, a 
name that had got into general use, 
though somewhat corrupted in sound. 

On the present occasion the blinds of 
the principal apartment of the pavilion 
were open, and its mistress was still to be 
seen at one of the windows. Alida was 
at an age when the sex is most sensible of 
lively impressions, and she looked abroad 
on the loveliness of the landscape, and on 
the soft stillness of the night, with the 
pleasure that such a mind is wont to re- 
ceive from objects of natural beauty. 

There was a young moon, and a firma- 
ment glowing with a myriad of stars. 
The light was shed softly on the water, 
though here and there the ocean glittered 
with its rays. A nearly imperceptible, 
but what seamen call a heavy air, came 
off the sea, bringing with it the refresh- 
ing coolness of the hour. The surface of 
the immense waste was perfectly unruffled, 
both within and without the barrier of 
sand that forms the cape; but the body 
of the element was heaving and setting 
heavily, in a manner to resemble the sleep- 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


537 


ing respiration of some being of huge phys- 
ical frame. The roar of the surf, which 
rolled up in long and white curls upon the 
sands, was the only audible sound; Sut 
that was heavy and incessant, sometimes 
swelling on the air hollow and threaten- 
ing, and at others dying in dull and dis- 
tant murmurs on the ear. 

There was a charm in these varieties of 
sound, and in the solemn stillness of such 
a night, that drew Alida into her little 
balcony ; and she leaned forward beyond 
its shadow of sweet-brier, to gaze at a 
part of the bay that was not visible in 
the front view, from her windows. 

La belle Barberie smiled when she saw 
the dim masts and dark hull of a ship 
which was anchored near the end of the 
cape, and within its protection. There 
was a look of womanly pride in her dark 
eye, and haply some consciousness of 
womanly power in the swell of her rich 
lip, while a taper finger beat the bar of 
the balcony rapidly, and withont con- 
sciousness of its employment. 

‘The loyal Captain Ludlow has quickly 
ended his cruise! ’’ said the maiden aloud, 
for she spoke under the influence of a 
triumph that was too natural to be sup- 
pressed. ‘‘I shall become a convert to 
my uncle’s opinions, and think the Queen 
badly served.”’ 

‘He who serves one mistress faithfully 
has no light task,’’ returned a voice from 
among the shrubbery that grew beneath, 
and nearly veiled the window; ‘‘ but he 
who is devoted to two, may well despair 
of success with both !’’ 

Alida recoiled, and at the next instant 
she saw her place occupied by the com- 
mander of the Coquelte. Before ventur- 
ing to cross the low barrier that still 
separated him from the little parlor, the 
young man endeavored to read the eye of 
its occupant; and then, either mistaking 
its expression, or bold in his years or 
hopes, he entered the room. 

Though certainly unused to have her 
apartment scaled with so little ceremony, 
there was neither apprehension nor won- 
derment in the countenance of the fair 
descendant of the Huguenot. The blood 
mantled more richly on her cheek, and 


538 WORKS 


the brightness of an eye that was never 
dull, increased, while her fine form be- 
came firm and commanding. 

‘*T have heard that Captain Ludlow 
gained much of his renown by gallantry 
in boarding,’’ she said in a voice whose 
meaning admitted of no misconception ; 
‘put I had hoped his ambition was sat- 
isfied with laurels so fairly won from 
the enemies of his country ! ”’ 

«<A thousand pardons, fairest Alida,’’ 
interrupted the youth; “you know the 
obstacles that the jealous watchfulness of 
your uncle opposes to my desire to speak 
with you.”’ 

«They are then opposed in vain, for 
Alderman Van Beverout has weakly be- 
lieved the sex and condition of his ward 
would protect her from these coups-de- 
main.”’ 

“Nay, Alida; this is being more capri- 
cious than the wind! You know too well 
how far my suit is unpleasant to your 
guardian to torture a slight departure 
from cold observances into cause of se- 
rious complaint. I had hoped—perhaps, I 
should say, I had presumed on the contents 
of your letter, for which I return a thou- 
sand thanks; but do not thus cruelly de- 
stroy expectations that have so lately been 
raised beyond the point, perhaps, which 
reason may justify.”’ 

The glow which had begun to subside 
on the face of la belle Barberie again 
deepened, and for a moment it appeared 
as if her high self-dependence was a little 
weakened. After an instant of reflection, 
however, she answered steadily, though 
not entirely without emotion. 

‘*Reason, Captain Ludlow, has limited 
female propriety within narrow limits,’ 
she said. ‘‘ln answering your letter, 
Il have consulted good nature more 
than prudence; and I find that you are 
not Poe, in causing me to repent the 
error. 

«Tf Lever cause you to § pie confidence 
in me, sweet Alida, may disgrace in my 
profession, and the distrust of the whole 
sex, be my punishment! But, have I not 
reason to complain of this inconsistency on 
your part? Ought I to expect so severe a 
reprimand—severe, because cold and iron- 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


i an in We SA 


ical—for an offense, venial as the wish to — 
proclaim my gratitude?” iq 

‘‘ Gratitude !’’ repeated Alida, And this 
time her wonder was not feigned. ‘‘ The 
word is strong, sir; and it expresses more 
than an act of courtesy, so simple as that 
which may attend the lending a volume 
of popular poetry can have any right to 
claim.”’ 

“‘T have strangely misconceived the 
meaning of the letter, or this has been a 
day of folly !’’ said Ludlow, endeavoring 
to swallow his discontent. ‘‘ But, no; lL 
have your own words to refute that avert- 
ed eye and cold look ; and, by the faith of 
a sailor, Alida, I will believe your delib- 
erate and well-reflected thoughts before 
these capricious fancies, which are un- 
worthy of your nature. Here are the very 
words; I shall not easily part with the 
flattering hopes they convey !”’ | 

La belle Barberie now regarded the — 
young man in open amazement. Her — 
color changed ; for of the indiscretion of — 
writing she knew she was not guiltless— 
but of having written in'terms to justify 
the confidence of the other, she felt no con: 
sciousness. The customs of the age, the — 
profession of her suitor, and the hour, in- 
duced her to look steadily into his face, to 
see whether the man stood before her in 
all the decency of his reason. But Lud- 
low had the reputation of being exempt 
from a vice that was then but too common 
among seamen, and there was nothing in 
his ingenuous and really handsome feat- 
ures to cause her to distrust his present 
discretion. She touched a bell, and signed 
to her companion to be seated. 

‘‘Francois,’’ said the mistress, when 
the old valet, but half awake, entered the 
apartment, “fais moi le plaisir de m’ap- 
porter de cette eau de la fontaine du bos- 
quet, et du vin—le Capitaine Ludlow a 
soif; et rappelle-toi, bon Francois, il ne — 
faut pas deranger mon oncle a cette heure ; 
il doit etre bien fatigue de son voyage.”’ 

When her respectful and respectable — 
servitor had recteved his commission and 
departed, Alida took a seat herself, in the 
confidence of having deprived the visit of 
Ludlow of its clandestine character, and 
at the same time having employed the 


valet on an errand that would leave her 
sufficient leisure to investigate the inex- 
plicable meaning of her companion. 

‘You have my word, Captain Ludlow, 
that this unseasonable appearance in the 
pavilion is indiscreet, not to call it cruel,’’ 
she said, so soon as they were again 
alone; ‘‘but that you have it, in any 
manner, to justify your imprudence, I 
must continue to doubt until confronted 
by proof.”’ 

«T had thought to have made a very 
different use of this,’’ returned Ludlow, 
drawing a letter—we admit it with some 
reluctance in one so simple and so manly 
—from his bosom; ‘‘and even now, I 
take shame in producing it, though at 
your own orders.” 

“Some magic has wrought a marvel, 
or the scrawl has no such importance,”’ 
observed Alida, taking a billet that she 
now began to repent having ever written. 
“The langnage of politeness and female 
reserve must admit of strange perver- 
sions, or all who read are not the best 
interpreters.”’ 

La belle Barberie ceased speaking, for 
the instant her eye fell on the paper an 
absorbing and intense curiosity got the 
better of her resentment. We shall give 
the contents of the letter, precisely in the 
words which caused so much amazement, 
and possibly some little uneasiness, to the 
fair creature who was perusing: it. 

“<The life of a seaman,’’ said the paper, in 
a delicate and beautiful female hand, ‘is 
one of danger and exposure. It inspires 
confidence in woman by the frankness to 
which it gives birth, and it merits indul- 
gence by its privations. She who writes this 
isnot insensible to the merit of men of this 
bold calling. Admiration for the sea, and 
for those who live onit, has been her weak- 
ness through life; and her visions of the 
future, like her recollections of the past, 
are not entirely exempt from a contempla- 
tion of its pleasures. The usages of differ- 
ent nations—glory in arms—change of 
scene—with constancy in the affections, 
all sweetened by affluence, are tempta- 
tions too strong for a female imagination, 
and they should not be without their influ- 
ence on the judgment of man. Adieu.’ 


THE WATEHR-WITCH. 


539 


This note was read, re-perused and, for 
the third time conned, ere Alida ventured 
to raise her eyes to the face of the expect- 
ant young man. 

‘‘And this indelicate and unfeminine 
rhapsody, Captain Ludlow has_ seen 
proper to ascribe to me! ”’ she said, while 
her voice trembled between. pride and 
mortification. 

‘To whom else can I impute it? No 
other, lovely Alida, could utter language 
so charming, in words so_ properly 
chosen.’ 

The long lashes of the maiden played 
quickly about their dark organs; then, 
conquering feelings that were strangely 
in contradiction to each other, she said 
with dignity, turning to a little escritoire 
which lay beside her dressing-box— 

‘“‘My correspondence is neither very 
important nor very extensive; but such 
as it is, happily for the reputation. of the 
writer’s taste, if not for her sanity, I be- 
lieve it is in my power to show the trifle 
I thought it decorous to write, in reply to 
your own letter. Here is a copy,’’ she 
added, opening what in fact was a draught, 
and reading aloud. 

«‘T thank Captain Ludlow for his atten- 
tion in affording me an opportunity of 
reading a narrative of the cruel deeds of 
the buccaneers. In addition to the ordi- 
nary feelings of humanity, one cannot but 
regret that men so heartless are to be 
found in a profession that is commonly 
thought to be generous and tender of the 
weak. We will hope, however, that the 
very wicked and cowardly among seamen 
exist only as foils to render the qualities 
of the very bold and manly more con- 
spicuous. No one can be more sensible 


of this truth than the friends of Captain 


Ludlow,” the voice of Alida fell a little as 
she came to this sentence, ‘‘ who has not 
now to earn a reputation for mercy. In 
return, I send the copy of the ‘Cid,’ 
which honest Francois affirms to be supe- 
rior to all other poems, not even excepting 
Homer—a book of which I believe he is 
innocent of calumniating, from ignorance 
of its contents. Again thanking Captain 
Ludlow for this instance of his repeated 
attentions, I beg he will keep the volume 


540 


until he shall return from his intended 
cruise.”’ 

‘This note is but acopy of the one you 
have, or ought to have,’’ said the niece of 
the Alderman, as she raised her glowing 
face from leaning over the paper, ‘‘ though 
it is not signed, like that, with the name 
of Alida de Barberie.’’ 

When this explanation was over, both 
parties sat looking at each other in silent 
amazement. Still Alida saw, or thought 
she saw, that notwithstanding the pre- 
vious professions of her admirer, the young 
man rejoiced he had been deceived. Re- 
spect for delicacy and reserve in the other 
sex is so general and natural among men, 
that they who succeed the most in destroy- 
ing its barriers rarely fail to regret their 
triumph ; and he who truly loves can 
never’ long exult in any violation of pro- 
priety in the object of his affections, even 
though the concession be made in his own 
favor. Under the influence of this com- 
mendable and healthful feeling, Ludlow, 
while he was in some respects mortified at 
the turn affairs had taken, felt sensibly re- 
lieved from a load of doubt to which the 
extraordinary language of the letter he 
believed his mistress to have written had 
given birth. His companion read the state 
of his mind in a countenance as frank as 
the face of sailor could be; and though 
secretly pleased to gain her former place 
in his respect, she was also vexed and 
wounded that he had ever presumed to 
distrust her reserve. She still held the in- 
explicable billet, and her eyes naturally 
sought the lines. A sudden thought 
seemed to strike her mind, and returning 
the paper, she said, coldly— 

‘Captain Ludlow should know his cor- 
respondent better; I much mistake if this 
be the first of her communications.’’ 

The young man colored to the temples 
and hid his face for a moment in the hol- 
low of his hand. 

“You admit the truth of my _ sus- 
picions,’’ continued la belle Barberie, 
‘fand cannot be insensible of my justice 
when I add that henceforth——’’ 

«Listen to me, Alida,’’ cried the youth, 
half breathless in his haste to interrupt 
a decision that he dreaded; “hear me, 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


and, as Heaven is my judge, you shall 
hear only truth. I confess this is not the 
first of the letters, written in the same 
hand—perhaps I should say in the same 
spirit—but, on the honor of a loyal officer, 
I affirm that until circumstances lead me 
to think myself so happy —so very 
happy 

‘‘T understand you, sir; the work was 
anonymous, until you saw fit to inscribe 
my name as its author. Ludlow! Lud- 
low! how meanly have you thought of the 
woman you profess to love! ”’ 

‘‘That were impossible! Imingle little 
with those who study the finesse of life ; 
and loving, as I do, my noble profession, 
Alida, was it so unnatural to believe that 
another might view it with the same eyes? 
But since you disavow the letter—nay, 
your disapproval is unnecessary; I see 
my vanity has even deceived me in the 
writing—but since the delusion, is over, I 
confess that I rejoice it is not so.”’ 

La belle Barberie smiled, and her coun- 
tenance grew brighter. She enjoyed the 
triumph of knowing that she merited the 
respect of her suitor, and it was a triumph 
heightened by recent mortification. Then 
succeeded a pause of more than a minute. 
The embarrassment of the silence was 
happily interrupted by the return of 
Francois. 

‘““Mam/’selle Alide, voici de l’eau de la 
fontaine,’’ said the valet; ‘‘mais Mon- 
sieur votre oncle s’est couche, et il a mis 
la clef de la cave au vin dessous son 
oreiller. Ma foi, ce n’est pas facile d’avoir 
du bon vin du tout, en Amerique, mais — 
apres que Monsieur le Maire s’est couche, 
c’est toujours impossible ; voila ! ”’ 

‘<N’importe, mon cher ; le Capitaine va — 
partir, etil n’a plus soif.”’ : 

“‘Dere is assez de jin,’’ continued the 
valet, who felt for the Captain’s disap- — 
pointment, ‘‘mais Monsieur Loodle have 
du gout, an’ he n’aime pas so strong 
liqueur.”’ | 

‘‘He has swallowed already more than — 
was necessary for one occasion,’’ said 
Alida, smiling on her admirer in a man- 
ner that left him doubtful whether he 
ought most to repine or to rejoice. 
“Thank you, Francois; your duty for 


99 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


5A 


ihe night shall sue with lighting the | tant, on dit, qu’il doit avoir de jolies mai- 


Wospiain to the door.’ 

| Then saluting the young commander in 
9 manner that would not admit of denial, 
la belle Barberie dismissed her lover and 
the valet together. 

«“You have a pleasant office, Monsieur 
Francois,’ said the former, as he was 
lighted to the outer door of the pavilion ; 
«it is one that many a gallant gentleman 
would envy.”’ 

<‘ Oui, sair; it be grand plaisir to serve 
~Mam’selle Alide. Je porte de fan, de 
book, mais quant au vin, Monsieur le 
Capitaine, parole d’honneur, c’est tou- 
jours impossible apres que l’aldermain 
s’est couche.”’ 

«“Aye—the book—I think you had the 
agreeable duty, to-day, of carrying the 
book of la Belle ?’’ 

“Vraiment, oui! ’*Twas ouvrage de 
Monsieur Pierre Corneille. On pretend, 
que Monsieur Shak-a-spear en a emprunte 
 d’assez beaux sentiments !”’ 

«‘And the paper between the leaves ?— 
you were charged also with that note, 
good Francois ?”’ 

The valet paused, shrugged his shoul- 
ders, and laid one of his long yellow 
fingers on the plane of an enormous aqui- 
line nose, while he seemed to muse. Then 
shaking his head perpendicularly, he pre- 
ceded the Captain as before, muttering as 
usual, half in French and half in English— 

‘‘For le papier, I know rein du tout ; 
e’est bien possible, parceque, voyez vous, 
Monsieur le Capitaine, Mam’selle Alide 
did say, Prenz-y garde; but I no see him, 
depuis. Je suppose *twas beaux compli- 
ments ecrits on de vers of M. Pierre Cor- 
neille. Quel genie que celui de cet homme 
la !—n’est ce pas, Monsieur ? ”’ 

‘“Ttis of no consequence, good Francois,”’ 
said Ludlow, slipping a guinea into the 
hands of the valet. ‘‘If you should ever 
discover what became of that paper, how- 
ever, you will oblige me by letting me 
know. Good-night; mes devoirs a la 
Belle! ”’ 

‘¢ Bon soir, Monsieur le Capitaine ; c’est 
un brave Monsieur que celui-la, et de tres 
bonne famille! Il n’a pas de si grandes 
terres, que Monsieur le Patteroon, pour- 


sons et assez derentes publiques! J’aime 
a servir un si genereux et loyal maitre, 
mais, malheureusement, il est marin! M. 
de Barberie n’avait pas trop d’amitie pour 
les gens de cette profession la.”’ 


—_—_—_———_—— 


CHAPTER VIII. 


“Well, Jessica, go in; 
Perhaps, I will return immediately ; 
Do as I bid you, 
Shut doors after you; Fast bind, fast find ; 
A proverb never stale, in thrifty mind.” 
—MERCHANT OF VENICE. 


THE decision with which la demoiselle 
Barberie had dismissed her suitor, was 
owing to some consciousness that she had 
need of opportunity to reflect on the singu- 
lar nature of the events which had -just 
happened, no less than to a sense of the 
impropriety of his visiting her at that hour 
and in a manner so equivocal. But, like 
others who act from feverish impulses, 
when alone the maiden repented of her 
precipitation ; and she remembered fifty 
questions which might aid in clearing the 
affair of its mystery, that she would now 
gladly put. It was too late, however, for 
she had heard Ludlow take his leave, and 
had listened in breathless silence to his 
footstep, as he passed the shrubbery of 
her little lawn. Francois reappeared at 
the door, to repeat. his wishes for her rest 
and happiness, and then she believed she 
was finally alone for the night, since the 
ladies of that age and country were little 
apt to require the assistance of their 
attendants, in assuming or in divesting 
themselves of their ordinary attire. 

[It was still early, and the recent inter- 
view had deprived Alida of all inclination 
for sleep. She placed the light in a dis- 
tant corner of the apartment, and ap- 
proached a window. The moon had so 
far changed its position as to cast a differ- 
ent light upon the water. The hollow 
washing of the surf, the dull but heavy 


‘breathing of the air from the sea, and the 


soft shadows of the trees and mountain, 
were much the same. The Coquette lay, 
as before, at her anchor near the cape, 
and the Shrewsbury glittered toward the 


542 WORKS 


south, until its surface was concealed by 
the projection of a high and nearly per- 
pendicular bluff. 

The stillness was profound, for, with 
the exception of the dwelling of the family 
who occupied the estate nearest the villa, 
there was no other habitation within some 
miles of the place. Still the solitude of 
the situation was undisturbed by any ap- 
prehension of danger, or any tradition of 
violence from rude and lawless men. The 
peaceable character of the colonists who 
dwelt in the interior country was prover- 
bial, and their habits simple; while the 
ocean was never entered by those barba- 
rians who then rendered some of the seas 
of the other hemisphere as fearful as they 
were pleasant. 

Notwithstanding this known and custo- 
mary character of tranquillity, and the 
lateness of the hour, Alida had not been 
many moments in her balcony before she 
heard the sound of oars. The stroke was 
measured, and the noise low and-distant, 
but it was too familiar to be mistaken. 
She wondered at the expedition of Ludlow, 
who was not accustomed to show such 
haste in quitting her presence, and leaned 
over the railing to catch a glimpse of his 
departing boat. Kach moment she ex- 
pected to see the little bark issue from out 
of the shadows of the land, into the sheet 
of brightness which stretched nearly to 
the cruiser. She gazed long and in vain, 
for no barge appeared, yet the sound had 
become inaudible. A light still hung at 
the peak of the Coquette, a sign that the 
commander was out of his vessel. 

The view of a fine ship, seen by the 
aid of the moon, with its symmetry of 
spars, and its delicate tracery of cordage, 
and the heavy and grand movements of 
the hull as it rolls on the sluggish billows 
of a calm sea, is ever a pleasing and in- 
deed an imposing spectacle. Alida knew 
that more than a hundred human beings 
slept within the black and silent mass, and 
her thoughts insensibly wandered to the 
business of their daring lives, their limited 
abode, and yet wandering existence, their 
frank and manly qualities, their devotion 
to the cause of those who occupied the 
land, their broken and interrupted con- 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


nection with the rest of the human family, 
and finally to those weakened domestic 
ties, and to that reputation for inconstan- 
cy, which are apparently a natural conse- 
quence to all. 

She sighed, and her eye wandered tron 
the ship to that ocean on which it was 
constructed to dwell. From the distant, 
low, and nearly imperceptible shore of the 
island of Nassau, to the coast of New Jer- 
sey, there was one broad and untenanted 
waste. Even the sea-fowl rested his tired 
wing, and slept tranquilly on the water. 
The broad space appeared like some great 
and unfrequented desert, or rather like a 
denser and more material copy of the fir- 
mament by which it was canopied. 

It has been mentioned that a stunted 
growth of oaks and pines covered much 
of the sandy ridge that formed the cape. 
The same covering furnished a dark set- 
ting to the waters of the cove. Above 
this outline of wood, which fringed the 
margin of the sea, Alida now fancied she 
saw an object in motion. At first, she 
believed some ragged and naked tree, of 
which the coast had many, was so placed 
as to deceive her vision, and had thrown 
its naked lines upon the background of 
water, ina manner to assume the shape 
and tracery of a light-rigged vessel. But 
when the dark and symmetrical spars_ 
were distinctly seen, gliding past objects 
that were known to be stationary, it was_ 
impossible to doubt their character. The 
maiden wondered, and her surprise was 
not unmixed with apprehension. It seemed 
as if the stranger, for such the vessel 
must needs be, was recklessly approach- 
ing a surf, that, in its most tranquil ma 
ments, was dangerous to such a fabric, 
and that he steered, unconscious of haz- 
ard, directly upon the land. Even the 
movement was mysterious and unusual. 
Sails there were none, and yet the light 
and lofty spars were soon hid behind a 
thicket that covered a knoll near the 
margin of the sea. Alida expected each 
moment to hear the cry of mariners i 
distress; then, as the minutes passed on 
and no such fearful sound interrupte 
the stillness of the night, she began to 
bethink her of those lawless rovers wh 


_ were known to abound among the Carib- 
bean isles, and who were said sometimes 
even to enter and to refit in the smaller 
and more secret inlets of the American 
continent. 

The tales, coupled with the deeds, char- 
acter, and fate of the notorious Kidd, were 
then still recent, and although magnified 
and colored by vulgar exaggerations, as 
all such tales are known to be, enough 
was believed by the better instructed to 
make his life and death the subject of 
many curious and mysterious rumors. 
At this moment, she would have gladly 
recalled the young commander of the 
- Coquette, to apprise him of the enemy 
that was nigh; then, ashamed of terrors 
that she was fain to hope savored more of 
woman’s weakness than of truth, she en- 
deavored to believe the whole some ordi- 


nary movement of a coaster, who, familiar | 


with his situation, could not possibly be 
either in want of aid or an object of alarm. 
Just as this natural and consoling conclu- 
sion crossed her mind, she very audibly 
heard a step in her pavilion. It seemed 
near the door of the room she occupied. 
Breathless, more with the excitement of 
her imagination than with any actual fear 
created by this new cause of alarm, the 
maiden quitted the balcony, and stood 
motionless to listen. The door, in truth, 
was opened with singular caution, and, 
for an instant, Alida saw nothing but a 
confused area, in the center of which ap- 
peared the figure of a menacing and rapa- 
cious freebooter. 

“Northern lights and moonshine 
growled Alderman Van Beverout, for it 
was no other than the uncle of the heiress, 
whose untimely and unexpected visit had 
caused her so much alarm. ‘This sky- 
watching, and turning of night into day, 
will be the destruction of thy beauty, 
niece; and we shall see how plenty 
Patroons are for husbands! A bright 
eye and a blooming cheek are thy stock in 
trade, girl; and she is a spendthrift of 
both, who is out of her bed when the 
clock hath struck ten.”’ 

«Your discipline would deprive many a 
beauty of the means of using her power,”’ 
returned la demoiselle, smiling as much 


"2? 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


543 


at the folly of her recent fears, as with 
affection for her reprover. ‘‘ They tell 
me, that ten is the witching time of 
night, for the necromancy of the dames 
of Kurope.’’ 

‘‘ Witch me no witches! The name re- 
minds one of the cunning Yankees, a race 
that would outwit Lucifer himself, if left 
to set the conditions to their bargain. 
Here is the Patroon, wishing to let in a 
family of the knaves among the honest 
Dutchmen of his manor; and we have 
just settled a dispute between us, on this 
subject, by making the lawful trial.’’ 


«Which it may be proper to hope, , 


dearest uncle, 
battle ? ’’ 

‘«¢ Peace and olive-branches, no! The 
Patroon of Kinderhook is the last man in 
the Americas that is likely to suffer by 
the blows of Myndert Van Beverout. I 
challenged the boy to hold a fine eel, that 
the blacks have brought out of the river 
to help in breaking our morning fasts, 
that it might be seen if he were fit to deal 
with the slippery rogues. By the merit 
of the peaceable St. Nicholas ! but theson 
of old Hendrick Van Staats had a busy 
time of it! The lad gripped the fish, as 
the ancient tradition has it that thy uncle 
clenched the Holland florin, when my 
father put it between my fingers, within 
the month, in order to see if the true sav- 
ing grace was likely to abide in the family 
for another generation. My heart mis- 
gave me for a moment; for young Oloff 
has the fist of a vise, and I thought the 
goodly names of the Harmans and Rips, 
Corneliuses and Dircks of the manor rent- 
roll were likely to be contaminated by the 
company of an Increase or a Peleg; but 
just as the Patroon thought that he had 
the watery viper by the throat, the fish 
gave an unexpected twist, and slid through 
his fingers by the tail. Flaws and loop- 
holes! but that experiment has as much 
wisdom as wit in it !”’ 

<¢And to me, it seemeth better, now 
that Providence has brought all the 
colonies under one government, that these 
prejudices should be forgotten. Wearea 
people sprung from many nations, and our 


was not the trial by 


efforts should be to preserve the liberality 


6 


544 


and intelligence, while we forget the weak- 
nesses of all.’’ 

‘«Bravely said, for the child of a Hugue- 
not! But I defy the man who brings 
prejudice to my door. I like a merry 
trade, and a quick calculation. Let me 
see the man in all New England that can 
tell the color of a balance-sheet quicker 
than one that can be named, and I'll 
gladly hunt up the satchel and go to 
“school again. 
looking to his own interests, I; and yet 
common honesty teaches us that there 
should be a convention between men, be- 
yond which none of reputation and char- 
acter ought to go.”’ 

«© Which convention shall be understood 
by every man to be the limits of his own 
faculties; by which means the dull may 
rival the quick of thought. 1 fear me, 
uncle, there should be an eel kept on every 
coast to which a trader comes! ”’ 

‘Prejudice and conceit, child, acting on 
a drowsy head; ’tis time thou seekest thy 
pillow, and in the morning we shall see if 

young Oloff of the Manor shall have bet- 
ter success with thy favor than with the 
prototype of the Jonathans. Here, put 
out these flaring candles, and take a mod- 
est lamp to light thee to thy bed. Glaring 
windows, so near midnight, give a house 
an extravagant name in the neighbor- 
hood.’’ 

‘Our reputation for sobriety may suffer 
in the opinion of the eels,’’ returned Alida, 
laughing, ‘‘but here are few others, I 
believe, to call us dissipated.”’ 

‘One never knows, one never knows,’’ 
muttered the Alderman, extinguishing the 
two large candles of his niece, and substi- 
tuting his own little hand-lamp in their 
place. ‘‘This broad light only invites 
wakefulness, while the dim taper I leave 
is good as a sleeping draught. Kiss me, 
willful one, and draw thy curtains close, 
for the negroes will soon rise to load the 
periagua, that they may go up with the 
tide to the city. The noise of the chat- 
tering blackguards may disturb your 
slumbers.’’ 

«‘Truly, it would seem there is little 
here to invite such active navigation,”’ 
returned Alida, saluting the cheek of her 


a 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


L love a man the better for | 


uncle, at his order. ‘‘ The love of trade 
must be strong, when it finds the mate- 
rials of commerce in a solitude similar to 
this.”’ j 

‘Thou hast divined the reason, child. 
Thy father, Monsieur de Barberie, had 
his peculiar opinions upon the subject, and 


doubtless he did not fail to transmit some — 


of them to his offspring. And yet, when 
the Huguenot was driven from his cha- 
teau and his clayey Norman lands, the man 
had no distaste himself for an account cur- 
rent, provided the balance was in his own 
favor. Nations and characters! I find 


little difference, after all, in trade, whether — 
it be driven with a Mohawk for his pack — 


of furs, or with a Seigneur, who has been 
driven from his lands. 
get the profit on his own side of the ac- 
count, and the loss on that of his neighbor. 
So rest thee well, girl ; and remember that 
matrimony is no more than a capital bar- 
gain, on whose success depends the sum 


total of a woman’s comfort—and so, once ~ 


more, good night.”’ 


La belle Barberie attended her uncle : 
dutifully to the door of her pavilion, which — 
she bolted after him; and then, finding ~ 


her little apartment gloomy by the light 


of the small and feeble lamp he had left, — 


she was pleased to bring its flame in con- 
tact with the wicks of the two candles he 


had just extinguished. Placing the three — 
near each other on a table, the maiden ~ 
again drew nigh a window. The unex- — 


pected interview with the Alderman had 


consumed several minutes, and she was 
curious to know more of the unaccount- — 
able movements of the mysterious vessel. — 

The same deep silence reigned about the — 
villa, and theslumbering ocean was heav-— 
ing and setting as heavily as before. Alida — 
again looked for the boat of Ludlow ; but— 


her eye ran over the whole distance of the 
bright and broad streak between her and 
the cruiser in vain. There was the slight 
ripple of the water in the glittering of the 
moon’s rays, but no speck like that the 
barge would make was visible. The 


lantern still shone at the cruiser’s peak. — 


Once, indeed, she thought the sound of 


oars was again to be heard, and much 


nearer than before; yet no effort of her 


Each strives to ° 


' position of the boat. 


4 quick and roving sight could detect the 
" To all these doubts 
succeeded an alarm which sprang from a 


new and very different source. 


The existence of the inlet which united 
the ocean with the waters of the Cove was 
but little known, except to the few whose 
avocations kept them near the spot. The 
pass being much more than half the time 
closed, its varying character, and the lit- 
tle use that could be made of it under any 
circumstances, prevented the place from 
being a subject of general interest with 
the coasters. HKven when open, the depth 
of its water was uncertain, since a week 
or two of calms or of westerly winds would 
permit the tides to clean its channel, while 
a single easterly gale was sufficient to 
choke the entire inlet with sand. No 
wonder, then, that Alida felt an amaze- 
ment which was not quite free from super- 
stitious alarm, when, at that hour and in 
such a scene, she saw a vessel gliding, as 
it were, unaided by sails or sweeps, out of 
the thicket that fringed the ocean side of 
the Cove into its very center. 

The strange and mysterious craft was 
a brigantine of that mixed construction 
which is much used even in the most 
ancient and classical seas of the other 
hemisphere, and which is supposed to unite 
the advantages of both a square and of a 
fore-and-aft rigged vessel, but which is 
nowhere seen to display the same beauty 
of form, and symmetry of equipment, as 
on the coasts of this Union. The first and 
smallest of its masts had all the compli- 
cated machinery of a ship, with its supe- 
‘rior and inferior spars, its wider reaching 
though light and manageable yards, and 
its various sails, shaped and arranged to 
meet every vicissitude and caprice of the 
winds, while the latter, or larger of the 
two, rose like the straight trunk of a pine 
from the hull, simple in its cordage, and 
spreading a single sheet of canvas that 
in itself was sufficient to drive the fabric 
with vast velocity through the water. 

The hull was low, graceful in its out- 
lines, dark as the raven’s wing, and so 
modeled as to float on its element like a 
sea-gull riding the billows. There were 
many delicate and attenuated lines among 

TV .--18 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


‘the reason in’ common disapproves. 


545 


its spars which were intended to spread 
broader folds of canvas to the light airs 
when necessary; but these additions to 
the tracery of the machine, which added 
so much to its beauty by day, were now, 
seen as it was by the dimmer and mors 
treacherous rays of the moon, scarcely 
visible. In short, as the vessel had en- 
tered the Cove floating with the tide, it 
was so singularly graceful and fairy-like » 
in form that Alida at first was fain to dis- 
credit her senses, and to believe it no more 
than some illusion ofthe fancy. Like most 
others, she was ignorant of the temporary 
inlet, and, under the circumstances, it was 
not difficult to lend a momentary credence 
to so pleasing an idea. 

But the delusion was only momentary. 
The brigantine turned in its course, and 
gliding into the part of the Cove where the 
curvature of the shores offered most pro- 
tection from the winds and waves, and 
perhaps from curious eyes, its motion 
ceased. A heavy plunge in the water 
was audible even at the villa, and Alida 
then knew that an anchor had fallen into 
the bay. 

Although the coast of North America 
offered little to invite lawless depreda- 
tion, and it was in general believed to be 
so safe, yet the possibility that cupidity 
might be invited by the retired situation 
of her uncle’s villa did not fail to suggest 
itself to the mind of the young heiress. 
Both she and her guardian were reputed 
to be wealthy; and disappointment on 
the open sea might drive desperate men 
to the commission of crimes that in more 
prosperous moments would not suggest 
themselves. The freebooters were said 
to have formerly visited the coast of the 
neighboring island, and men were just 
commencing those excavations for hidden 
treasures and secreted booty which have 
been, at distant intervals, continued to our 
own time. 

There are situations in which the mind 
insensibly gives credit to impressions that 
The 
present was one in which Alida de Bar- 
berie, though of a resolute, and even a 
musculine understanding, felt disposed to 
believe there might be truth in those tales 


546 


that she had hitherto heard only to 
deride. Still keeping her eye on the 
motionless vessel, she drew back into 
her window, and wrapped the curtain 
round her form, undecided whether to 
alarm the family or not, and acting under 
a vague impression that, though so dis- 
tant, her person might be seen. She was 
hardly thus secreted before the shrubbery 
was violently agitated, a footstep was 
heard in the lawn beneath her window, 
and one leaped so lightly into the balcony, 
and from the balcony into the center of 
the room, that the passage of the figure 
seemed like the flitting of some creature 
of supernatural attributes. 


————EEE) 


CHAPTER IX. 


«* Why look you, how you stare ! 
I would be friends with you and have your love.” 
' —SHYLOCK. 


THE first impulse of Alida, at this 
second invasion of her pavilion, was cer- 
tainly to flee. But timidity was not her 
weakness, and as natural firmness gave 
her time to examine the person of the 
individual who had so unceremoniously 
entered, curiosity aided in inducing her to 
remain. Perhaps a vague, but a very 
natural expectation that she was again 
to dismiss the commander of the Co- 
quette, had its influence on her first 
decision. In order that the reader may 
judge how far this boldness was excus- 
able, we shall describe the person of the 
intruder. 

The stranger was one in the very bud 
of young and active manhood. His years 
could not have exceeded two-and-twenty, 
nor would he probably have been thought 
so old had not his features been shaded 
by a rich brown hue, that in some degree 
served as a foil to a natural complexion, 
which though never fair, was still clear 
and blooming. A pair of dark, bushy, 
and jet-black silken whiskers, that were 
in singular contrast to eyelashes and 
brows of feminine beauty and softness, 
aided also in giving a decided expression 
to a face that might otherwise have been 


wanting in some of that character which] 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


is thought essential to comeliness in man. 


The forehead was smooth and low; the 


nose, though prominent and bold in out-— 


line, of exceeding delicacy in detail; the 
mouth and lips full, a little imelined to be 
arch, though the former appeared as if 


it might at times be pensive; the teeth — 


were even and unsullied, and the chin was 
small, round, dimpled, and so carefully 
divested of the distinguishing mark of 
the sex that one could fancy Nature had 


contributed all its growth to adorn the — 


neighboring cheeks and temples. 
If to these features be added a pair of 


full and brilliant coal-black eyes, that ap- — 


peared to vary their expression at their 
master’s will, the reader will at once see 


that the privacy of Alida had been invaded — 
by one whose personal attractions might, — 


under other circumstances, have been dan- 
gerous to the imagination of a female 
whose taste was in some degree influenced 
by a standard created by her own tonaae 
ness. 

The dress of the stranger was as unique 
as his personal attractions were extraor- 


dinary. The fashion of the garments re- — 
sembled that of those already described — 


as worn by the man who has announced 
himself as Master Tiller; but the mate- 
rials were altogether richer, and, judging 
only from the exterior, more worthy of the 
wearer. 


The light frock was of a thick purple 4 
silk, of an Indian manufacture, cut with 


exceeding care to fit the fine outlines of a 


form that was rather round than square, — 
The loose trousers — 
were of a fine white jean, the cap of scar- P 
let velvet, ornamented with gold, and the 
body was belted with a large cord of sear-— 
let silk, twisted in the form of a ship’s— 


active than athletic. 


cable. At the ends of the latter, little 


anchors wrought in bullion were attached 


as gay and fitting appendages. 


In contrast to an attire so whitisiall 
and uncommon, however, a pair of small 


and richly-mounted pistols were at the 
stranger’s girdle; 
curiously carved Asiatic dagger was seen 


projecting rather ostentatiously from be- 


tween the folds of the upper garment. 


and the haft of a 


‘What cheer! what cheer!’ cried a 


- voice that was more in harmony with the 
~ appearence of the speaker than the rough, 
_ professional salutation that he uttered so 


3 soon as he had fairly landed in the center 
of Alida’s little saloon. 


‘“Come forth, my 
dealer in the covering of the beaver, for 
| here is one who brings gold to thy coffers. 
| Ha! now that this trio of lights hath done 
its office, it may be extinguished lest it 
pilot others to the forbidden haven ! ”’ 

“Your pardon, sir,’’ said the mistress 
of the pavilion, advancing from behind the 
curtain with an air of coolness that her 
beating heart had nigh betrayed to be 
counterfeit; ‘‘having so unexpected a 
guest to entertain, the additional candles 
are necessary.”’ 

The start, recoil, and evident alarm of 
the intruder, lent Alida a little more as- 
surance; for courage is a quality that 
appears to gain force in a degree propor- 
tioned to the amount in which it is ab- 
stracted from a dreaded object. Still, 
when she saw a hand on a pistol, the 
- maiden was again about to flee; nor was 
her resolution to remain confirmed until 
she met the mild and alluring eye of the 
intruder, as, quitting his hold of the wea- 
pon, he advanced with an air so mild and 
graceful as to cause generosity to take the 
place of fear. 

«Though Alderman Van Beverout be 
not punctual to his appointment,’’ said 
the gay young stranger, ‘‘he has more 
than atoned for his absence by the sub- 
stitute he sends. I hope she comes au- 
thorized to arrange’ the whole of our 
treaty? ’’ 

«T claim no right to hear or to dictate 
in matters not my own. My utmost 
powers extend to expressing a desire that 
this pavilion may be exempt from the dis- 
cussion of affairs as much beyond my 
knowledge as they are separated from 
my interests.’’ | 
_ “Then why this signal ? ’’ demanded the 
stranger, pointing with a serious air to 
the lights that still burned near each 
other in face of an open widow. ‘It is 
awkward to mislead in transactions that 
are so delicate ! ”’ 
| ‘¢ Your allusion, sir, is not understood. 
These lights are no more than what are 


THE WATEHR-WITCH. 


547 


usually seen in my apartment at this hour, 
with, indeed, the addition of a lamp left 
by my uncle, Alderman Van Beverout.”’ 

‘Your uncle!’’ exclaimed the other, 
advancing so near Alida as to cause her 
to retreat a step, his countenance express- 
ing a deep and newly-awakened interest— 
‘‘yvyour uncle! ‘This then is one far-famed 
and justly extolled, la belle Barberie !’’ 
he added, gallantly lifting his cap, as if . 
he had just discovered the condition and 
the unusual personal attractions of his 
companion. 

It was not in nature for Alida to be dis- 
pleased. 

All her fancied causes of terror were 
forgotten; for, in addition to their im- 
probable and uncertain nature, the 
stranger had sufficiently given her to 
understand that he was expected by her 
uncle. If we add, that the singular 
attraction and softness of his face and 
voice aided in quieting her fears, we shall 
probably do no violence either to the 
truth or to a very natural feeling. Pro- 
foundly ignorant of the details of com. 
merce, and accustomed to hear its mys- 
teries extolled as exercising the keenest 
and best faculties of man, she saw nothing 
extraordinary in those who were actively 
engaged in the pursuit having reason for 
concealing their movements from the 
jealousy and rivalry of competitors. Like 
most of her sex, she had great dependence 
on the characters of those she loved ; and 
though nature, education, and habit had 
created a striking difference between the 
guardian and his ward, their harmony 
had never been interrupted by any breach 
of affection. 

“‘This, then, is la belle Barberie!’’ re- 
peated the young sailor, for such his dress 
denoted him to be, studying her features 
with an expression of face in which pleas- 
ure vied with evident and touching melan- 
choly. ‘‘Hame hath done no injustice, 
for here is all that might justify the folly 
or madness of man! ”’ 

‘“‘This is familiar dialogue for an utter 
stranger,’? returned Alida, blushing, 
though the quick, dark eye that seemed 
to fathom all her thoughts saw it was not 
inanger. ‘‘I donot deny that the parti- 


548 WORKS 


ality of friends, coupled with my origin, 
have obtained the appellation which is 
given, however, more in playfulness than 
in any serious opinion of its being merited 
—and now, as the hour is getting late, 
and this visit is at least unusual, you will 
permit me to seek my uncle.”’ 

‘‘Stay !’’ interrupted the stranger ; ‘‘it 
is long—very long, since so soothing, so 
gentle a pleasure has been mine! This is 
a life of mysteries, beautiful Alida, though 
its incidents seem so vulgar and of every- 
day occurrence. There is mystery in its 
beginning and its end; in its impulses ; 
its sympathies, and all its discordant pas- 
sions. No, do not quit me. I am from 
off the sea, where none but coarse and 
vulgar-minded men have long been my 
associates ; and thy presence is a balm to 
a bruised and wounded spirit.”’ 

Interested, if possible, more by the 
touching and melancholy tones of the 
speaker, than by his extraordinary lan- 
guage, Alida hesitated. Her reason told 
her that propriety, and even prudence, 
required she should apprise her uncle of 
the stranger’s presence; but propriety 
and prudence lose much of their influence 
when female curiosity is sustained by a 
secret and powerful sympathy. Her own 
eloquent eye met the open and imploring 
look of organs that seemed endowed with 
the fabled power to charm ; and while her 
judgment told her there was so much to 
alarm, her senses pleaded powerfully in 
behalf of the gentle mariner. 

«« An unexpected guest of my uncle’s 
will have leisure to repose, after the pri- 
vations and hardships of so weary a voy- 
age,’’ she said. ‘‘ This is a house whose 
door is never closed against the rites of 
hospitality.’’ 

‘‘Tf there is aught about my person 
or attire to alarm you,’’ returned the 
stranger, earnestly, ‘“‘speak that it may 
be cast away—these arms—these foolish 
arms, had better not have been here,’’ he 
added, casting the pistols and daggers 
indignantly through a window into the 
shrubbery ; ‘‘ ah! if you knew how unwill- 
ingly | would harm any—and, least of 
all, a woman—you would not fear me !”’ 

‘‘J] fear you not,’’ returned la Belle, 


OF FENIMORE 


COOPER. 


firmly. ‘*I dread the misconceptions of 
the world.”’ 
‘«“What world is here to disturb us? 
Thou livest in thy pavilion, beautiful Alida, 
remote from towns and envy, like some i 
favored damsel, over whose happy and — 
charmed life presides a benignant genius. — 
See, here are all the pretty materials with 
which thy sex seeks innocent and happy > 
amusement. Thou touchest this lute, — 
when melancholy renders thought pleas- — 
ing; here are colors to mock, or to eclipse, 
the beauties of the fields and the moun- 
tains, the flower and the tree; and from 
these pages are culled thoubhist pure and } 
rich in imagery, as thy spirit is spotless, — 
and thy person lovely ! ”’ 
Alida listened in amazement; for while 
he spoke, the young mariner couched the 
different articles he named, with a mel- — 
ancholy interest, which seemed to ee 
how deeply he regretted that fortune had 
placed him in a profession in which their 
use was nearly denied. + 
‘¢It is not common for those vais live 
on the sea to feel this interest in the . 
een; which constitute a woman’s pleas- ; 
> she said, lingering, spite of her belay | 
ae aah inde to depart. 
‘‘The spirit of our rude and boisterous 
trade is then known to you? ”’ 
‘‘ It were not possible for the relation of — 
a merchant, so extensively known as my 3 
uncle, to be ignorant altogether of mari-— 
ners.”’ ; 
‘«* Aye, there is proof of it,’ returned the 
stranger, speaking so quick as again to 
betray how sensitively his mind was con-— 
structed. “The history of the American 
Buccaneers is a rare book to be found in a 
lady’s library ! What pleasure can a mind 
like that of la belle Barberie find in these 
recitals of bloody violence ? ”’ ts 
“What pleasure, truly!’ returned 
Alida, half tempted by the wild and excited 
eye of her companion, notwithstanding 


tion of those who risk their lives in order 
to protect the weak and innocent. My 
uncle will be angered should I longer de- 
lay to apprise him of your presence.” 

“A single moment! It is long—very 
long, since Ientered a sanctuary like this ! 
Here is music, and there the frame of the 
gaudy tambour—these windows look on a 
landscape, soft as thy own nature; and 
yonder ocean can be admired without 
dreading its terrific power, or feeling dis- 
gust at its coarser scenes. Thou shouldst 
be happy here! ’”’ 

The stranger turned and perceived that 
he was alone. Disappointment was strong- 
ly painted on his handsome face; but, ere 
there was time for second thought, 
another voice was heard grumbling at the 
door of the saloon. 

“Compacts and treaties! What, in 
_the name of good faith, hath brought thee 
hither? Is this the way to keep a cloak 
on our movements? or dost suppose that 
the Queen will knight me for being known 
as thy correspondent ?’’ 

“Lanterns and false beacons ! ’’ return- 
ed the other, mimicking the voice of the 
discontented burgher, and pointing to the 
lights that still stood where last described. 
“Can the port be entered without respect- 
ing the landmarks and signals ?”’ 

“This comes of moonlight and senti- 
ment! When the girl should have been 
asleep, she is up and gazing at the stars, 
and disconcerting a burgher’s speculation. 
But fear thee not, Master Seadrift ; my 
niece has discretion, and if we have no 
better pledge for her silence, there is that 
of necessity ; since there is no one here for 
a confidant, but her old Norman valet and 
_ the Patroon of Kinderhook, both of whom 
are dreaming of other matter than a little 
gainful traffic.”’ 

“Fear thee not, Alderman,” returned 
the other, still maintaining his air of 
mockery. ‘‘ We have the pledge of char- 
acter, if no other; since the uncle cannot 
part with reputation, without the niece 

sharing in the loss.’’ 

What sin is there in pushing com- 
merce a step beyond the limits of the law ? 
These English are a nation of monopolists ; 


_ and they make no scruple of tying us of 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


D49 


the colonies hand and foot, heart and soul, 
with their acts of Parliament, saying, 
‘ With us shalt thou trade or not at all.’ 
By the character of the best bur zomaster 
of Amsterdam, and they came by the 
province, too, in no such honesty that we 
Should lie down and obey !”’ 

“Wherein there is much comfort to 
a dealer in the contraband. Justly rea- 
soned, my worthy Alderman. Thy logic 
will at any time make a smooth pillow, 
especially if the adventure be not without 
its profit. And now, having so commend- 
ably disposed of our bargain, let us ap- 
proach its legitimate, if not its lawful, 
conclusion. There,’’ he added, drawing a 
small bag from an inner pocket of his 
frock, and tossing it carelessly on a table; 
‘there is thy gold. Eighty broad Johan- 
nes is no bad return for a few packages of 
furs ; and even avarice itself will own that 
Six months is no long investment for the 
usury.”’ 

“That boat of thine, most lively Sea- 
drift, is a marine humming-bird!” re- 
turned Myndert, with a joyful tremor of 
the voice, that betrayed his deep and en- 
tire satisfaction. ‘‘ Did’st say just eighty ? 
But spare thyself the trouble of looking for 
the memorandum ; | will tell the gold my- 
self, to save the trouble. Truly the ad-— 
venture hath not been bad! a few kegs of 
Jamaica, with a little powder and lead, 
and a blanket or two, with now and then 
a penny bauble for a chief, are knowingly, 
aye! and speedily transmuted into the 
yellow metal, by thy good aid. This 
affair was managed on the French coast ? ”’ 

““More northward, where frost helped 
the bargain. The beavers and martens, 
honest burgher, will be flaunting in the 
presence of the Emperor at the next holi- 
days. What is there in the face of the 
Braganza that thou studiest it so hard ? ”’ 

““The piece seems none of the heaviest 
—but, luckily, I have scales at hand——”’ 

‘‘Hold!’’ said the stranger, laying his 
hand, which, according to a fashion of 
that day, was clad in a delicate and 
scented glove, lightly on the arm of the 
other; ‘‘no scales between us, sir! That 
was taken in return for thy adventure; 
heavy or light, it must go down. We 


550 WORKS 
deal in confidence, and this hesitation 
offends me. Another such doubt of my 
integrity, and our connection is at an 
end.’’ 

‘A calamity I should deplore quite or 
nearly as much as thyself,’’ returned 
Myndert, affecting to laugh; though he 
slipped the suspected doubloon into the 
bag again, ina manner that at once re- 
moved the object of contention from view. 
‘* A little particularity in the balance part 
of commerce serves us to maintain friend- 
ships. But a trifle shall not cause us to 
waste the precious time. Hast brought 
goods suited to the colonies ? ’’ 

“‘In plenty.’’ 

<< And ingeniously assorted ? Colonists 
and monopoly! But there is a twofold 
satisfaction in this clandestine traffic; I 
never get the notice of thy arrival, Master 
Seadrift, but the heart within me leapeth 
of gladness! There is a double pleasure 
in circumventing the legislation of your 
London wiseacres !”’ 

«The chiefest of which is—’’ 

“A goodly return for the investment, 
truly ; I desire not to deny the agency of 
natural causes; but, trust me, there is a 
sort of professional glory in thus defeating 
the selfishness of our rulers. What! are 
we born of woman to be used as the in- 
struments of their prosperity! Give us 
equal legislation, a right to decide on the 
policy of enactments, and, then, like a 
loyal obedient subject 

“Thou would still deal in the contra- 
band ! ”’ 

“Well, well; multiplying idle words is 
not multiplying gold. The list of the 
articles introduced can be forthcoming? ”’ 

“Tt is here, and ready to be examined. 
But there is a fancy come over me, Alder- 
man Van Beverout, which, like others of 
my caprices, thou knowest must have its 
way. There should be a witness to our 
bargain.’’ 

‘Judges and juries! Thou forgettest; 
man, that a clumsy galiot could sail 
through the tightest clause of these ex- 
tra-legal compacts. The courts receive 
the evidence of this sort of traffic as the 
grave receives the dead; to swallow all 
and be forgotten.”’ 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


“‘T care not for the courts, and little 
desire do I feel to enter them. But the 
presence of la belle Barberie may serve to — 
prevent any misconceptions that might 
bring our connection to a permanent close. 
Let her be summoned.”’ | 

“The girl is altogether ignorant of © 
traffic, and it might unsettle her opinions — 
of her uncle’s stability. If a man does 
not maintain credit within his own doors, ~ 
how can he expect it in the streets ? ”’ 9 

‘Many have credit on the highway who 
receive none at home. But thou knowest ; 
my humor; no niece—no traffic.” ° 

“Alida is a dutiful and affectionate — 
child, and I would not willingly disturb — 
her slumbers. Here is the Patroon of : 
Kinderhook, a man who loves English © 
legislation as little as myself; he will be © 
less reluctant to see an honest shilling — 
turned into gold. I will awake him; no ; 
man was ever yet offended at an offer to — 
share in a profitable adventure.’’ 

‘Let him sleep on. I deal not with ~ 
your lords of manors and mortgages. . 
Bring forth the lady, for there will be ; 
matter fit for her delicacy.’’ ; 

“Duty and the ten commandments! — 
You never had the charge of a child, 
Master Seadrift, and canes know the 
weight of responsibility 

‘< No niece—no traflic ! ”’ interrupted the 7 
willful dealer in contraband, returning his 4 
invoice to his pocket, and preparing to * 
rise from the table, where he had already ~ 
seated himself. ‘‘The lady knows of my — 
presence; and it were safer for us both © 
that she entered more deeply into our con- — 
fidence.’ : 7 

‘Thou art as desperate as the English ~ 
navigation-law! I hear the foot of the 
child still pacing her chamber, and she — 
shall come. But there need be no expla- 
nations, to recall old imtercourse. The 
affair can pass as a bit of accidenta 
speculation—a by-play, in the traffic of 
life.”’ 

*« As thou pleasest. 
words than in business, 
secrets, burgher, and they are safe. 
Still I would have the lady, for there is 
a presentiment that our connection is in 
danger.’’ | 


I shall deal less in 
Keep thine own 


et 

fi 

-£ 
‘s 


‘* 
Pa 
¥ 
i, 
ay 
A. 
: 


grumbled the Alderman, taking a light 
and snuffing it with deliberate care; 
‘drop but a single letter, and one 
dreams of the pains and penalities of the 
Exchequer. Remember thou art a traf- 
ficker, who conceals his appearance on 
account of the cleverness of his specu- 
lations.”’ | 

“That is my calling,. to the letter. 
Were all others as clever, the trade would 
certainly cease. Go, bring the lady.’’ 

The Alderman, who probably saw the 
necessity of making some explanation to 
his niece, and who, it would seem, fully 
understood the positive character of his 
companion, no longer hesitated ; but, first 
casting a suspicious glance out of the still 
open window, he left the room. 


— 


CHAPTER X.. 


*¢ Alack, what heinous sin is it in me, 
To be ashamed to be my father’s child ! 
But though I am adaughter to his blood, 
I am not to his manners.’’ 
—MERCHANT OF VENICE, 


THE moment the stranger was again 
alone, the entire expression of his coun- 
tenance underwent a change. The reck- 
less and bold expression deserted his eye, 
which once more became soft, if not pen- 
Sive, aS it wandered over the different 
elegant objects that served to amuse the 
leisure of la belle Barberie. He arose and 
touched the strings of a lute, and then, 
hke fear, started back, as if recoiling at 
the sound he had made. All recollection 
of the object of his visit was evidently 
forgotten in a new and livelier interest ; 
and had there been one to watch his 
movements, the last motive imputed to 
his presence would probably have been 
the one that was true. There was so 
little of that vulgar and common char- 
acter which is usually seen in men of his 
pursuit, in the gentle aspect and subdued 
air of his fine features, that it might be 
fancied he was thus singularly endowed 
by Nature in order that deception might 
triumph. If there were moments when 
a disregard of opinion was seen in his 
demeanor, it rather appeared assumed 


THE WATHR-WITCH. 


551 


‘J like not that word presentiment,’’'!than easy ; and even when most disposed 


to display lawless indifference to the or- 
dinary regulations of society, in his inter- 
view with the Alderman, it had been 
blended with a reserve of manner that 
was strangely in contrast with his 
humor. 

On the other hand, it were idle to say 
that Alida de Barberie had no unpleasant 
suspicions concerning the character of her 
uncle’s guest. That baneful influence 
which necessarily exerts itself near an 
irresponsible power, coupled with the nat- 
ural indifference with which the principal 
regards the dependent, had caused the 
English ministry to fill too many of their 
posts of honor and profit in their colonies 
with needy and dissolute men of rank, or 
of high political connections at home. 

The Province of New York had, in this 
respect, been singularly unfortunate. The 
gift of it by Charles to his brother and 
successor had left it without the protec- 
tion of those charters and other privileges 
that had been granted to most of the 
governments of America. The connection 
with the Crown was direct, and for a long 
period the majority of the inhabitants 
were considered of a different race, and of 
course as of one less to be considered than 
that of their conquerors. Such was tire 
laxity of the times on the subject of in- 
justice to the people of this hemisphere, 
that the predatory expeditions of Drake 
and others against the wealthy occupants 
of the more southern countries seem to 
have left no spots on their escutcheons ; 
and the honors and favors of Queen Eliza- 
beth had been liberally extended to men 
who would now be deemed freebooters. In 
short, that system of violence and specious 
morality which commenced with the gifts 
of Ferdinand and Isabella, and the bulls 
of the Popes, was continued with more or 
less of modification, until the descendants 
of those single-minded and virtuous men 
who peopled the Union took the powers 
of government into their own hands, 
and proclaimed political ethics that were 
previously as little practiced as under- 
stood. 

Alida knew that both the Earl of Bella- 
mont and the unprincipled nobleman who 


552 WORKS 


has been introduced in the earlier pages 


- of this tale, had not escaped the imputa-} value of my goods, that, you know, is 


tion of conniving at acts on the sea far 
more flagrant than any of an unlawful 
trade; and it will therefore create little 
surprise that she saw reason to distrust 
the legality of some of her uncle’s specu- 
lations with less pain than might be felt 
by one of her sex and opinions at the 
present hour. Her suspicions, however, 
fell far short of the truth; for it were 
scarce possible to have presented a mar- 
iner who bore about him fewer of those 
signs of his rude calling than he whom 
she had so unexpectedly met. 

Perhaps, too, the powerful charm that 
existed in the voice and countenance of 
one so singularly gifted by nature, had its 
influence in persuading Alida to reappear. 
At all events, she was soon seen to enter 
the room with an air that manifested 
more of curiosity and wonder than of 
displeasure. 

** My niece has heard that thou comest 
from the old countries, Master Seadrift,’’ 
said the wary Alderman, who preceded 
Alida, ‘‘and the woman is uppermost in 
her heart. Thou wilt never be forgiven 
should the eye of any maiden in Manhat- 
tan get sight of thy finery before she has 
yassed judgment on its merit.”’ 

‘*T cannot wish a more impartial or a 
fairer judge,’’ returned the other, doffing 
his cap in the gallant and careless man- 
ner of his trade. ‘‘Here are silks from 
the looms of Tuscany, and Lyonnois 
brocades, that any Lombard or dame of 
France might envy. Ribbons of every 
hue and dye, and laces that seem to copy 
the fretwork of the richest cathedral of 
your Fleming! ”’ 

«'Thou,hast journeyed much in thy time, 
Master Seadrift, and speakest of countries 
and usages with understanding,’’ said the 
Alderman. ‘‘ But how stand the prices of 
these precious goods? Thou knowest the 
long war, and moral certainty of its con- 
tinuance; this German succession to the 
throne, and the late earthquakes in the 
country, too, have much unsettled prices, 
and cause us thoughtful burghers to be 
wary in our traffic. Didst inquire the cost 
of geldings when last in Holland ?”’ 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


‘“‘The animals goa-begging! As to the 
fixed ; for I admit of no parley between 
friends.’’ 3 
‘‘Thy obstinacy is unreasonable, Master 
Seadrift. A wise merchant will always 
look to the state of the market, and one 
so practiced should know that a nimble 
sixpence multiplies faster than a slow- — 
moving shilling. ’*Tis the constant rolling — 
of the ball that causes the snow to cleave! i 
Goods that come light should not go 
heavy, and quick settlements follow sud-— 
den bargains. Thou knowest our York 
saying, that ‘ First offers are the. best.’ ” : 
‘“‘He that likes may purchase, and he : 
that prefers his gold to fine laces, rich 
silks, and stiff brocades, has only to sleep é 
with his money bag under his pillow. ; 
There are others who wait with impa- — 
tience to see the articles; and I have 
not crossed the Atlantic with a freight 
that scarcely ballasts the brigantine, to 
throw away the valuables on the lowest — 
bidder.”’ 3 
“Nay, uncle,” said Alida, ina little trepal 
idation, ‘‘we cannot judge of the qual- 
ity of Master Seadrift’s articles by report. — 
I dare say he has not landed without a 
sample of his wares ? ”’ f 
‘‘Customs and friendships !’’? muttered — 
Myndert; ‘‘of what use is an established — 
correspondence if it is to be broken on ac- — 
count of a little cheapening ? But pro- 
duce thy stores, Mr. Dogmatism ; I war-— 
rant me the fashions are of some rejected 
use, or that the color of the goods be 
impaired by the usual negligence of thy — 
careless mariners. We will at least pay 
thee ee compliment to look at the ef- 
fects.’ 
«Tig as you please,’”? returned the — 
other. ‘‘The bales are in the usual place 
at the wharf, under the inspection of 
honest Master Tiller—but if so inferior 
in quality, they will scarce repay the 
trouble of the walk.’’ 
“Tl go, Pll go,’”’ said the Alderman, 
adjusting his wig and removing his spec- 
tacles; ‘‘’twould not be treating an old 
correspondent well to refuse to look at his 
samples—thou wilt follow, Master Sea- 
drift, and so I will pay thee the compliment 


THI 


_ to examine the effects—though the long 
war, the glut of furs, the overabundance 
’ of the last year’s harvests, and the perfect 
quiet in the mining districts, have thrown 


all commerce fiat on the back. I'll go, 


however, lest thou shouldst say thy in- 
terests were neglected. Thy Master Til- 
ler is an indiscreet agent; he gave mea 
fright to-day that exceeds any alarm I 
have felt since the failure of Van Halt, 
- Balance and Liddle.’’ | 

The voice of Myndert became inaudible, 
for, in his haste not to neglect the inter- 
ests of his guest, the tenacious trader had 
already quitted the room, and half of his 
parting speech was uttered in the ante- 
chamber of the pavilion. 

«?T would scarce comport with the pro- 
priety of my sex to mingle with the sea- 
men, and the others who doubtless sur- 
round the bales,’’ said Alida, in whose 
face there was a marked expression of 
hesitation and curiosity. 

«‘Tt will not be necessary,’’ returned 
her companion. ‘‘I have, at hand, speci- 
mens of all that you would see. But why 
this haste? Weare yet in the early hours 
of the night, and the Alderman will be oc- 
cupied long, ere he comes to the determi- 
nation to pay the prices my people are 
sure to ask. lam lately from all the sea, 
beautiful Alida, and thou canst not know 
the pleasure I find in breathing even the 
atmosphere of a woman’s presence.”’ 

La belle Barberie retired a step or two, 
she knew not why; and her hand was 
placed upon the cord of the bell before she 
was aware of the manner in which she be- 
trayed her alarm. 

«To meit does not seem that I am a 
creature so terrific that thou needst dread 
my presence,’’ continued the gay mariner, 
with a smile that expressed as much of 
secret irony as of that pensive character 
which had again taken possession of his 
countenance ; ‘‘but ring, and bring your 
attendants to relieve fears that are nat- 
ural to thy sex, and therefore seducing 
to mine. Shall I pull the cord? for this 
pretty hand trembles too’ much to do its 
office.”’ 

‘“‘T know not that any would answer, 
for it is past the hour of attendance ; it is 


? 


WATER-WITCH. 


5d3 


better that I go to the examination of the 
bales.”’ 

The strange and singularly attired 
being, who occasioned so much uneasiness 
to Alida, regarded her a moment with a 
kind and melancholy solicitude. 

‘‘Thus they are all till altered by too 
much intercourse with a cold and corrupt 
world!’’? he rather whispered, than 
uttered aloud. ‘‘ Would that thus they 
might all continue! Thou art a singular 
compound of thy sex’s weakness and of 
manly resolution, belle Barberie; but 
trust me,’’ and he laid his hand on his 
heart with an earnestness that spoke well 
for his sincerity; ‘‘ere word, or act, to 
harm or to offend thee should proceed 
from any one who obeys will of mine, 
nature itself must undergo a change. 
Start not, for I call one to show the 
specimens you would see.”’ 

He then applied a little silver whistle to 
his lips and drew a low signal from the 
instrument, motioning to Alida to await 
the result without alarm. In half a min- 
ute there was a rustling among the leaves 
of the shrubbery, a moment of attentive 
pause, and then a dark object entered the 
window, and rolled heavily to the center 
of the floor. 

‘¢ Here are our commodities, and trust 
me, the price shall not be dwelt on be- 
tween us,’? resumed Master Seadrift, un- 
doing the fastenings of the little bale that 
had entered the saloon seemingly without 
the aid of hands. ‘‘ These goods are so 
many gages of neutrality between us; so 
approach and examine without fear. You 
will find some among them to well reward 
the hazard.’’ 

The bale was now open, and as its mas- 
ter appeared to be singularly expert in 
suiting a female fancy, it appeared impos- 
sible for Alida to resist any longer. She 
gradually lost her reserve, as the exami- 
nation proceeded ; and before the owner of 
the treasures had got into the third of his 
packages the hands of the heiress were as 
actively employed as his own in gaining 
access to their view. 

‘This is stuff of the Lombard terri- 
tories,’’ said the vender of the goods, 
pleased with the confidence he had suc- 


554 


ceeded in establishing between his beauti- 
ful customer and himself. ‘‘ Thou seest it 
is rich, flowery and variegated as the land 
it came from. One might fancy the vines 
and vegetation of that deep soil were shoot- 
ing from this labor of the loom—nay, the 
piece is sufficient for any toilet, however 
ample; see, it is endless as the plains that 
reared the animal who supplies the texture. 
I have parted of that fabric to many 
dames of England, who have not disdained 
to traffic with one that risks much in their 
behalf.’’ 

‘‘7 fear there are many who find pleasure 
in these stuffs, chiefly because their use is 
forbidden.’ 

<<*Pwould not be out of nature! Look ; 
this box contains ornaments of the ele- 
phant’s tooth, cut by a cunning artificer 
in the far Eastern lands; they do not 
disfigure a lady’s dressing table, and have 
a moral, for they remind her of countries 
where the inhabitants are less happy than 
at home. Ah! here is a treasure of 
Mechlin, wrought in a fashion of my own 
design.”’ 

«’Tis beautifully fancied, and might do 
credit to one who professed the painter’s 
art.”’ 

«My youth was much employed in these 
conceits,’’ returned the trader, unfolding 
the rich and delicate lace, in a manner to 
show he had still a pleasure in contemplat- 
ing its texture and quality. ‘‘ There was 
a compact between me and the maker, 
that enough should be furnished to reach 
from the high church-tower of his town to 
the pavement beneath; and yet, you see 
how little remains! The London dames 
found it to their taste, and it was not easy 
to bring even this trifle into the colonies.’’ 

‘““ You chose a remarkable measure for 
an article that was to visit so many dif- 
ferent countries without the formalities of 
law !”’ 

«We thought to start in the favor of 
the Church, which rarely frowns on those 
._ who respect its privileges. Under the 
sanction of such authority, I will lay aside 
all that remains, certain it will be needed 
for thy use.’’ 

“So rare a manufacture should be 
costly ?”’ 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER 


La belle Barberie spoke hesitatingly, — 


and as she raised her eyes, they met the 
dark organs of her companion, fixed on 
her face in a manner that seemed to ex- 
press a consciousness of the ascendency he 
was gaining. Startled at she knew not 
what, the maiden again added hastily— 

“This may be fitter for a court lady 
than a girl of the colonies.’’ 

‘““None who have yet worn it so well 
become it; [ lay it here asa make-weight 
in my bargain with the Alderman. This 
is satin of Tuscany; a country where 
nature exhibits its extremes, and one whose 
merchants were princes. Your Florentine 
was subtle in his fabrics, and happy in 
his conceits of forms and colors, for which 
he stood indebted to the riches of his own 
climate. Observe—the hue of this glossy 
surface is scarcely so delicate as I have 
seen the rosy light, at even, playing on 
the sides of his Apennines ! 7’ 

‘““You have then visited the regions in 
whose fabrics you deal?’ said Alida, 
suffering the article to fall from her hand 
in the stronger interest she = to feel 
in their owner. 

Tis my habit. 
from the city of the Isles. The hand of 
a Venetian could alone form these delicate 
and nearly insensible links. I refused a 
string of spotless pearls for that same 
golden web.’’ 

‘‘Jt was indiscreet in one who trades at 
so much hazard.’’ 

“‘l kept the bauble for my penne 
Whim is something stronger than the 


thirst of gain; and this chain does not — 


quit me until I bestow it on the lady of 
my love.”’ 
“One so actively employed can scarcely 


spare time to seek a fitting object for the — 


gift.’’ 

‘‘Is merit and loveliness in the sex so 
rare? La belle Barberie speaks in the 
security of many conquests, or she would 


not deal thus lightly in a matter that is 


so serious with most females.”’ 


““Among other countries your vessel — 
hath visited a land of witchcraft, or you 


would not pretend to a knowledge of 
things, that, in their very nature, must 
be hidden from a stranger. 


Here have we a chain 


Of what 


‘ 
4 
if 


in ap 


pik 


as ea eae oe 


silage 


ieee 


THE WATHR-WITCH. 


value may be those beautiful feathers of 
the ostrich ? ”’ 

“They came of swarthy Africa, though 
so spotless themselves. The bunch was 
had, by secret traffic, from a Moorish 
man, in exchange for a few skins of Lach- 
ryma Christi, that he swallowed with his 
eyes shut. I dealt with the fellow only in 
pity for his thirst, and do not pride my- 
self on the value of the commodity. It 
shall go, too, to quicken love between me 
and thy uncle.’’ 

Alida could not object to this liberality, 
though she was not without a secret 
opinion that the gifts were no more than 
delicate and well-concealed offerings to 
herself. The effect of this suspicion was 
twofold: it caused the maiden to become 
more reserved in the expression of her 
tastes, though it in no degree lessened her 


confidence in, and admiration of, the way- 


ward and remarkable trader. 

««My uncle will have cause to commend 
thy generous spirit,’’ said the heiress, 
bending her head a little coldly, at this 
repeated declaration of her companion’s 
intentions, “‘though it would seem, that, 
in trade, justice is as much to be desired 
as generosity ; this seemeth a curious de- 
sign, wrought with the needle !’’ 

“It is the labor of many a day, fash- 
ioned by the hand of a recluse. I bought 
it of a nun, in France, who passed years 
in toil upon the conceit, which is of more 
value than the material. The meek 
daughter of solitude wept when she 
parted with the fabric, for, in her eyes, it 
had the tie of association and habit. A 
companion might be lost to one who lives 
in the confusion of the world, and it 
should not cause more real sorrow than 
parting from the product of her needle 
gave that mild resident of the cloisters ! ”’ 

«* And is it permitted for your sex to 
visit those places of religious retirement ? ”’ 
asked Alida. ‘‘I come ofa race that pays 


little deference to monastic life, for we are 


refugees from the severity of Louis; but 
yet I never heard my father charge these 
females with being so regardless of their 
vows.”’ 

‘The fact was so repeated to me; for, 
surely, my sex are not admitted to traffic, 


DDD 


directly, with the modest sisters’’ (a smile, 
that Alida was half-disposed to think bold, 
played about the handsome mouth of the 
speaker); ‘‘but it was so reported. 
What is your opinion of the merit of 
woman, in thus seeking refuge from the 
cares, and haply from the sins, of the 
world, in institutions of this order ? ”’ 

‘“‘Truly the question exceedeth my 
knowledge. This is not a country to im- 
mure females, and the custom causes us 
of America little thought.”’ 

‘‘The usage hath its abuses,’’ continued 
the dealer in countraband, speaking 
thoughtfully ; “‘but it is not without its 
good. There are many of the weak and 
vain that would be happier in the cloisters 
than if left to the seductions and follies of 
life. Ah! here is work of English hands. 
I scarcely know how the articles found 
their way into the company of the pro- 
ducts of the foreign looms. My bales 
contain, in general, little that is vulgarly 
sanctioned by the law. Speak me frankly, 
belle Alida, and say if you share in the 
prejudices against the character of us 
freetraders ? ’’ 

<‘T pretend not to judge of regulations 
that exceed the knowledge and practices 
of my sex,’’ returned the maiden, with 
commendable reserve. ‘‘ There are some 
who think the abuse of power a justifica~ 
tion of its resistance, while others deem a 
breach of law to be a breach of morals.”’ 

‘<The latter is the doctrine of your man 
of invested moneys and established for- 
tune! He has intrenched his gains 
behind acknowledged barriers, and he 
preaches their sanctity, because they 
favor his selfishness. We skimmers of 
the sea—’’ 

Alida started so suddenly as to cause 
her companion to cease speaking. 

«Are my words frightful, that you 
pale at their sound ?’’ 

“‘T hope they were used rather in acci- 
dent than with their dreaded meaning. I 
would not have it said—no! ’tis but a 
chance that springs from some resem- 
blance in your callings. One like you can 
never be the man whose name has grown 
into a proverb !”’ 

«One like me, beautiful Alida, is much 


? 


556 WORKS 
as fortune wills. Of what man, or of 
what name, wouldst speak ? ”’ 

«?Tis nothing,’’ returned la belle Bar- 
berie, gazing unconsciously at the _ pol- 
ished and graceful features of the stranger 
longer than was wont in maiden. ‘ Pro- 
ceed with your explanation; these are 
rich velvets ! ’’ 

“They come of Venice, too; but com- 
merce is likethe favor which attends the 
rich, and the Queen of the Adriatic is 
already far on the decline. That which 
causes the increase of the husbandman 
occasions the downfall of a city. The 
lagunes are filling with fat soil, and the 
keel of the trader is less frequent there 
than of old. Ages hence, the plow may 
trace furrows where the Bucentaur has 
floated! The outer India passage has 
changed the current of prosperity, which 
ever rushes in the widest and newest 
track. Nations might learn a moral by 
studying the sleepy canals and magnifi- 
cence of that fallen town; but pride fat- 
tens on its own lazy recollections, to the 
last! As Il was saying, we rovers deal 
little in musty maxims, that are made by 
the great and prosperous at home, and 
are trumpeted abroad, in order that the 
weak and unhappy should be the more 
closely riveted in their fetters.’’ 

‘““Methinks you push the _ principle 
farther than is necessary for one whose 
greatest offense against established usage 
is a little hazardous commerce. These 
are opinions that might unsettle the 
world.”’ 

“‘ Rather settle it by referring ali to the 
rule of right. When governments shall 
lay their foundations in natural justice, 
when their object shall be to remove the 
temptations to err, instead of creating 
them, and when bodies of men shall feel 
and acknowledge the responsibilities of 
individuals—why, then the Water- Witch 
herself might become a revenue-cutter, 
and her owner an officer of the customs !’’ 

The velvet fell from the hands of la belle 
Barberie, and she rose from her seat with 
precipitation. 

‘Speak plainly,’? said Alida, with all 
her natural firmness. ‘ With whom am 
I about to traffic ? ”’ 


OF FENIMORE 


COOPER. 


“An outcast of society—a man con- 
demned in the opinions of the world—the 
outlaw—the flagrant wanderer of the 
ocean—the lawless Skimmer of the Seas!’ _ 
cried a voice at the open window. 

In another minute, Ludlow was in the 
room. Alida uttered a shriek, veiled her 
face in her robe, and rushed from the 
apartment. 


CHAPTER XI. 


“Truth will come to light; 
Murder cannot be hid long, a man’s son may; 
But in the end, truth will out.’’—LANCELOT. 


THE officer of the Queen had leaped into 
the pavilion with the flushed features and 
all the hurry of an excited man. The ex- 
clamations and retreat of la belle Barbe- 
rie, for a single moment, diverted his at- 


tention ; then he turned, suddenly, not to — i 


say fiercely, toward her companion. It 
is not necessary to repeat the description 
of the stranger’s person in order to render 
the change, which instantly occurred in 
the countenance of Ludlow, intelligible to 
the reader. His eye, at first, refused to 
believe there was no other present; and 
when it had, again and again, searched 
the whole apartment, it returned to the 
face and form of the dealer in contra- 
band, with an expression of incredulity ang 
wonder. 

‘“‘Here is some mistake?’’ exclaimed 
the commander of the Coquette, after 
time had been given for a thorough ex- 
amination of the room. 

‘“ Your gentle manner of entrance,’ re- 
turned the stranger, across whose face 
there had passed a glow that might have 
come equally of anger or of surprise, ‘‘ has 
driven the lady from the room. But as 
you wear the livery of the Queen, I pre- 
sume you have authority for invading the. 
dwelling of the subject ? ’’ 

‘‘T had believed—nay, there was reason 
to be certain, that one whom all of proper 


loyalty execrate, was to be found here,’” 


stammered the still confused Ludlow. 
“There can scarce be a deception, for L 
plainly heard the discourse of my captors 
—and yet here is none.’ , 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


“‘T thank you for the high consideration 
you bestow on my presence.”’ 

The manner, rather than the words, of 
the speaker, induced Ludlow to rivet 
another look on his countenance. There 
was a mixed expression of doubt, admira- 
tion, and possibly of uneasiness, if not of 
actual jealousy, in the eye, which slowly 
read all his lineaments, though the former 
seemed the stronger sensation of the 
three. 

“We have never met before!’’ cried 
Ludlow, when the organ began to grow 
dim with the length and steadiness of its 
gaze. 

«The ocean has many paths, and men 
may journey on them long without cross- 
ing each other.”’ 

‘© Thou hast served the Queen, though I 
see thee in this doubtful situation ? ”’ 

‘«“Never. I am not one to bind myself 
to the servitude of any woman that lives,” 
returned the freetrader, while a mild smile 
played about his lip; “‘ though she wore a 
thousand diadems; Anne never had an 
hour of my time nor a single wish of my 
heart.” 

‘«‘This is bold language, sir, for the ear 
of her officer. The arrival of an unknown 
brigantine, certain incidents which have 
occurred to myself this night, your pres- 
ence here, that bale of articles forbidden 
by the law, create suspicions that must be 
satisfied. "Who are you?” 

“The flagrant wanderer of the ocean— 
the outcast of society—the condemned in 
the opinions of the world—the lawless 
Skimmer of the Seas! ”’ 

‘¢This cannot be! The tongues of men 
speak of the personal deformity of that 
wanderer, no less than of his bold disre- 
gard of the law. You would deceive me.”’ 

‘‘Tf then men err so much in that which 
is visible and unimportant,’’ returned the 
other, proudly, ‘“‘is there not reason to 
doubt their accuracy in matters of more 
weight? Iamsurely what I seem, if lam 
not what I say.”’ 

‘JT will not credit so improbable a tale ; 
give me some proof that what I hear is 
true.”’ 

‘Took at that brigantine, whose deli- 
cate spars are almost confounded with the 


| swift. 


doy 


background of trees,’’ said the other, ap- 
proaching the window, and directing the 
attention of his companion to the Cove ; 
‘tis the bark that has so often foiled the 
efforts of all thy cruisers, and which trans- 
ports me and my wealth whither I will, 
without the fetters of arbitrary laws, and 
the meddling inquiries of venal hirelings. 
The scud which floats above the sea is not 
freer than that vessel, and scarcely more 
Well is she named the Water- 
Witch ! for her performances on the wide 


ocean have been such as seem to exceed all 


natural means. The froth of the sea does 
not dance more lightly above the waves 
than yonder graceful fabric, when driven 
by the breeze. She is a thing to be loved, 
Ludlow ; trust me, I never yet set affec- 
tions on a woman with the warmth | feel 
for the faithful and beautiful machine !”’ 

‘This is little more than any mariner 
could say in praise of a vessel that he 
admired.”’ | 

«Will yousay the same of yon lumber- 
ing sloop of Queen Anne? Your Coquette 
is none of the fairest, and there was more 
of pretension than of truth at her christen- 
ing.”’ 

‘By the title of my royal mistress, 
young beardless, but there is an insolence 
in this language that might become him 
you wish to represent! My ship, heavy 
or light of foot as she may be, is fated to 
bring yonder false trader to the judg- 
ment.”’ 

‘‘By the craft and qualities of the 
Water-Witch! but this language might 
become one who was at liberty to act his 
pleasure,” returned the stranger, taunt- 
ingly imitating the tone in which his 
angry companion had spoken. ‘* You 
would have proof of my identity : listen. 
There is one who vaunts his power that 
forgets he is a dupe of my agent; and 
that even while his words are so full of 
boldness he is a captive!” 

The brown cheek of Ludlow reddened, 
and he turned toward the lighter and far 
less vigorous frame of his companion, as 
if about to strike him to the earth, whena 
door opened, and Alida appeared in the 
saloon. 

The meeting between the commander of 


558 


the Coquette and his mistress was not 
without embarrassment. The anger of 
the former and the confusion of the latter, 
for a moment, kept both silent; but as la 
belle Barberie had not returned without 
an object, she was quick to speak. 

‘‘T know not whether to approve or to 
condemn the motive that has prompted 
Captain Ludlow to enter my pavilion at 
this unseasonable hour, and in so uncere- 
monious a manner,’’ she said, ‘‘for Iam 
still ignorant of his motive. When he 
shall please to let me hear it, I may judge 
better of the merit of the excuse.’’ 

“True, we will hear his explanation be- 
fore condemnation,’’ added the stranger, 
offering a seat to Alida, which she coldly 
declined. ‘‘ Beyond a doubt the gentle- 
man has a motive.”’ 

If looks could have destroyed, the 
speaker would have been annihilated. 
But as the lady seemed indifferent to the 
last remark, Ludlow prepared to enter on 
his vindication. 

‘‘T shall not attempt to conceal that an 
artifice has been practiced,’’? he said, 
‘‘which is accompanied by consequences 
that I find awkward. The air and man- 
ner of the seaman, whose bold conduct you 
witnessed in the boat, induced me to con- 
fide in him more than was prudent, and I 
have been rewarded by deception.”’ 

**¥n other words, Captain Ludlow is not 
80 Sagacious as he had reason to believe,”’ 
Said an ironical voice at his elbow. 

‘‘In what manner am I to blame, or 
why is my privacy to be interrupted, be- 
cause a wandering seaman has deceived 
the commander of the Coquette?’ re- 
joined Alida. ‘‘ Not only that audacious 
mariner, but this—this person,’’ she 
added, adopting a word that use has ap- 
propriated to the multitude, “‘is a stranger 
tome. There is no other connection be- 
tween us than that you see.’’ 

‘It is not necessary to say why I 
landed,’’ continued Ludlow, “ but I was 
weak enough to allow that unknown mar- 
iner to quit my ship in my company; and 
when I would return, he found means to 
disarm my men, and make mea prisoner.”’ 

** And yet art thou, for a captive, toler- 
ably free! ’’ added the ironical voice. 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


‘Of what service is this freedom, with- 
out the means of using it? The sea sep- — 


arates me from my ship, and my faithful — 


boat’s crew are in fetters. I have been 


little watched myself ; 


but though forbid- 
den to approach certain points, enough 


has been seen to leave no doubts of the — 


character of those wenn Alderman Van 
Beverout entertains.’ 

“Thou wouldst also say, and his niece, 
Ludlow ? ”’ 

‘‘T would say nothing harsh to, or dis- 
respectful of, Alida de Barberie. I will 
not deny that a harrowing idea possessed 
me; but I see my error, and repent hay- 
ing been too hasty.”’ 

‘‘We may then resume our commerce,”’ 
said the trader, coolly seating himself 
before the open bale, while Ludlow and 
the maiden stood regarding each other in 
mute surprise. ‘It is pleasant to ex- 
hibit those forbidden treasures to an offi- 
cer of the Queen. It may prove the 
means of gaining the royal patronage. 
We were last among the velvets, and on 
the lagunes, of Venice. Here is one of a 
color and quality to form a bridal dress 
for the Doge himself, in his nuptials with 
the sea! We men of the ocean look upon 
that ceremony as a pledge Hymen will 
not forget us, though we may wander from 
his altars. Do I justice to the faith of the 
craft, Captain Ludlow ?—or are you a 
sworn devotee of Neptune, and content to 
breathe your sighs to Venus, when afloat ? 
Well, if the damps and salt air of the 
ocean rust the golden chain, it is the 
fault of cruel nature! Ah! here is——’’ 

A shrill whistle sounded among the 
shubbery, and the speaker became mute. 
Throwing his cloths carelessly on the 
bale, he rose again, and seemed to hesi- 
tate. Throughout the interview with 


Ludlow the air of the freetrader had been — 


mild, though at times it was playful; and 
not for an instant had he seemed to re- 


turn the resentment which the other had — 


so plainly manifested. It now became 
perplexed, and, by the workings of his 


features, it would seem that he vacillated — 
The sounds of the whistle — 


in his opinions. 
were again heard. 


«‘Aye, aye, Master Tom,’’ muttered . 


oe a ee ee ee a eee ee ee eee 


rs 
= 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


the dealer in contraband. ‘‘ Thy note is 
audible, but why this haste? Beautiful 
Alida, this shrill summons is to say that 
the moment of parting is arrived !”’ 

<¢ We met with less of preparation,’’ re- 
turned la belle Barberie, who preserved 
all the distant reserve of her sex, under 
the jealous eyes of her admirer. 

<«¢ We met without a warning, but shall 
our separation be without a memorial ? 
Am I to return with all these valuables to 
the brigantine, or in their place must I 
take the customary golden tribute ? ”’ 

<‘T know not that I dare make a traffic 
which is not sanctioned by the law in 
presence of a servant of the Queen,’’ re- 
turned Alida, smiling. ‘I will not deny 
that you have much to excite a woman’s 
envy; but our royal mistress might forget 
her sex, and show little pity, were she to 
hear of my weakness.”’ 

‘“No fear of that, lady. ’Tis they who 
are most stern in creating these harsh 
regulations that show most frailty in their 
breach. By the virtues of honest Leaden- 
hall itself, but I should like to tempt the 
royal Anne in her closet with such a dis- 
play of goodly laces and heavy brocades !”’ 

«That might be more hazardous than 
wise ! ”’ 

“‘T know not. Though seated on a 
throne, she is but woman. Disguise 
nature as thou wilt, she is a universal 
tyrant, and governs all alike. The head 
that wears a crown dreams of the conquest 
of the sex, rather than of the conquest of 
states; the hand that wields the scepter 
is fitted to display its prettiness with the 
pencil or the needle ; and though words 
and ideas may be taught and sounded 
forth with the pomp of royalty, the tone 
is still that of woman.”’ 

«‘ Without bringing into question the 
merits of our present royal mistress,”’ 
said Alida, who was a little apt to assert 
her sex’s rights, ‘‘there is the example 
of the glorious Elizabeth to refute this 
charge.”’ 

«< Aye, we have had our Cleopatras in 
the sea fight, and fear was found stronger 
than love! The sea has monsters, and so 
may have the land. He that made the 
earth gave it laws that ‘tis not good to 


559 


break. We men are jealous of our quali- 
ties, and little like to see them usurped ; 
and trust me, lady, she who forgets the 
means that nature bestows, may mourn 
in sorrow over the fatal error. But shall 
we deal in velvet, or is your taste more 
leaning to brocade ? ” 

Alida and Ludlow listened in admiration 
to the capricious and fanciful language of 
the unaccountable trader, and both were 
equally at a loss to estimate his character. 
The equivocal air was in general well 
maintained, though the commander of the 
Coquette had detected an earnestness and 
feeling in his manner when he more par- 
ticularly addressed la belle Barberie that 
excited an uneasiness he was ashamed to 
admit, even to himself. That the maiden 
herself observed this change might also 
be inferred from a richer glow which dif- 
fused itself over her features, though it is 
scarcely probable that she was conscious 
of its effects. When questioned as to her 
determination concerning his goods, she 
again regarded Ludlow, doubtingly, ere 
she answered. 

«That you have not studied woman 1 
vain,’? she laughingly replied, ‘‘I must. 
fain acknowledge. And yet, ere I make a 
decision, suffer me to consult those who, 
being more accustomed to deal with the 
laws, are better judges of the propriety of 
the purchases.”’ | 

“Tf this request were not reasonable in 
itself, it were due to your beauty and sta- 
tion, lady, to grant it. I leave the bale 
in your care; and before the morrow’s 
sun has set, one will await the answer. 
Captain Ludlow, are we to part in friend- 
ship, or does your duty to the Queen pro- 
scribe the word ? ’’ 

“Tf what you seem,” said Ludlow, 
‘vou are a being inexplicable! If this be 
some masquerade, as I half suspect, ‘tis 
well maintained at least, though not 
worthily assumed.” 

«« You are not the first who has refused 
credit to his senses in a matter wherein 
the Water-Witch and her commander 
have been concerned. Peace, honest 
Tom; thy whistle will not hasten Father 
Time! Friend or not, Captain Ludlow 
need not be told he is my prisoner.’’ 


560 


‘That I have fallen into the power of a 
miscreant——”’ 

‘Hist! if thou hast love of bodily ease 
and whole bones, Master Tom Tiller is a 
man of rude humor, and as little likes con- 
tumely as another. Besides, the honest 
mariner did but obey my orders, and his 
character is protected by a superior re- 
sponsibility.’’ 

«Thy orders! ”’ repeated Ludlow, with 
an expression of eye and lip that might 
have offended one more disposed to take 
offense than him he addressed. ‘“‘ The 
fellow who so well succeeded in his artifice 
is one much more likely to command than 
to obey. If any here be the Skimmer of 
the Seas, it is he.’’ 

“We are no more than the driving 
spray which goes whither the winds list. 
Butin what hath the man offended that 
he finds so little favor with the Queen’s 
Captain? He has not had the boldness 
to propose a secret traffic with so loyal a 
gentleman ? ”’ 

“Tis well, sir; you choose a happy 
occasion for this pleasantry. I landed to 
manifest the respect that I feel for this 
lady, and [ care not if the world knows 
the object of the visit. ’Twas no silly 
artifice that led me hither.’’ 

‘‘Spoken with the frankness of a sea- 
man!’’ said the inexplicable dealer in 
contraband, though his color lessened, 
and his voice appeared to hesitate. ‘I 
admire this loyalty in man to woman; for 
as custom has so strongly fettered them 
in the expression of their inclinations, it is 
due from us to leave as little doubt as 
possible of our intentions. It is difficult 
to think that Ia belle Barberie can do 
wiser than to reward so much manly 
admiration.”’ 

The stranger cast a glance, which Alida 
fancied betrayed solicitude, as he spoke, 
at the maiden, and he appeared to expect 
she would reply. 

‘*When the time shall come for a de- 
cision,’’ returned the half-pleased and yet 
half-offended subject of his allusion, *‘ it 
may be necessary to call upon very dif- 
ferent counselors for advice. I hear the 
step of my uncle. Captain Ludlow, I leave 
it to your discretion to meet him or not.”’ 


WORKS OF FENIMORE OOOPER. 


The heavy footstep was approaching 
through the outer rooms of the pavilion. 


Ludlow hesitated; cast a reproachful — 


look at his mistress; then he instantly 
quitted the apartment by the place 
through which he had entered. <A noise 
in the shrubbery sufficiently proved that 
his return was expected, and that he was 
closely watched. | 

‘‘Noah’s Ark, and our grandmothers ! ”’ 
exclaimed Myndert, appearing at the 
door with a face red with his exertions. 
“You have brought us the cast-off finery 
of our ancestors, Master Seadrift. Here 
are stuffs of an age that is past, and they 
should be bartered for gold that hath been 
spent.”’ 

‘What now! what now!’ responded 
the freetrader, whose tone and manner 
seemed to change at will, in order to suit 
the humor of whomsoever he was brought 
to speak with. ‘‘ What now, pertinacious 
burgher, that thou shouldst cry down 


wares that are but too good for these 


distant regions! Many is the English 
duchess who pines to possess but the tithe 
of these beautiful stuffs I offer thy niece, 
and faith—rare is the English duchess that 
would become them half so well !”’ 

‘“The girl is seemly, and thy velvets 
and brocades are passable, but the heavy 
articles are not fit to offer to a Mohawk 


Sachem. There must be a reduction in 


prices, or the invoice cannot pass.”’ 

‘The greater the pity. But if sail we 
must, sail we will! The brigantine knows 
the channel over the Nantucket sands ; 


and my life on it! the Yankees will find 


others than the Mohawks for chapmen.’’ 

**Thou art as quick in thy notions, Mas- 
ter Seadrift, as the boat itself. Who said 
that a compromise might not be made 
when the discussion was prudently and 
fairly exhausted?- Strike off the odd 
florins, leave the balance in round thou- 
sands, and thy trade is done for the sea- 
son ! ’’ 

‘*Not astiver. Here, count me back 
the faces of the Braganza ; throw enough 
of thin ducats mto the scales to make up 
the sum, and let thy slaves push inland 
with the articles before the morning light 
comes to tell the story Here has been 


7 ee ee —— ws | 2 ais ae ec . rhea a Ve A 


oT cra 


or tn i i 
nT Thin os MMT ATT TTR 


i 


I 


na RY 


‘‘To me it does not seem that I am a creature so terrific that thou 
need’st dread my presence,”’ continued the gay mariner. 
—The Water Witch. 


De 


$ 
: 


- one among us who may do mischief, if he 


will; though I know not how far he is 


master of the main secret.’’ 


Alderman Van Beverout stared a little 
wildly about him, adjusted his wig, like 
one fully conscious of the value of appear- 
ances in this world, and then cautiously 
drew the curtains before the windows. 

“Tl know of none more than common, 
my niece excepted,’’ he said, when all these 
precautions had been observed. ‘‘’Tis 
true, the Patroon of Kinderhook is in the 
house; but as the man sleeps, he 1s a 
witness in our favor. We have the testi- 
mony of his presence, while his tongue is 


silent.’’ 


«“ Well, be it so,’’ rejoined the freetrader, 
reading, in the imploring eyes of Alida, a 
petition that he would say no more. ‘‘I 
knew by instinct there was one unusual, 
and it was not for me to discover that he 
sleeps. There are dealers on the coast, 
who, for the sake of insurance, would 
charge his presence in their bills.’’ 

*‘Say no more, worthy Master Seadrift, 
and take the gold. To confess the truth, 
the goods are in the periagua and fairly 
out of the river. I knew we should come 


- to conclusions in the matter, and time is 


precious, as there is a cruiser of the Queen 
so nigh. The rogues will pass the pen- 
nant, like innocent market-people, and I’1l 
risk a Flemish gelding against a Virginia 
nag, that they inquire if the Captain has 
no need of vegetables for his soup! Ah, 
ha, ha, ha! That Ludlow is a simpleton, 
niece of mine, and he is not yet fit to deal 
with men of mature years. You’ll think 
better of his qualities one day, and bid 
him begone like an unwelcome dun.”’ 

«<1 hope these proceedings may be legal- 
ly sanctioned, uncle ?”’ 

«Sanctioned! Luck sanctions all. It 
is in trade as in war: success gives char- 
acter and bootyin both. Your rich dealer 
is sure to be your honest dealer. Planta- 
tions and orders in council! What are 
our rulers doing at home, that they need 
be so vociferous about a little contraband ? 
The rogues will declaim by the hour con- 
cerning bribery and corruption, while more 
than half of them get their seats as clan- 


_LHE WATEHR-WITCH. 


561 


these rare Mechlin laces. Should the 
(Jueen take offense at our dealings, Master 
Seadrift, bring me another season or two 
as profitable as the last, and I'll be your 
passenger to London, go on ’Change, buy 
a seat in Parliament, and answer to the 
royal displeasure from my place, as they 
call it. By the responsibility of the States 
General! but I should expect, in such a 
case, to return Sir Myndert, and then the 
Manhattanese might hear of a Lady Van 
Beverout, in which case, pretty Alida, thy 
assets would be sadly diminished !—so go 
to thy bed, child, and dream of fine laces 
and rich velvets, and duty to old uncles, 
and discretion, and all manner of agree- 
able things; kiss me, jade, and to thy 
pillow.’’ 

Alida obeyed, and was preparing to 
quit the room, when the freetrader pre- 
sented himself before her with an air at 
once so gallant and respectful that she 
could scarce take offense at the freedom. 

**T should fail in gratitude,’’ he said, 
‘“‘were I to part from so generous a cus- 
tomer without thanks for her liberality. 
The hope of meeting again will hasten my 
return.’’ 

‘‘T know not that you are my debtor 
for these thanks,’’ returned Alida, though 
she saw that the Alderman was carefully 
collecting the contents of the bale, and 
that he had already placed three or four 
of the most tempting of its articles on her 
dressing-table. ‘‘ We cannot be said to 
have bargained.’’ 

‘‘T have parted with more than is visi- 
ble to vulgar eyes,’’ returned the stranger, 
dropping his voice, and speaking with an 
earnestness that caused his auditor to 
start. ‘‘ Whether there will be a return 
for the gift, or perhaps I had better call 
it loss, time and my stars must show.”’ 

He then took her hand, and raised it to 


his lips, by an action so graceful and so 


gentle as not to alarm the maiden until 
the freedom was done. La belle Barberie 
reddened to her forehead, seemed disposed 
to condemn the iiberty, frowned, smiled, 
and courtesying in confusion, withdrew. 
Several minutes passed in profound 
silence after Alida had disappeared. The 


destinely—aye, and asillegally, as you get; stranger was thoughtful, though his 


562 


bright eye kindled as if merry thoughts 
were uppermost; and he paced the room 
entirely heedless of the existence of the 
Alderman. The latter, however, soon 
took occasion to remind his companion of 
his presence. 

‘‘No fear of the girl’s prating,’’ ex- 
claimed the Alderman when his task was 
ended. ‘She is an excellent and dutiful 
niece; and here, you see, is a balance on 
her side of the account that would shut 
the mouth of the First Lord of the Treas- 
ury. I disliked the manner in which you 
would have the child introduced ; for, look 
you, I do not think that either Monsieur 
Barberie, or my late sister, would alto- 
gether approve of her entering into traffic 
so very young; but what is done, is done; 
and the Norman himself could not deny 
that Ihave made a fair set-off, of very 
excellent commodities, for his daughter’s 
benefit. When dost mean to sail, Mr. 
Seadrift ? ”’ 

‘«¢ With the morning tide. I little like 
the neighborhood of these meddling 
guarda-costas.”’ 

‘‘Bravely answered! “Prudence is a 
cardinal quality in a private trader; and 
it is a quality that I esteem in Master 
Skimmer, next to his punctuality. Dates 
and obligations! I wish half of the firms, 
of three and four names, without counting 
the Co.’s, were as much to be depended 
on. Dost not think it safer to repass the 
inlet under favor of the darkness? ” 

«**Tis impossible. The flood is entering 
it like water through a race-way, and we 
have the wind at east. But, fear not; 
the brigantine carries no vulgar freight, 
and your commerce has given us a swept 
hold. The Queen and the Braganza, with 
Holland ducats, may show their faces 
even in the Royal Exchequer itself! we 
have no want of passes, and the Miller’s- 
Maid is just as good a name to hail by as 
the Water-Witch. We begin to tire of 
this constant running, and have half a 
mind to taste the pleasures of your Jersey 
sports for a week. There should be shoot- 
ing on the upper plains.”’ 

‘Heaven forbid ! Heaven forbid ! Mas- 
ter Seadrift. I had all the deer taken for 
the skins, ten years ago; and as to birds, 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


they deserted us to a pigeon when the last 
tribe of the savages went west of the 
Delaware. Thou hast discharged thy — 
brigantine to better effect than thou — 
couldst ever discharge thy fowling-pieces. 
I hope the hospitality of the Lust in Rust 
is no problem—but blushes and curiosity! — 
I could wish to keep a fair countenance — 
among my neighbors. Art sure the im- 
pertinent masts of the brigantine will not 
be seen above the trees when the day — 
comes? This Captain Ludlow is no lag- — 
gard when he thinks his duty actually 
concerned.”’ 

‘‘We shall endeavor to keep him quiet. — 
The cover of the trees, and the berth of — 
the boat, make all snug, as respects his 
people. I leave worthy Tiller to settle — 
balances between us; and so, | take my 
leave. Master Alderman, a word at part- — 
ing. Does the Viscount Cornbury still — 
tarry in the provinces? ”’ 

‘Like a fixture. There is not a mer- 
cantile house in the colony more firmly 
established.”’ . 

‘“There are unsettled affairs between — 
us—a small premium would buy the ob- 
ligations——”’ : 

‘“‘ Heaven keep thee, Master Seadrift, — 
and pleasant voyages back and forth! 
As for the Viscount’s responsibility—the — 
Queen may trust him with another Proy- 
ince, but Myndert Van Beverout would — 
not give him credit for a tail of a marten; — 
and so, again, Heaven preserve thee ! ”’ 

The dealer in contraband appeared to — 
tear himself from the sight of all the little — 
elegances that adorned the apartment of ; 
la belle Barberie with reluctance. His 
adieus to the Alderman were rather cava- 
lier, for he still maintained a cold and ab-— 
stracted air; but as the other scarcely 
observed the forms of decorum in his evi- — 
dent desire to get rid of his guest, the 
latter was finally obliged to depart. He — 
disappeared by the low balcony, where he — 
had entered. 3 

When Myndert Van Beverout was 
alone, he shut the windows of the pavilion 
of his niece, and retired to his own pa 
of the dwelling. Here the thrifty burgher 
first busied himself in making sundry cal- 
culations, with a zeal that proved how 


——— 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


much his mind was engrossed by the occu- 
pation. After this-preliminary step, he 
gave a short but secret confidence to the 
mariner of the India-shawl, during which 
there was much clanking of gold pieces. 
But when the latter retired, the master of 
the villa first looked to the trifling securi- 
ties which were then, as now, observed in 
the fastenings of an American country- 
house; when he walked forth upon the 
lawn, like one who felt the necessity of 
breathing the open air. He cast more 
than one inquiring glance at the windows 
of the room which was occupied by Oloff 
Van Staats, where all was happily silent ; 
at the equally immovable brigantine in 
the Cove; and at the more distant and 
still motionless hull of the cruiser of the 
crown. All around him was 1n the quiet 
of midnight. Even the boats which he 
knew to be plying between the land and 
the little vessel at anchor were invisible ; 
and he re-entered his habitation, with the 
security one would be apt to feel under 
sunilar circumstances, in a region so little 


- tenanted, and so little watched, as that in 


which he lived. 


CHAPTER XII. 


“Come on, Nerissa; I have work in hand, 
That you, yet, know not of.’’ 
—MERCHANT OF VENICE. 


NOTWITHSTANDING the active move- 
ments which had taken place in and 
around the buildings of the Lust in Rust 
during the night which ended with our 
last chapter, none but the initiated were 
in the smallest degree aware of their 
existence. Oloff Van Staats was early 
afoot ; and when he appeared on the lawn 
to scent the morning air, there was nothing 
visible to give rise to a suspicion that 
aught extraordinary had occurred during 
his slumbers. La Cour des Fees was still 
closed, but the person of the faithful Fran- 
cois was seen, near the abode of his young 
mistress, busied in some of those pretty 
little offices that can easily be imagined 
would be agreeable to a maiden of her 
years and station. Van Staats of Kinder- 
hook had as little of romance in his com- 
position as could well be in a youth of five- 


563 


and-twenty who was commonly thought 
to be enamored, and who was not alto- 
gether ignorant of the conventional sym- 
pathies of the passion. The man was 
mortal, and as the personal attractions of 
la belle Barberie were sufficiently obvious, 
he had not entirely escaped the fate which 
seems nearly inseparable from young fan- 
cy, when excited by beauty. He drew 
nigh to the pavilion, and, by a guarded 
but decisive maneuver, he managed to 
come so close to the valet as to render a 
verbal communication not only natural, 
but nearly unavoidable. 

‘‘ A fair morning and a healthful air, 
Monsieur Francois,’’ commenced the young 
Patroon, acknowledging the low salute of 
the domestic, by gravely lifting his own 
beaver. ‘* This is a comfortable abode for 
the warm months, and one it might be 
well to visit oftener.’’ 

*“When Monsieur le Patteron shall be 
de lor’ of ce manoir, aussi, he shall come 
when he shall have la volonte,’’ returned 
Francois, who knew that a pleasantry of 
his ought not to be construed into an en- 
gagement on the part of her he served, 
while it could not fail to be agreeable to 
him who heard it. ‘‘Monsieur de Van 
Staats est grand proprietaire sur la 
riviere, and one day, peut-etre, he shall be 
proprietaire sur la mer ! ”’ 

‘“‘T have thought of imitating the ex- 
ample of the Alderman, honest Francois, 
and of building a villa on the coast; but 
there will be time for that when [ shall 
find myself more established in life! 
Your young mistress is not yet moving, 
Francois ? ”’ 

‘‘Ma foi, non—Mam/’selle Alide sleep ! 
—'tis good symptome, Monsieur Patteron, 
pour les jeunes personnes, to tres bien 
sleep. Monsieur, et toute la famille de 
Barberie sleep a merveille! Oui, c’est 
toujours une famille remarquable pour le 
sommeil ! *’ 

‘*Yet one would wish to breathe this 
fresh and invigorating air, which comes 
from off the sea, like a balm in the early 
hours of the day.”’ 

‘Sans doute, Monsieur. C’est un 
miracle, how Mam’selle love de air! Per- 
sonne do not love air more, as Mam/’selie 


564 WORKS OF 
Alide. Bah !—it was grand plaisir to see 
how Monsieur de Barberie love de air! ”’ 

“Perhaps, Mr. Francois, your young 
lady is ignorant of the hour. It might be 
well to knock at the door, or perhaps at 
the window. I confess I should much ad- 
mire to see her bright face smiling from 
the window on this soft morning scene.”’ 

It is not probable that the imagination 
of the Patroon of Kinderhook ever before 
took so high a flight ; and there was rea- 
son to suspect by the wavering and 
alarmed glance that. he cast around him 
after so unequivocal an expression of 
weakness, that he already repented his 
temerity. Francois, who would not will- 
ingly disoblige a man that was known to 
possess a hundred thousand acres of land, 
with manorial rights, besides personals of 
no mean account, felt embarrassed by the 
request ; but was enabled to recollect in 
time that the heiress was known to pos- 
sess a decision of character that might 
choose to control her own pleasures. 

‘¢ Well, I shall be too happy to knock ; 
mais, Monsieur sa is dat sleepest si agre- 
able pour les jeunes personnes! On n’a 
jamais knock, dans la famillie de Monsieur 
de Barberie, and je suis sur que Mam’selle 
Alide do not love to hear de knock—pour- 
tant, si Monsieur le Patteron le veut, 1 
shall consult ses—Viola ! Monsieur Bevre, 
qui vient sans knock a la fenetre. J’ai 
Vhonneur de vous laisser avec Monsieur 
Alerman.’’ 

And so the complaisant but still con- 
siderate valet bowed himself out of a 
dilemma, that he found, as he muttered to 
himself while retiring, ‘‘ tant soit peu en- 
nuyant.”’ 

The air and manner of the Alderman, 
as he approached his guest, were like the 
character of the man, hale, hearty, and a 
little occupied with his own enjoyments 
and feelings. He hemmed twice ere he 
was near enough to speak; and each of 
the strong expirations seemed to invite 
the admiration of the Patroon, for the 
strength of his lungs, and for the purity 
of the atmosphere around a villa which 
acknowledged him for its owner. 

“Zephyrs and Spas! but this is the 
abode of health, Patroon!’ cried the 


FENIMORE COOPER. 


burgher, aS soon as these demonstra- 
tions of his own bodily conditions had 
been sufficiently repeated. ‘“‘ One some- 
times feels in this air equal to holding a 
discourse across the Atlantic with his — 
friends at Scheveling or the Helder. A 
broad and deep chest, air like this from 
the sea, with a clear conscience and a 
lucky hit in the way of trade, cause the 
lungs of a man to play as easily and 
imperceptibly as the wings of a hum- 
ming-bird. Let me see; there are few 
fourscore men in thy stock. The last Pa- 
troon closed the books at sixty-five; and 
his father went but a little beyond sev: 
enty. JI wonder there never has been an 
intermarriage among you with the Van 
Courtlandts; that blood is as good as 
insurance to fourscore and ten of itself.’’ 
‘‘T find the air of your villa, Mr. Van 
Beverout, a cordial that one could wish 
to take often,’”’ returned the other, who — 
had far less of the brusque manner of the — 
trader than his companion. “It is a pity 
that all who have the choice do not profit 
by their opportunities to breathe it.”’ 
‘You allude to the lazy mariners in yon 
vessel! Her Majesty’s servants are sel- 
dom in a hurry; and as for this brigan- 
tine in the Cove, the fellow seems to have 
got in by magic! I warrant me, now, 
the rogue is there for no good, and that 
the Queen’s exchequer will be none the 
richer for his visit. Harkee, you Brom,” 
calling to an aged black who was work- — 
ing at no great distance from the dwell- 
ing, and who was deep in his master’s — 
confidence, ‘‘ hast seen any boats plying — 
between yonder rougish-looking brigan- — 
tine and the land ? ”’ 7 
The negro shook his head like the earth- 
en image of a mandarin, and laughed 
loudly and heartily. . 
‘**7T b’rieve he do all he mischief among 
a’ Yankee, an’ he only come here to take 
he breat,’’ said the wily slave. ‘* Well, I 
wish wid all a heart dere would come 
freetrader some time along our shore. 
Dat gib a chance to poor black man to 
make an honest penny ! ” mt 
“‘ Yousee, Patroon, human nature itself 
rises against monopoly! That was the 
voice of instinct speaking with the tongue 


) ee ee a a 


of Brom; and it is no easy task for a mer- 


chant to keep his dependents obedient to 


the laws which in themselves create so 
constant a temptation to break them. 
Well, well; we will always hope for the 


f best, and SaaaNo?: to act like dutiful sub- 


_ jects. 


The boat is not amiss as to form 


and rig, let her come from where she will. 


clouds. 


Dost think the wind will be off the land 


this morning;? ”’ 
‘‘There are signs of a change in the 
One could wish that all should be 


out in the air to taste this pleasant sea 
_ breeze while it lasts.”’ 


“Come, come,’’ cried the Alderman, 


who had for a moment studied the state 


of the heavens with a solicitude that he 


feared might attract his companion’s at- 


tention. ‘‘ We will taste our breakfast. 


This is the spot to show the use of teeth ! 


The negroes have not been idle during the 


night, Mr. Van Staats—he-e-em—I say, 
_ sir, they have not been idle; and we shall 


have a choice among the dainties of the 


river and bay. That cloud about the 


years. 


- mouth of the Raritan appears to rise, and 


Wwe may yet have a breeze at west !”’ 
«“ Yonder comes a boat in the direction 


of the city,’ observed the other, reluc- 


tantly obeying a motion of the Alderman 


- to retire to the apartment where they were 
- accustomed to break their fasts. 


«To me 
it seems to approach with more than ordi- 
nary speed.”’ 

‘««There are stout arms at its oars! 
Can it be a messenger for the cruiser ? no 
—it rather steers more for our own land- 
ing. These Jerseymen are often overtaken 


by the night, between New York and their 


own doors. And now, Patroon, we will 
to our knives and forks, like men who 
have taken the best stomachics.’’ 

‘¢And are we to refresh ourselves 
alone ?’’ demanded the young man, who 
ever and anon cast sidelong and wistful 


_ glances at the closed and immovable shut- 
_ ters of la Cour des Fees. 


‘*Thy mother hath spoiled thee, young 
Oloff ; unless the coffee comes from a pret- 
ty female hand, it loses its savor. I take 
thy meaning, and think none the worse of 
thee; for the weakness is natural at thy 
Celibacy and independence! A 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


56d 


4% 


man must get beyond forty, before he is 
ever sure of being his own master. Come 
hither, Master Francois. It is time my 
niece had shaken off this laziness, and 
shown her bright face to the sun. We wait 
for her fair services at the table. I see 
nothing of that lazy hussy, Dinah, any 
more than of her mistress.”’ 

“¢ Assurement non, Monsieur,’’ returned 
the valet. ‘‘ Mam/’selle Dinah do not love 
trop d’activite. Mais, Monsieur Al’er- 
man, elles sont jeunes toutes les deux! 
Le sommeil est bien salutaire pour la 
jeunesse.”’ 

‘The girl is no longer in her cradle, 
Francois, and it is time to rattle at the 
windows. As for the black minx, who 
should have been up and at her duty this 
hour, there will be a balance to settle be- 
tween us. Come, Patroon; the appetite 
will not await the laziness of a willful girl ; 
we will to the table. Dost think the wind 
will stand at west this morning? ”’ 

Thus saying, the Alderman led the way 
into the little parlor, where a neat and 
comfortable service invited them to break 
their morning fast. He was followed by 
Oloff Van Staats with a lingering step, 
for the young man really longed to see the 
windows of the pavilion open, and the fair 
face of Alida smiling amid the other 
beautiful objects of the scene. Francois 
proceeded to take such measures to arouse 
his mistress as he believed to comport with 
his duty to her uncle and his own ideas of 
bienseance. After some little delay, the 
Alderman and his guest took their seats 
at the table; the former loudly protesting 
against the necessity of waiting for the 
idle, and throwing in an occasional moral 
concerning the particular merit of punct- 
uality in domestic economy, as well as 
in the affairs of commerce. 

‘¢The ancients divided time,’’ said the 
somewhat pertinacious commentator, ‘‘ in- 
to years, months, weeks, days, hours, 
minutes, and moments, as they divided 
numbers into units, tens, hundreds, thou- 
sands, and tens of thousands; and both 
with an object. If we commence at the 
bottom, and employ well the moments, 
Mr. Van Staats, we turn the minutes into 
tens, the hours into hundreds, and the 


566 WORKS 


weeks and months into thousands—aye ! 
and when there is a happy state of trade, 
into tens of thousands! Missing an hour, 
therefore, is somewhat like dropping an 
important figure in a complex calculation, 
and the whole labor may be useless, for 
want of punctuality in one, as for want of 
accuracy in the other. Your father, the 
late Patroon, was what may be called a 
minute-man. He was as certain to be 
seen in his pew, at church, at the stroke 
of the clock, as to pay a bill when its items 
had been properly examined. Ah! it was 
a blessing to hold one of his notes, though 
they were far scarcer than broad pieces or 
bullion. I have heard it said, Patroon, 
that the manor is backed by plenty of 
Johannes and Dutch ducats! ”’ 

“The descendant has no reason to re- 
proach his ancestors with want of fore- 
sight.”’ 

‘*Prudently answered ; not a word too 
much nor too little—a principle on which 
all honest men settle their accounts. By 
proper management, such a foundation 
might be made to uphold an estate that 
should count thousands with the best of 
Holland or England. Growth and ma- 
jority ! Patroon; but we of the colonies 
must come to man’s estate in time, like 
our cousins on the dykes of the Low Coun- 
tries, or our rulers among the smithies of 
England. Erasmus, look at that cloud 
over the Raritan, and tell me if it rises.”’ 

The negro reported that the vapor was 
stationary ; and, at thesame time, by way 
of episode, he told his master that the 
boat which had been seen approaching the 
land had reached the wharf, and that some 
of its crew were ascending the hill toward 
the Lust in Rust. 

“‘Let them come, of all hospitality,’’ 
returned the Alderman, heartily ; *‘ 1 war- 
rant me, they are honest farmers from 
the interior, a-hungered with the toil of 
the night. Go tell the cook to feed them 
with the best, and bid them welcome. 
And harkee, boy ; if there be among them 
any comfortable yeoman, bid the man 
enter and sit at our table. This is 
not a country, Patroon, to be nice about 
the quality of the cloth the man has 
on his back, or whether he wears a wig: 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


or only his own hair. What is the fel- 
low gaping’ at?” 

Erasmus rubbed his eyes, and then 
showing his teeth to the full extent of a 
double row, that glittered like pearls, he 
gave his master to understand that the 
negro, introduced to the reader under the © 
name of Euclid, and who was certainly his 
own brother of the half-blood, or by the 
mother’s side, was entering the villa. The 
intelligence caused a sudden cessation of 
the masticating process in the Alderman, 
who had not, however, time to express 
his wonder ere two doors simultaneously 
opened, and Francois presented himself at — 
the one, while the shining and doubting 
face of the slave from town darkened the 
other. The eyes of Myndert rolled first 
to this side, then to that, a certain mis-— 
giving of the heart preventing him from — 
speaking to either; for he saw, in the 
disturbed features of each, omens that 
bade him prepare himself for unwelcome 
tidings. The reader will perceive, by the 
description we shall give, that there was 
abundant reason for the sagacious burgh-_ | 
er’s alarm. : 

The visage of the valet, at all timed 
meager and long, seemed extended to far 
more than its usual dimensions, the under 
jaw appearing fallen and trebly atten- 
uated. The light-blue protruding eyes 
were open to the utmost, and they ex- 
pressed a certain confused wildness, that 
was none the less striking for the painful — 
expression of mental suffering with which 
it was mingled. Both hands were raised, 
with the palms outward; while the shoul- 
ders of the poor fellow were elevated so 
high as entirely to destroy the little sym-— 
metry that nature had bestowed on that 
particular part of his frame. ie 

On the other hand, the look of the vem 
was guilty, dogged and cunning. His eye 
leered askance, seeming to wish to play 
around the person of his master, as it will 
be seen his language endeavored to play 
around his understanding. The hands 
crushed the crown of a woolen hat be 
tween their fingers, and one of his fe et 
described semi-circles with its toe, “ee per 


{ 
1 


4 


 geldings? 


ing each in turn. ‘What news from the 


- Canadas? Is the Queen dead, or has she 
restored the Colony to the United Prov- 
® inces ?’”’ 


““Mam/’selle Alide!’’ exclaimed, or 
rather groaned, Francois. 

«<The poor dumb beast !’’ muttered Eu- 
clid. 

The knives and the forks fell from the 
hands of Myndert and his guest, as it were 
by a simultaneous paralysis. The latter 
involuntarily arose; while the former 
planted his solid person still more firmly 
in his seat, like one who was preparing 
to meet some severe and expected shock 
with all the physical resolution he could 


muster. 


“What of my niece? What of my 
You have called upon Dinah ?”’ 

‘*Sans doute, Monsieur ! ”’ 

“And you kept the keys of the sta- 
ble? ”’ 

*‘T nebber let him go at all? ”’ 

*¢ And you bade her call her mistress ? ”’ 

«She made no answair, du tout.’’ 

«The animals were vt and watered, as 
I ordered ? ”’ 

**?Kim nebber take he food better ! ’ 

«© You entered the chamber of my niece, 
yourself, to awake her ? ’’ 

“Monsieur a raison.’’ 

“What the devil has befallen the in- 
nocent ? ”’ 

‘* He lose he stomach quite, and I t’ink 
it great time ’fore it ebber come back.’” 

‘Mister Francois, I desire to know the 
answer of Monsieur Barberie’s daughter. ”’ 

**Mam’selle no repond, Monsieur; pas 
un syllabe ! ’’ 

‘“*Drenchers and fleames! The beauty 
should have been drenched and _ blood- 
ed. “ed 

‘*He’m too late for dat, Masser, on 
honor.”’ 

“The obstinate hussy! This comes of 
her Huguenot breed, a race that would 
quit house and lands rather than iki 
its place of worship ! ’’ 

“*La famille de Barberie est honorable, 
Monsieur, mais le Grand Monarque fut un 
peu trop exigeant. Vraiment, la dragon- 
nade etait mal avisee, pour faire des 
chretiens !’”’ 


THE WATER- WITCH. 


567 


‘* Apoplexies and hurry! you should 
have sent for the farrier to administer to 
the sufferer, thou black hound !’’ 

*<’Kim go for a butcher, Masser, to save 
he skin, for he war too soon dead.’’ 

The word dead produced a sudden 
pause. The preceding dialogue had been 
so rapid, and question and answer, no less 
than the ideas of the principal speaker, 
had got so confused that, for a moment, 
he was actually at a loss to understand 
whether the last great debt of nature had 
been paid by la belle Barberie or one of 
the Flemish geldings. Until now, con- 
sternation, as well as the confusion of the 
interview, had constrained the Patroon to 
be silent, but he profited by the breathing 
time to interpose. 

‘‘It is evident, Mr. Van Beverout,’’ he 
said, speaking with a tremor in his voice 
which betrayed his own uneasiness, “‘ that 
some untoward event has occurred. Per- 
haps the negro and I had better retire, 
that you may question Francois concerning 
that which hath befallen Mademoiselle 
Barberie, more at your leisure.’’ 

The Alderman was recalléd from a 
profound stupor by this gentleman-like 
and considerate proposal. He bowed his 
acknowledgments, and permitted Mr. Van 
Staats to quit the room; when Euclid 
would have followed, he signed to the 
negro to remain. 

““T may have occasion to question thee 
farther,’’ he said, in a voice that had lost 
none of the compass and depth for which 
it was so remarkable. ‘‘Stand there, 
sirrah, and be in readiness to answer. 
And now, Mr. Francois, I desire to know 
why my niece declines taking breakfast 
with myself and my guest ! ” 

‘*Mon Dieu, Monsieur, it is not possible 
y repondre. Les sentiments des demoi- 
selles are nevair decides ! ”’ 

“Go, then, and say to her, that my 
sentiments are decided to curtail certain 
bequests and devises, which have consulted 
her interests more than strict justice to 
others of my blood, aye, and even of my 
name, might dictate.’’ 

‘‘Monsieur y _ refiechira. 
Alide be so young personne ! ”’ 

‘‘Old or young, my mind is made up; 


Mam/’selle 


568 


and so to your Cour des Fees, and tell the 
lazy minx as much. Thou hast ridden 
that innocent, thou scowling imp of dark- 
ness !”’ 

‘‘Mais, pensez-y, je vous en prie, Mon- 
sieur. 
encore; jamais, je vous en repond.”’ 

‘‘ What is the fellow jabbering about ? ”’ 
exclaimed the Alderman, whose mouth 
fell nearly to a degree that rendered the 
countenance of the valet so singularly 
expressive of distress. ‘‘ Where is my 
niece, sir? and what means this allusion 
to her absence ? ”’ 

‘La fille de Monsieur de Barberie n’y 
est past !’’ cried Francois, whose heart 
was too fullto utter more. The aged and 
affectionate domestic laid his hand on his 
breast, with an air of acute suffering; 
then, remembering the presence of his 
superior, he turned, bowed with a manner 
of profound condolence, struggled man- 
fully with his own emotion, and succeeded 
in getting out of the room with dignity 
and steadiness. 

It is due to the character of Alderman 
Van Beverout to say that the blow occa- 
sioned by the sudden death of the Flemish 
gelding lost some of its force in conse- 
quence of so unlooked-for a report con- 
cerning the inexplicable absence of his 
niece. Euclid was questioned, menaced, 
and even anathematized, more than once, 
during the next ten minutes; but the cun- 
ning slave succeeded in confounding him- 
self so effectually with the rest of his 
connections of the half-blood, during the 
search which instantly followed the report 
of Francois, that his crime was partially 
forgotten. 

On entering la Cour des Fees, it was, 
in truth, found to want her whose beauty 
and grace had lent its chief attraction. 
The outer rooms, which were small, and 
ordinarily occupied during the day by 
Francois and the negress called Dinah, 
and in the night by the latter only, were 
in the state in which they might be ex- 
pected to be seen. The apartment of the 
attendant furnished evidence that its 
occupant had quitted it in haste, though 
there was every appearance of her having 
retired to rest at the usual hour. Clothes 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


Mam/’selle shall nevair se sauver |- 


were scattered carelessly about; and 
though most of her personal effects had 
disappeared, enough remained to prove 


that her departure had been hurried and — 


unforeseen. 
On the other hand, the little saloon, 
and the dressing-room and bedroom of la 
belle Barberie, were in a state of the most 
studied arrangement. Not an article of 
furniture was displaced, a door ajar, or a 
window open. The pavilion had evidently 
been quitted by its ordinary passage, and 
the door had been closed in the customary 
manner, without using the fastenings. 
The bed had evidently not been entered, 
for the linen was smooth and untouched. 
In short, so complete was the order of the 
place, that, yielding to a powerful natural 
feeling, the Alderman called aloud on his 
truant niece, by name, as if he expected to 
see her appear from some place in which 
she had secreted her person, in idle sport. 
But this touching expedient was vain. 
The voice sounded hollow through the de- 
serted rooms; and though all waited long 
to listen, there came no playful or laugh- 
ing answer back. 

“‘ Alida!’’ cried the burgher, for the 
fourth and last time, ‘‘come forth, child ; 
I forgive thee thy idle sport, and all I 
have said of disinheritance was but a jest. 
Come forth, my sister’s daughter, and 
kiss thy old uncle ! ”’ 

The Patroon turned aside, as he heard a 
man so known for his worldliness yielding 
to the power of nature; and the lord of a 
hundred thousand acres forget his own 
disappointment in the force of sympathy. 

‘‘ Let us retire,’’ he said, gently urging 
the burgher to quit the place. ‘‘ A little 
reflection will enable us to decide what 
should be done.’’ 

The Alderman complied. Before quit- 
ting the place, however, its closets and 
drawers were examined; and the search 
left no further doubts of the step which 
the young heiress had taken. Her clothes, 
books, utensils for drawing, and even the 
lighter instruments of music, had disap- 
peared. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


** Aye, that way goes the game, 
Now I perceive that she hath made compare 
Between our statures.”’ 
—MIDSUMMER NIGHT’sS DREAM. 


THE tide of existence flows downward, 
and with it go, in their greatest strength, 
all those affections that unite families and 
kindred. We learn to know our parents 
in the fullness of their reason, and com- 
monly in the perfection of their bodily 
strength. Reverence and respect both 
mingle with our love; but the affection 
with which we watch the helplessness of 
infancy, the interest with which we see the 
ingenuous and young profiting by our 
care, the pride of improvement, and the 
magic of hope, create an intensity of sym- 
pathy in their favor that almost equals 
the identity of self-love. There is a mys- 
terious and double existence in the tie that 
binds the parent to the child. With a voli- 
tion and passions of its own, the latter has 
power to plant a sting in the bosom of the 
former that shall wound as accurately as 
the errors which arise from mistakes, al- 
most from crimes, of its own. But when 
the misconduct of the descendant can be 
traced to neglect, or to a vicious instruc- 
tion, then, indeed, even the pang of a 
wounded conscience may be added to the 
sufferings of those who have gone before. 
Such, in some measure, was the nature of 
the pain that Alderman’ Van Beverout 
was condemned to feel, when at leisure to 
reflect on the ill-judged measure that had 
been taken by la belle Barberie. 

«She was a pleasant and coaxing minx, 
Patroon,”’ said the burgher, pacing the 
room they occupied, with a quick and 
heavy step, and speaking unconsciously 
of his niece as of one already beyond 
the interests of life; ‘‘and as willful and 
headstrong as an unbroken colt. Thou 
hard-riding imp! I shall never find a 
match for the poor, disconsolate survivor. 
But the girl had a thousand agreeable and 
delightful ways with her, that made her 
the delight of my old days. She has not 
done wisely to desert the friend and 
guardian of her youth, aye, even of her 
childhood; in order to seek protection 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


569 


from strangers. This is an unhappy 
world, Mr. Van Staats. <All our calcula- 
tions come to naught; and it is in the 
power of fortune to reverse the most 
reasonable and wisest of our expectations. 
A gale of wind drives the richly freighted 
ship to the bottom; a sudden fall in the 
market robs us of our gold, as the Novem- 
ber wind strips the oak of its leaves; and 
bankruptcies and decayed credit often 
afflict the days of the oldest houses, as 
disease saps the strength of the body ; 
Alida! Alida! thou hast wounded one 
that has never harmed thee, and ren- 
dered my age miserable !”’ 

‘‘It is vain to contend with the inclina- 
tions,’? returned the proprietor of the 
manor, sighing ina manner that did no 
discredit to the sincerity of his remark. 
‘‘T could have been happy to have placed 
your niece in the situation that my re- 
spected mother filled with so much dignity 
and credit, but it is now too late——’’ 

‘«‘We don’t know that—we don’t know 
that,’’ interrupted the Alderman, who 
still clung to the hope of effecting the first 
great wish of his heart with the pertinac- 
ity with which he would have clung to 
the terms of any other fortunate bargain. 
‘“We should never despair, Mr. Van 
Staats, as long as the transaction is left 
open.”’ 

‘The manner in which Mademoiselle 
Barberie has expressed her preference is 
so very decided that I see no hope of com- 
pleting the arrangement.”’ 

‘“‘Mere coquetry, sir, mere coquetry ! 
The girl has disappeared in order to en- 
hance the value of her future submission. 
One should never regard a treaty at an 
end, so long as reasonable hopes remain 
that it may be productive to the parties.” 

“T fear, sir, there is more of the 
coquette in this step of the young lady 
than a gentleman can overlook,’’ returned 
the Patroon a little dryly, and with far 
more point than he was accustomed to use. 
“Tf the commander of her Majesty’s 
cruiser be not a happy man, he will not 
have occasion to reproach his mistress 
with disdain ! ”’ 

‘¢T am not certain, Mr. Van Staats, that 


in the actual situation of our stipulations, 


. 570 


I ought to overlook an innuendo that 
seems to reflect on the discretion of my 
ward. Captain Ludlow—well, sirrah ! 
what is the meaning of this impertinence ? ”’ 

‘* He’m waiting to see masser,’’ returned 
the gaping Erasmus, who stood with the 
door in his hand, admiring the secret in- 
telligence of his master, who had so read- 
ily anticipated his errand. 

“Who is waiting? What does that 
simpleton mean ? ”’ 

“‘T mean a gentle’um masser say.”’ 

‘The fortunate man is here to remind 
us of his success,’’ haughtily observed Van 
Staats, of Kinderhook. ‘‘ There can be no 
necessity for my presence at an interview 
between Alderman Van Beverout and his 
nephew.”’ 

The justly mortified Patroon bowed 
ceremoniously to the equaily disappointed 
burgher, and left the room the moment he 
had done speaking. The negro took his 
retreat as a favorable symptom for one 
who was generally known to be his rival ; 
and he hastened to inform the young Cap- 
tain that the coast was clear. 

The meeting that succeeded was suffi- 
ciently constrained and awkward. Alder- 
man Van Beverout assumed a manner of 
offended authority and wounded affection; 
while the officer of the Queen wore an air 
of compelled submission to a duty that he 
found to be disagreeable. The introduc- 
tion of the discourse was consequently 
ceremonious, and punctiliously observant 
of courtesy. 

*‘It has become my office,’’ continued 
Ludlow, after the preliminaries had been 
observed, ‘‘ to express the surprise I feel, 
that a vessel of the exceedingly equivocal 
appearance of the brigantine, that is 
anchored in the Cove, should be found in 
a situation to create unpleasant suspicions 
concerning the commercial propriety of a 
merchant so well knownas Mr. Alderman 
Van Beverout.”’ 

‘<The credit of Myndert Van Beverout 
is too well established, Captain Cornelius 
Ludlow, to be affected by the accidental 
position of ships and bays. I see two 
vessels anchored near the Lust in Rust, 
and if called upon to give my testimony 
before the Queen in council, I should de- 


WORKS OF FENIMORE 


COOPER. 


clare that the one which wears her royal 
pennant had done more wrong to her sub- 
jects than the stranger. But what harm 

is known of the latter ? ”’ : 

‘‘T shall not conceal any of the facts; 
for I feelthat this is a case in which a 
gentleman of your station has the fullest 
right to the benefit of explanations——”” 

‘‘Hem!”’ interrupted the burgher, who — 
disliked the manner in which his com- 
panion had opened the interview, and who ~ 
thought he saw the commencement of a 
forced compromise in the turn it was tak- — 
ing. ‘Hem! I commend your modera- 
tion, Captain Ludlow. Sir, we are flat- 
tered in having a native of the Province — 
in so honorable a command on the coast. — 
Be seated, I pray you, young gentleman, — 
that we may converse more at leisure. 
The Ludlows are an ancient and well- — 
established family in the colonies; and — 
though they were’ no friends of King 
Charles, why—we have others here in the © 
same predicament. ‘There are few crowns — 
in Europe that might not trace some of — 
their discontented subjects to these colo- — 
nies; and the greater the reason, say I, 
why we should not be too hasty in giving — 
faith to the wisdom of this European legis- — 
lation. I do not pretend, sir, to admire 
all the commercial regulations which flow — 
from the wisdom of her Majesty’s counsel- — 
ors. Candor forbids that I should deny 
this truth: but—what of the brigantine — 
in the Cove ? ’” ‘ 

‘‘It is not necessary to tell one so famil- 
lar with the affairs of commerce, of the 
character of a vessel called the Water- 
Witch, nor that of its lawless commander, — 
the notorious Skimmer of the Seas.”’ 

“Captain Ludlow is not going to accuse © 
Alderman Van Beverout of a connection 
with such a man !”’ exclaimed the burgher, © 
rising as it were involuntarily, and act- 
ually recoiling a foot or two, apparently 
under the force of indignation and sur- 
prise. 

‘Sir, I am not commissioned to accuse 
any of the Queen’s subjects. My duty is 
to guard her interests on the water, to 
oppose her open enemies, and to uphold 
her royal prerogatives.”’ 

““An honorable employment, and one 1 


x 


doubt not that is honorably discharged. 
Resume your seat, sir; for I foresee that 
_ the conference is likely to end as it should, 
between a son of the late very respectable 


king’s counselor and his father’s friend. 
You ‘have reason then for thinking that 
this brigantine, which has so suddenly ap- 
peared in the Cove, has some remote con- 
nection with the Skimmer of the Seas? ”’ 

““7 believe the vessel to be the famous 
Water-Witch itself, and her commander 
to be, of course, the well-known advent- 
urer.”” 

‘‘ Well, sir—well, sir—this may be so. 
It is impossible for me to deny it; but 
what should such a reprobate be doing 
here, under the guns of a queen’s cruiser ? ”’ 

“Mr. Alderman, my admiration of your 
niece is not unknown to you.’’ 

«<7 have suspected it, sir,’’ returned the 
burgher, who believed the tenor of the com- 
promise was getting clearer, but who still 
waited to know the exact value of the con- 
cessions the other party would make, be- 


fore he closed a bargain in a hurry, of 


which he might repent at his leisure. 
*« Indeed, it has even been the subject of 
some discourse between us.”’ 

‘This admiration induced me to visit 
your villa the past night——’”’ 

‘‘'This is a fact too well established, 
young gentleman.”’ 

‘¢ Whence I took away—’’ Ludlow hesi- 
tated, as if anxious to select his words— 

«* Alida Barberie.”’ 

*¢ Alida Barberie ! ”’ 

«« Aye, sir ; my niece, or perhaps I should 
say my heiress, as well as the heiress of 
old Etienne de Barberie. The cruise was 
short, Captain Cornelius Ludlow ; but the 
prize-money will be ample—unless, indeed, 
a claim to neutral privileges should be 
established in favor of part of the cargo.’’ 

‘‘ Sir, your pleasantry is amusing, but 
I have little leisure for its enjoyment. 
That I visited the Cour des Fees shall not 
be denied. I think la belle Barberie will 
not be offended, under the circumstances, 
with this acknowledgment.’’ 


‘‘Tf she is, the jade has a rare squeam- | 


ishness, after what has passed ! ”’ 


“‘T pretend not to judge of more than— 


my duty. The desire to serve my royal 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


571 


mistress had induced me, Mr. Van Beve- 
rout, to cause a seaman of odd attire and 
audacious deportment to enter the Co- 
quette. You will know the man when I 
tell you that he was your companion on 
the island ferry-boat.’’ 

‘Yes, yes, I confess there was a mariner 
of the long voyage there, who caused 
much surprise, and some uneasiness to 
myself and niece, as well as to Van Staats 
of Kinderhook.’’ 

Ludlow smiled like one not to be de- 
ceived, as he continued. 

‘‘Well, sir, this man so far succeeded 
as to tempt me to suffer him to land un- 
der the obligation of some half-extorted 
promise ; we came into the river together, 
and entered your grounds in company.”’ 

Alderman Van Beverout now began to 
listen like a man who dreaded, while he 
desired to catch each syHable. Observing 
that Ludlow paused, and watched his 
countenance with a cool and steady eye, 
he recovered his self-command, and af- 
fected a mere ordinary curiosity, while he 
signed to him to proceed. 

“T am not sure I tell Alderman Van 
Beverout anything that is new,’’ resumed 
the young officer, ‘when I add that the 
fellow suffered me to visit the pavilion, 
and then contrived to lead me into an am- 
bush of lawless men, having previously 
succeeded in making captives of my boat’s 
crew.”’ 

‘“‘Seizures and warrants!’ exclaimed 
the burgher, in his natural strong and 
hasty manner of speaking. ‘‘This is the 
first I have heard of the affair. It was 
ill-judged, to call it by no other term.’’ 

Ludlow seemed relieved when he saw by 
the undisguised amazement of his. com- 
panion that the latter was, in truth, ig- 
norant of the manner in which he had 
been detained. 

‘It might not have been, sir, had our 
watch been as vigilant as their artifice 
was deep,’ he continued. ‘‘ But as I was 
little guarded, and having no means to 
reach my ship, I——’’ 

‘«‘ Aye, aye, Captain Ludlow; it is not 
necessary to be, so circumstantial; you 
proceeded to the wharf, and——”’ 

‘‘Perhaps, sir, I obeyed my feelings 


572 WORKS 


rather than my duty,’’ observed Ludlow, 
coloring high, when he perceived that the 
burgher paused to clear his throat. ‘‘I 
returned to the pavilion, where x 

“You persuaded a niece to forget her 
duty to her uncle and protector.”’ 

‘‘This is a harsh and most unjustifiable 
charge, both as respects the young lady 
and myself. I can distinguish between a 
very natural desire to possess articles of 
commerce that are denied by the laws, 
and a more deliberate and mercenary plot 
against the revenue of the country. I be- 
lieve there are few of her years and sex 
who would refuse to purchase the articles 
I saw presented to the eyes of la belle Bar- 
berie, especially when the utmost hazard 
could be no more than their loss, as they 
were already introduced into the country.’’ 

‘* A just discrimination and one likely to 
render the arrangement of our little af- 
fairs less difficult! I was sure that my 
old friend, the Counselor, would not have 
left a son of his ignorant of principles, 
more especially as he was about to embark 
in a profession of so much responsibility. 
And so my niece had the imprudence to 
entertain a dealer in contraband ? ”’ 

‘‘ Alderman Van Beverout, there were 
boats in motion on the water between this 
landing and the brigantine in the Cove. 
A periagua even left the river for the city 
at the extraordinary hour of midnight !”’ 

“Sir, boats will move on the water, 
when the hands of men set them in mo- 
tion; but what have I to answer for in 
the matter? If goods have entered the 
Province without license, why, they must 
be found and condemned; and if free- 
traders are on the coast they should be 
caught. Would it not be well to proceed 
to town, and lay the fact of this strange 
brigantine’s presence before the Governor, 
without delay ? ”’ 

““T have other intentions. If, as you 
say, goods have gone up the bay, 1t is too 
late for me to stop them; but it 1s not too 
late to attempt to seize yon brigantine. 
Now, I would perform this duty in a man- 
ner as little likely to offend any of reputa- 
ble name, as my allegiance will admit.’’ 

‘Sir, I extol this discretion—not that 
there is any testimony to implicate more 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


f 


7 


than the crew, but credit is a delicate — 
flower, and it should be handled tenderly. © 


I see an opening for an arrangement ; 
but, we will, as in duty bound, hear your 
propositions first; as you may be said to 
speak with the authority of the Queen. I 
will merely surmise that terms should be 
moderate, between friends; perhaps, I 
should say, between connections, Captain 
Ludlow.’’ | 

‘“‘T am flattered by the word, sir,’’ re- 
turned the young sailor, smiling with an 
expression of delight. ‘‘ First suffer me 
to be admitted to the charming Cour des 
Fees but for a moment.”’ 

“That is a favor which can hardly be 
refused you, who may be said to have a 
right, now, to enter the pavilion at pleas- 
ure,’’ returned the Alderman, unhesitat- 
ingly leading the way through the long 
passage to the deserted apartments of his 
niece, and continuing the blind allusions to 
the affairs of the preceding night, in the 
same indirect manner as had distinguished 
the dialogue during the whole interview. 
“T shall not be unreasonable, young 


gentleman, and here is the pavilion of my 


niece ; I wish I could add, and here also is 
its mistress ! ”’ 

‘* And is la belle Barberie no longer a 
tenant of la Cour des Fees,’’ demanded 
Ludlow, in a surprise too natural to be 
feigned. 

Alderman Van Beverout regarded the 
young man in wonder; pondered a mo- 
ment to consider how far denying a knowl- 
edge of the absence of his niece might 
benefit the officer in the pending negotia- 
tions; and he dryly observed, ‘‘ Boats 
passed on the water, during the night. 
If the men of Captain Ludlow were at first 
imprisoned, I presume they were set at 
liberty at the proper time.”’ 

*‘They are carried I know not whither ; 
the boat itself is gone, and I am here 
alone.’’ 

‘* Am I to understand, Captain Ludlow, 
that Alida Barberie has not fled my house, 


during the past night, to seek a refuge in 3 


your ship? ’”’ | 
*‘Fled!’’ echoed the young man, in a 
voice of horror. 


‘Has Alida de Barberie 
fled from the house of her uncle at all?’ 


a a 


7" “ — 


ee ee Se ee ee ee See 


THE 


WATEIR-WITCH. 


573 


‘‘Captain Ludlow, this is not acting. | reserve of her sex, as to leave even her 


On the honor of a gentleman, are you 
ignorant of my niece’s absence ? ”’ 

The young commander did not answer ; 
but, striking his head fiercely, he smoth- 
ered words that were unintelligible to his 
companion. When this momentary burst 


_ of feeling was past, he sank into a chair, 


and gazed about him in stupid amazement. 
All this pantomime was inexplicable to the 
Alderman, who, however, began to see 
that more of the conditions of the arrange- 
ment in hand were beyond the control of 
his companion than he had at first be- 
lieved. Still the plot thickened, rather 
than grew clear; and he was afraid to 
speak, lest he might utter more than was 
prudent. The silence, therefore, continued 
for quite a minute, during which time the 
parties sat gazing at each other in dull 
wonder. 

**T shall not deny, Captain Ludlow, 
that I believed you had prevailed on my 
niece to fly aboard the Coquette ; for, 


- though a man who has always kept his 


feelings in his own command, as the 
safest manner of managing particular 
interests, yet lam not to learn that rash 
youth is often guilty of folly. I am now 
equally at a loss with yourself to know 
what has become of her, since here she is 
not.’’ 

‘Hold!’ eagerly interrupted Ludlow. 
“A boat left your wharf for the city in 
the earlier hours of the morning. Is it 
not possible that she may have taken 
passage in it? ”’ 

‘It is not possible. I have reasons to 
know—in short, sir, she is not there.”’ 

‘*Then is the unfortunate—the lovely— 
the indiscreet girl forever lost to herself 
and to us!’’ exclaimed the young sailor, 
groaning under his mental agony. ‘‘ Rash, 
mercenary man ! to what an act of mad- 
ness has thirst of gold driven one so fair— 
would | could say, so pure and so inno- 
cent ! ’’ 

But while the distress of the lover was 
thus violent, and caused him to be so little 
measured in his terms of reproach, the 
uncle of the fair offender appeared to be 
lostinsurprise. Though la belle Barberie 
had so well preserved the decorum and 


suitors in doubt of the way her incli- 
nations tended, the watchful Alderman 
had long suspected that the more ardent, 
open, and manly commander of the Co- 
quette was likely to triumph over one so 
cold in exterior, and so cautious in his ad- 
vances, as the Patroon of Kinderhook. 
When, therefore, it became apparent 
Alida had disappeared, he quite naturally 
inferred that she had taken the simplest: 
manner of defeating all his plans for fav- 
oring the suit of the latter, by throwing 
herself, at once, into the arms of the young 
sailor. The laws of the colonies offered 
few obstacles to the legality of their 
union; and when Ludlow appeared that 
morning, he firmly believed that he beheld 
one, who, if he were not so already, was 
inevitably soon to become his nephew. 
But the suffering of the disappointed 
youth could not be counterfeited ; and the 
perplexed Alderman seemed utterly at a 
loss to conjecture what could have be- 
come of his niece. Wonder, rather than 
pain, possessed him, and when he suffered 
his ample chin to repose on the finger 
and thumb of one hand, it was with the 
air of a man that revolved, in his mind, 
all the plausible points of some knotty 
question. 

‘“‘Holes and corners!’’ he muttered, 
after a long silence; ‘‘the willful minx 
cannot be playing at hide and seek with 
her friends! The huzzy had ever too 
much of la famille de Barberie, and her 
high Norman blood about her, as that 
silly old valet has it, to stoop to such 
childish trifling. Gone she certainly 
is,’ he continued, looking again into the 
empty drawers and closets, ‘‘and with 
her the valuables have disappeared. The 
guitar is missing—the lute I sent across 
the ocean to purchase, an excellently- 
toned Dutch lute, that cost every stiver 
of a hundred guilders, is also wanting, 
and all the—hem—the recent accessions 
have disappeared. And there, too, are 
my sister’s jewels, that I persuaded her 
to bring along, to guard against acci- 
dents while our backs are turned—they 
are not to be seen. Francois! Francois! 
Thou long-tried servitor of Etienne Bar- 


574 WORKS 


berie, what the devil has become of thy | That 1s to say, Alida Barberie is not a 


mistress ? ”’ 


‘‘ Mais, Monsieur,”’ returned the dis- 
consolate valet, whose decent features 
exhibited all the signs of unequivocal 
suffering, ‘‘she no tell le pauvre Fran- 
En supposant, que monsieur ask 
problablement 


cois ! 
le Captaine, 
know.”’ . 

The burgher cast a quick, 


he shall 


to 
man was true. 
‘Go; desire Mr. 


ea ald; % 
the valet to withdraw. 


cried Ludlow, 
idx) 


frightful a fortune ? ”’ 


“J am not addicted to abandoning any- 
thing, sir, to which my title is just and 
If you 
are acquainted with the place where my 
and 
permit me to sua those measures which 


legal. But you speak in enigmas. 
niece is secreted, avow it frankly, 


the case requires.’ 


Ludlow reddened to his forehead, and he 
struggled powerfully with his pride and 


with his regrets. 


“It is useless to attempt concealing the 


step which Alida Barberie has been pleased 


to take,’’ he said, a smile so bitter passing 


over his features as to lend them the ex- 
pression of severe mockery; ‘‘she has 
chosen more worthily. than either of us 
could have believed ; she has found. a com- 
panion more suited to her station, her 
character, and her sex, than Van Staats 
of Kinderhook, or a poor commander of a 
queen’s ship ! ”’ 

“‘Cruisers and manors! What in the 
name of mysteries is thy meaning? The 
girl is not here ; you declare she is not on 
board of the Coquette, and there remains 
only———’’ 

“The brigantine !’’ groaned the young 
sailor, uttering the word by a violent 
effort of the will. 

“The brigantine !’”? repeated the Alder- 
man, slowly. ‘‘My niece can have noth- 
ing to do aboard a dealer in contraband. 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


suspicious 
‘glance at Ludlow, and shook his head, 
express his belief that the young 


Van Staats of Kin- 
derhook to favor us with his company.’’ 
motioning to 
Beverout, 
an uncle should be tender to the errors of 
one so dear as this cruel, unreflecting girl. 
You cannot think of abandoning her to so 


| Known to himself, before his judgiag n 


trader.’’ 

‘* Alderman Van Beverout, if we wish’ 
to escape the contamination of vice, its — 
society must be avoided. There was one 
in the pavilion of a mien and assurance > 
the past night that might delude an 
angel. Ah! woman! woman! thy mind — 
is composed of vanities, and thy imagina- — 
tion is thy bitterest foe ! ”’ 

‘“Woman and vanities!’’ echoed the 
amazed burgher. ‘* My niece, the heiress 
of old Etienne Marie de Barberie, and the 
sought of so many of honorable names 
and respectable professions, to be a ref-— 
ugee with a rover—always supposing your — 
opinions of the character of the brigantine — 
to be just. This is a conjecture too im- — 
probable to be true.’’ 

“The eye of a lover, sir, may be keener 
than that of a guardian; call it jealousy, — 
if you wish—would to Heaven my suspi- — 
cions were untrue!—but if she be not there, — 
where is she ?”’ 

The opinion of the Alderman coal q 
staggered. If la belle Barberie had not — 
yielded to the fascinations of that. way- 
ward, but seductive eye and smile, to that 
singular beauty of face, and to the secret — 
and often irresistible charm that encircles — 
eminent personal attractions, when aided 
by mystery—to what had she yielded, and — 
whither had she fled ? 

These were the reflections that now be- — 
gan to pass through the thoughts of the 
Alderman as they had already planted 
stings in the bosom of Ludlow. With re-— 
flection, conviction began slowly to assert 
its power. But the truth did not gleam 
upon the mind of the calculating and wary ; 
merchant with the same instinctive readi- 
ness that it had flashed upon the jealous” 
faculties of the lover. He pondered on— 
each circumstance of the interview be- 
tween the dealer in contraband and his 
niece ; recalled the manner and discourse 
of the former; drew certain. general and 
vague pt atime concerning the power 
which novelty, when coupled with cireum- 
stance of romance, might exercise over a 
female fancy ; and dyelt long and secretly 
on some important facts that were alone 


ee a 


= ver 


THE 


finally settled down into the same opinion 
as that which his companion had formed, 
with all the sensitiveness of jealous alarm. 

“Women and vagaries!’’ muttered 
the burgher, after his study was ended. 
‘‘Their conceits are as uncertain as the 
profits of a whaling voyage, or the luck of 
a sportsman. Captain Ludlow, your as- 


- sistance will be needed in this affair; and 


as it may not be too late, since there are 
few priests in the brigantine—always sup- 
posing her character to be what you affirm 
—my niece may yet see her error, and be 
disposed to reward so much assiduity and 
attachment.’’ 

*‘ My services shall always be ready, so 
long as they can be useful to Alida Bar- 
berie,’’ returned the young officer with 
haste, and yet a little coldly. ‘‘It will be 
time enough to speak of the reward when 
we shall have succeeded.’’ 

«The less noise that is made about a 
little domestic inconvenience like this, the 
better ; and I would therefore suggest the 
propriety of keeping our suspicions of the 
character of the vessel as a secret until we 
shall be better informed.’’ 

The Captain bowed his assent to the 
proposal. 

««And now that we are of the same 
mind in the preliminaries, we will seek the 
Patroon of Kinderhook, who has a claim 
to participate in our confidence.”’ 

Myndert then Jed the way from the 
empty and melancholy Cours des Fees, 
with a step that had regained its busy and 
firm tread, and a countenance that ex- 
pressed far more of vexation and weari- 
ness than of real sorrow. 


Se 


CHAPTER XIV. 


I'll give thee a wind.”’ 
“Thou art kind.”’ 
“* And I another.”’ 
“T myself have all the other.””»—MACBETH. 


THE cloud above the mouth of the Rar- 
itan had not risen. On the contrary, the 


_ breeze still came from off the sea; and 


the brigantine in the Cove, with the 
cruiser of the Queen, still lay at their 
anchors, like two floating habitations that 


WATER-WITOH. eee 


were not intended to be removed. The 
hour was that at which the character of 
the day becomes fixed; and there was no 
longer any expectation that a landwind 
would enable the vessel of the freetrader 
to repass the inlet before the turn of the 
tide, which was again running swiltly on 
the flood. ' 

The windows of the Lust in Rust were 
open, as when its owner was present ; and 
the menials were employed in and about ° 
the villa in their customary occupations ; 
though it was evident, by the manner in 
which they stopped to converse, and by the- 
frequent conferences which had taken place © 
in secret corners, that they wondered none 
the less at the unaccountable disappear- 
ance of their young mistress. In all other 
respects, the villa and its grounds were, 
as usual, quiet and seemingly deserted. 

But there was a group collected beneath 
the shade of an oak on the margin of the 
Cove, and at a point where it was rare for 
a man to be seen. This little party ap- 
peared to be in waiting for some expected 
communication from the brigantine ; since 
they had taken post on the side of the in- 
let next the cape, and in a situation so 
retired as to be entirely-hid from any pass- 
ing observation of those who might enter 
or leave the mouth of the Shrewsbury. 

In short, they were on the long, low, 
and narrow barrier of sand that now forms 
the projection of the Hook, and which, by 
the temporary breach that the Cove had 
made between its own waters and that of 
the ocean, was then an island. 

‘Snug should be the motto of a mer- 
chant,’’ observed one of these individ- 
uals, whose opinions will sufficiently 
announce his name to the reader. ‘‘ He 
should be snug in his dealings, and snug 
in his manner of conducting them; snug 
in his credits, and above all, snug in his 
speculations. There is as little need, gen- 
tlemen, in, calling in the aid of a posse- 
comitatus for a sensible man to keep his 
household in order, as that a discreet 
trader should go whistling through the 
public markets, with the history of his 
operations. I gladly court two so worthy 
assistants aS Captain Cornelius Ludlow 
and Mr. Oloff Van Staats; for 1 know there 


«BG 


will be no useless gossip concerning the 
trifling derangement that hath occurred. 
Ah! the black hath had communications 
with the freetrader—always supposing 
the opinion of Mr. Ludlow concerning 
the character of the vessel to be just—and 
he is quitting the brigantine.’’ 

Neither of the companions of the Alder- 
man made any reply. Each watched the 
movement of the skiff that contained their 
messenger, and each seemed to feel an 
equal interest in the result of his errand. 
Instead, however, of approaching the spot 
where his master and his two friends ex- 
pected him, the negro, though he knew 
that his boat was necessary to enable the 
party to recross the inlet, pulled directly 
.for the mouth of the river—a course that 
was exactly contrary to the one he was 
expected to take. 

“Rank disobedience !’? grumbled the 
incensed master. ‘* The irreverent dog is 
deserting us on this neck of barren sand, 
where we are cut off from all communica- 
tion with the interior, and are as com- 
pletely without the intelligence of the 
state of the market, and other necessa- 
ries, aS men in a desert! ’’ 

‘‘Here comes one that seems disposed 
to bring us to a parley,’’ observed Lud- 
low, whose practiced eye had first detected 
a boat quitting the side of the brigantine, 
as well as the direction it was about to 
Steer. 

The young commander was not de- 
ceived ; for a light cutter, that played 
like a bubble on its element, was soon 
approaching the shore where the three 
expectants were seated.. When it was 
near enough to render sight perfectly 
distinct, and speech audible without an 
effort, the crew ceased rowing, and per- 
mitted the boat to lie ina state of rest. 
The mariner of the India-shaw] then arose 
in the stern-sheets and examined the 
thicket behind the party with a curious 
and suspicious eye. After a sufficient 
search, he signed to his crew to force 
the cutter still nigher to the land, and 
spoke : 

“Who has affairs with any of the brig- 
antine?’’ he coolly demanded, wearing 
the air of one who had no reason to an- 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


ticipate the object of their visit. “ She 
has little left that can turn to profit, un-— 
less she parts with her beauty.” : 

“‘Truly, good stranger,’’ returned the 
Alderman, laying a sufficient emphasis 
on the latter word, ‘‘here are none dis- — 
posed to a traffic, which might not be. 
pleasing to the authorities of the country, — 
were its nature known. We come with a — 
desire to be admitted to a conference with — 
the commander of the vessel, on a matter — 
of especial but private concern.’’ | 

‘* Why send a public officer on the duty ? — 
I see one, there, in the livery of Queen — 
Anne. We are no lovers of her Majesty’s — 
servants, and would not willingly form — 
disagreeable acquaintances. ”’ | 

Ludlow nearly bit through his lip, in — 
endeavoring to repress his anger at the 
cool confidence of one who had already 
treated him with so little ceremony, and 
then momentarily forgetting his object, in 
professional pride, and perhaps we might — 
add in the habits of his rank, he inter- — 
rupted the dialogue. . 

“Tf you see the livery of the royal — 
authority,” he said haughtily, “you must — 
be sensible it is worn by one who is com- — 
missioned to cause its rights to be re- 
spected. J demand the name and charac- 
ter of yon brigantine !”’ 

‘‘As for character, she is, like many 
another beauty, something vituperated ; — 
nay, some carry their envy so far as to 
call it cracked! But we are jolly mari- 
ners that sail her, and little heed crazy — 
reports at the expense of our mistress. 
As for a name, we answer any hail that is 
fairly spoken, and well meant. Call us 
‘Honesty,’ if you will, for want of the 
register.”’ 

‘“There is much reason to suspect your — 
vessel of illegal practices; and, in the 
name of the Queen, I demand access to 
her papers, and the liberty of a free 
search into her cargo and crew. Else 
will there be necessity to bring her under 
the guns of the cruiser, which lies at no - 
great distance, waiting only for orders.” 

*‘It takes no scholar to read our docu- 
ments, Captain Ludlow ; they are written 
by a light keel on the rolling waters, and 
he who follows in our wake may guess at 


ee ee eas 


. 
¥ 
: 
| 


their authority. If you wish to overhaul 
our cargo, you must look sharply into the 
cuffs and aprons, the negligees and stom- 
achers of the Governor’s lady, at the next 
ball at the fort; or pry into the sail that 
is set above the farthingales of the wife 
and daughters of your Admiralty Judge ! 
We are no cheesemongers, to break the 
shins of a boarding officer among boxes 
and butter tubs.”’ 

“Your brigantine has a name, sirrah ; 
and, in her Majesty’s authority, I demand 
to know it.’’ 

*‘Heaven forbid that any here should 
dispute the Queen’s right! You are a 
seaman, Captain Ludlow, and have an eye 
for comeliness in a craft, as well as ina 
woman. Look at those harpings! There 
is no fall of a shoulder can equal that 
curve, in grace or richness; this shear 
surpasses the justness and delicacy of any 
waist; and there you see the transoms, 
swelling and rounded like the outlines of 
a Venus. Ah! sheis a bewitching creat- 
ure; and no wonder that, floating as she 
does, on the seas, they should have called 
her—”’ 

““Water-Witch!”’ said Ludlow, finding 
that the other paused. 

““You deserve to be one of the sister- 
hood yourself, Captain Ludlow, for this 
readiness in divination !’”’ 

«“ Amazement and surprise, Patroon !”’ 
exclaimed Myndert, with a tremendous 
hem. ‘Here is a discovery to give a re- 
spectable merchant more uneasiness than 
the undutiful conduct of fifty nieces! This 
vessel then is the famous brigantine of the 
notorious Skimmer of the Seas! a man 
whose misdeeds in commerce are as uni- 
versally noted as the stoppage of a gen- 
eral dealer! Pray, Master Mariner, do 
not distrust our purposes. We do not 
come, sent by any authority of the coun- 
try, to pry into your past transactions, of 
which’ it is quite unnecessary for you to 
speak ; and far less to indulge in any un- 
lawful thirst of gain, by urging a traffic 
that is forbidden by the law. We wish 
solely to confer with the celebrated free- 
booter and rover, who must, if your ac- 
count be true, command the vessel, for a 
few minutes, on an affair of common in- 


IV.—19 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


Se Gi 


terest to the three. This officer of the ~ 
Queen is obliged, by his duty, to make 

certain demands of you, with which you. 
will comply, or not. at your own good dis- 

cretion ; and since her Majesty’s cruiser is 

so far beyond reach of bullet, it cannot be 

expected you will do otherwise; but fur- 

ther than that he has no present intention 

to proceed. Parley and civilities! Cap- 

tain Ludlow, we must speak the man fair, 

or he will leave us to get over thé inlet, 

and. back to the Lust in Rust, as we 

may; and that, too, as empty-handed as 

we came. Remember our stipulations, 

without observing which I shall a ithdraw — 
from the adventure altogether.’ 

Ludlow bit his lip, and continued silent 
The seaman of the shawl, or Master Tiller, 
aS he has been more than once called, 
again narrowly examined the background, 
and caused his boat to approach so near 
the land that it was possible’ to step into- 
it by the stern. 

«‘Enter,’’ he said to the Captain of the 
Coquette, who needed no second invita- 
tion; ‘‘enter, for a valuable hostage is a 
safe pledge in a truce. The Skimmer is no 
enemy to good company ; and I have done 
justice to the Queen’s servitor, by intro- 
ducing him already, by name and char- 
acter.’’ | 

‘« Fellow, the success of your deception 
may cause you to triumph for a time; but 
remember that the Coquette——’’ 

“Is a wholesome boat, whose abilities I 
have taken, to the admeasurement of her 
moment-glass,’’ observed Tiller, very © 
coolly taking the words out of the other’s 
mouth. ‘‘But.as there is business to be 
done with the silane we will eye 
more of this anon.’ 

The mariner of the shawl, who ad 
maintained his former audacious de- 
meanor, now became grave ; and he spoke 
to his crew with authority, bidding them 
pull the boat to the side of the brigantine. 

The exploits, the mysterious. character, 
and the daring of the Water-Witch, and 
of him who sailed her, were, in that day, 
the frequent subjects of anger, admira- 
tion, and surprise. Those who found 
pleasure in the marvelous, listened to the 
wonders that were recounted of her speed 


578 


and boldness with pleasure ; they who had 
been so often foiled in their attempts to 
arrest the hardy dealers in contraband, 


reddened at her name; and all wondered | 


at the success and intelligence with which 
her movements were controlled. It will, 
therefore, create no astonishment when we 
say, that Ludlow and the Patroon drew 
near to the light and graceful fabric with 
an interest that deepened at each stroke of 
the oars. So much of a profession which, 
in that age, was particularly marked and 
apart from the rest of mankind in habits 
and opinions, had been interwoven into the 
character of the former, that he could not 
see the just proportions, the graceful 
outlines of the hull, or the exquisite sym- 
metry and neatness of the spars and 
rigging, without experiencing a feeling 
somewhat allied to that which undeniable 
superiority excites in the heart of even a 
rival. There was also a taste in the style 
of the merely ornamental parts of the 
delicate machine which caused as much 
surprise as her model and rig. 

Seamen, in all ages, and in every state 
of their art, have been ambitious of be- 
stowing on their floating habitations a 
style of decoration which, while appropri- 
ate to their element, should be thought 
somewhat analogous to the architectural 
ornaments of the land. Piety, supersti- 
tion, and national usages affect these 
characteristic ornaments, which are still 
seen, in different quarters of the world, to 
occasion broad distinctions between the 
appearances of vessels. In one, the 
rudder-head is carved with the resem- 
blance of some hideous monster; another 
shows goggling eyes and lolling tongues 
from its cat-heads; this has the patron 
saint, or the ever-kind Marie, embossed 
upon its moldings or bows; while that 
is covered with the allegorical emblems 
of country and duty. Few of these ef- 
forts of nautical art are successful ; 
though a_ better taste appears to be 
gradually redeeming even this branch of 
human industry from the rubbish of bar- 
barism, and to be elevating it to a state 
which shall do no violence to the more fas- 
tidious opinions of the age. But the ves- 
sel of which we write, though constructed 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


at so remote a period, would have done 
credit to the improvements of our own 
time. y | | ? 

It has been said that the hull of this 
celebrated smuggler was low, dark, 
molded with exquisite art, and so justly 
balanced as to ride upon its element like a 
sea-fowl. For a little distance above the 
water it showed a blue that vied with the 
color of the deep ocean, the use of copper 
being then unknown; while the more 
superior parts were of a jet black, deli- 
cately relieved by two lines of a straw- 
color, that were drawn with mathematical 
accuracy, parallel to the plane of her up- 
per works, and consequently converging 
slightly toward the sea, beneath her coun- 
ter. Glossy hammock-cloths concealed 
the persons of those who were on the 
deck, while the close bulwarks gave the 
brigantine the air of a vessel equipped for 
war. Still the eye of Ludlow ran curi- 
ously along the whole extent of the two 
straw-colored lines, seeking in vain some 
evidence of the weight and force of her 
armament. If she had ports at all, they 
were so ingeniously concealed as to escape 
the keenest of his glances. The nature of — 
the rig has been already described. Par- 
taking of the double character of brig and 
schooner, the sails and spars of the for- 
ward-mast being of the former, while 
those of the after-mast were of the latter 
construction, seamen have given to this 
class of shipping the familiar name of her- 
maphrodites. But though there might be 
fancied by this term some want of the 
proportions that constitute seemliness, it 
will be remembered that the departure 
was only from some former rule of art, 
and that no violence had been done to 
those universal and permanent laws which 
constitute the charm of nature. | 

The models of glass which are seen — 
representing the machinery of a ship are 
not more exact or just in their lines than — 
were the cordage and spars of this brig- — 
antine. Notarope varied from its true — 
direction ; not a sail, but it resembled the 
neat folds of some prudent housewife; 
not a mast or a yard was there, but it 
rose into the air, or stretched its. arms, 
with the most fastidious attention to sym- 


of grace, seeming to lend to the fabric a 
character of unreal lightness and speed. 
As the boat drew near her side, a change 
of the air caused the buoyant bark to turn 
like a vane to its current; andas all the 
long and pointed proportions of her head- 


gear came into view, Ludlow saw beneath | 


the bowsprit an image that might be sup- 
posed to make, by means of allegory, 
some obvious allusions to the character 
of the vessel. A female form, fashioned 
with the carver’s best skill, stood on the 
projection of the cutwater. The figure 
rested lightly on the ball of one foot, 
while the other was suspended in an easy 
attitude, resembling the airy posture of 
the famous Mercury of the Bolognese. 
The drapery was fluttering, scanty, and 
of a light sea-green tint, as if it had im- 
bibed a hue from the element beneath. 
The face was of that dark bronze color 
which human ingenuity has, from time 
immemorial, adopted as the best medium 
to portray a superhuman expression. The 
locks were disheveled, wild, and rich; the 
eye full of such a meaning as might be fan- 
cied to glitter in the organs of a sorcer- 
ess; while a smile so strangely meaning 
and malign played about the mouth that 
the young sailor started when it first met 
his view, as if aliving thing had returned 
his look. 

<«“Witcheraft and necromancy !’’ grum- 


bled the Alderman, as this extraordinary 


image came suddenly on his vision also. 
‘‘Here is a brazen looking huzzy ! and 
one who might rob the Queen’s treasury 
itself, without remorse! Your eyes are 
young, Patroon; what is that the minx 
holds so impudently above her head ? ” 

“Tt seems an open book, with letters of 
red written on its pages. One need not 
be a conjurer to divine it is no extract from 
the Bible.’’ 

‘Nor from the statute books of Queen 
Anne. | warrant me ’tis a ledger of 
profit gained in her many wanderings. 
Gogegling and leers! the bold air of the 
confident creature 1s enough to put an 
honest man out of countenance! ”’ 

“Wilt read the motto of the witch?’’ 
demanded he of the India-shawl, whose 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


metry. All was airy, fanciful, and full} eye had been studying the detail of the 


brigantine’s equipment, rather than at- 
tending to the object which so much 
attracted the looks of his companions. 
‘The night air has tautened the cordage 
of that flying-jib-boom, fellows, until it 
begins to lift its nose like a squeamish 
cockney, when he holds it over salt water ! 
See to it, and bring the spar in line; else 
we shall have a reproof from the sorceress, 
who little likes to have any of her limbs 
deranged. Here, gentlemen, the opinions 
of the lady may be read as clearly as 
woman’s mind can ever be fathomed.’’ 

While speaking to his crew, Tiller had 
changed the direction of the boat; and it 
was soon lying, in obedience to a motion 
of his hand, directly beneath the wild and 
significant looking image just described. 
The letters in red were now distinctly 
visible ; and when Alderman Van Beve- 
rout had adjusted his spectacles, each of 
the party read the following sentence : 

“ Albeit I never lend nor borrow, 

By taking nor giving of excess, 


Yet tosupply the ripe wants of my friend, 
I’ll break a custom.”—Merchant of Venice. 


‘The brazen!’’? exclaimed Myndert, 
when he had gone through this quotation 
from the immortal bard. ‘‘ Ripe or green, 
one could not wish to be the friend of so 
impudent a thing; and then to impute 
such sentiments to any respectable com- 
mercial man, whether of Venice or Am- 
sterdam! Let us board the brigantine, 
friend mariner, and end the connection 
ere foul mouths begin to traduce our 
motives for the visit.’’ 

<The overdriven ship plows the seas 
too deep for speed; we shall get into 
port in better season without this haste. 
Wilt take another look into the darlk 
lady’s pages? A woman’s mind is never 
known at the first answer !”’ 

The speaker raised the rattan he still 
carried and caused a page of painted 
metal to turn on hinges that were so art- 
fully concealed as not to be visible. A 
new surface, with another extract, was 
seen. 

«‘ What is it, what is it, Patroon ?’’ de- 
manded the burgher, who appeared greatly 
to distrust the discretion of the sorceress. 


579 


~-- 04 


580 WORKS 


‘‘ Follies and rhymes ! but this is the way 
of the whole sex ; when Nature has denied 
them tongues, they invent other means of 
speech.”’ 
‘* Porters of the sea and land, 
Thus do go about, about; 


Thrice to thine, and thrice to thine, 
And thrice again to make up nine.”’ 


‘‘ Rank nonsense!’’ continued the 
burgher. ‘‘It is well for those who can, 
to add thrice and thrice to their store ; 
but look you, Patroon—it is a thriving 
trade that can double the value of the ad- 
venture, and that with reasonable risks, 
and months of patient watching.”’ 

‘“We have other pages,’’ returned Til- 
ler, ‘‘but our affairs drag for want of 
attending to them. One may read much 
good matter in the book of the sorceress, 
when there is leisure and opportunity. I 
often take occasion, in the calms, to look 
into her volume; and it is rare to find the 
same moral twice told, as these brave sea- 
men can swear.”’ 

The mariners at the oars confirmed this 
assertion by their grave and believing 
faces, while their superior caused the boat 
to quit the place, and the image of the 
Water-Witch was left floating in solitude 
above her proper element. 

The arrival of the cutter produced no 
sensation among those who were found on 
the deck of the brigantine. The mariner 
of the shawl welcomed his companions 
frankly and heartily; and then he left 
them for a minute to make their observa- 
tions, while he discharged some duty in 
the interior of the vessel. The moments 
were not lost, as powerful curiosity induced 
all the visitors to gaze about them, in the. 
manner in which men study the appear- 
ance of any celebrated object, that has 
long been known only by reputation. It 
was quite apparent that even Alderman 
Van Beverout had penetrated farther into 
the mysteries of the beautiful brigantine 
tnan he had ever before been. But it was 
Ludlow who gathered most from this brief 
opportunity, and whose understanding 
glances so rapidly and eagerly ran over 
all that a seaman could wish to examine. 

An admirable neatness reigned in every 
part. The planks of the deck resembled 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


the work of the cabinet maker, rather 
than the coarser labor which is generally 
seen in such a place; and the same excel- 
lence of material, and exactness in the fin- 
ish, were visible in the ceilings of the light 
bulwarks, the railings, and all the other 
objects which necessarily came conspicu- 
ously into view, in the construction of such 
a fabric. Brass was tastefully rather than 
lavishly used on many of those parts where 
metal was necessary ; and the paint of the 
interior was everywhere a light and deli- 
cate straw-color. Armament there was 
none, or at least none visible ; nor did the 
fifteen or twenty grave-looking seamen, 
who were silently lounging with folded 
arms about the vessel, appear to be those 
who would find pleasure. in scenes of vio- 
lence. They were, without an exception, 
men who had reached the middle age, of 
weather-worn and thoughtful counte- 
nances, many of them even showing — 
heads that had begun to be grizzled more 
by time than even by exposure. Thus 
much Ludlow had been enabled to ascer- 
tain, ere they were rejoined by Tiller. 
When the latter again came on deck, he 
showed, however, no desire to conceal any 
of the perfections of his habitation. 

‘The willful sorceress is no niggard in 
accommodating her followers,’’ said the 
mariner, observing the manner in which 
the Queen’s officer was employed. “ Here, 
you see, the Skimmer keeps room enough 
for an admiral in his cabins ; and the fel- 
lows are berthed aft far beyond the fore- 
mast; wilt step to the hatch and look 
below ? ”’ 

The Captain and his companions did as 
desired, and to the amazement of the for- 
mer he perceived that with the exception 
of a sort of room fitted up with large and 
water-tight lockers, which were placed in 
full view, all the rest of the brigantine 
was occupied by the accommodations of 
her officers and crew. 

“The world gives us the reputation 
of freetraders,’’ continued Tiller, smil- 
ing maliciously; ‘‘but if the admiralty 
court were here, big wigs and high staffs, 
judge and jury, it would be at a loss to 
bring us to conviction. There is iron to 


| keep the lady on her feet, and water, with 


eS 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


some garnish of Jamaica, and the wines of 
old Spain and the islands, to cheer the 
hearts and cool the mouths of my fellows, 
beneath that deck; and more than that 
there is not. We have stores for the 
table and the breeze beyond yon bulkhead ; 
and here are lockers beneath you, that 
are—empty ! See, one is open; it is neat 
as any drawer in a lady’s bureau. This 
is no place for your Dutchman’s strong 
waters, or the coarse skins of your 
tobacconist. Odd’s my life! He who 
would go on thescent of the Water-Witch’s 
lading, must follow your beauty in her 
satins, or your parson in his band and 
gown. ‘There would be much lamentation 
in the church, and many a heavy-hearted 
bishop, were it known that the good craft 
had come to harm !”’ 

“There must be an end to this auda- 
cious trifling with the law,’’ said Ludlow ; 


“and the time may be nearer than you 


suppose.”’ 

**T look at the pages of the lady’s book 
in the pride of each morning: for we have 
it aboard here, that when she intends to 
serve us foul, she will at least be honest 
enough to give a warning. The mottoes 
often change, but her words are ever true. 
*Tis hard to overtake the driving mist, 
Captain Ludlow, and he must hold good 
way with the wind itself who wishes to 
stay long in our company.”’’ 

*“Many a boastful sailor has _ been 
caught. The breeze that is good for the 
light of draught, and the breeze that is 
good for the deep keel, are different. You 
may live to learn what a stout spar, a 
wide arm, and a steady hull can do.”’ 

*“The lady of the wild eye and wicked 
smile protect me! I have seen the witch 
buried fathoms deep in brine, and the 
glittering water falling from her tresses 
like golden stars; but never have I read 
an untruth in her pages. There is good 
intelligence between her and some on 
board; and, trust me, she knows the 
path of the ocean too well to steer a wrong 
course. But we prate like gossiping river- 
men. Wilt see the Skimmer of the Seas ? ”’ 

‘Such is the object of our visit,’’ re- 
turned Ludlow, whose heart beat violently 
at the name of the redoubtable rover. 


581 


“Tf you are not he, bring us where he 
ise? 

‘‘Speak lower; if the lady under the 
bowsprit hear such treason against her 
favorite, 1’11 not answer for her good will. 
If lam not he!’’ added the hero of the 
India-shawl, laughing freely. ‘‘ Well, an 
ocean is bigger than a sea, and a bay is 
not a gulf. Youshall have an opportunity 
of judging between us, noble Captain, and 
then I leave opinions to each man’s wisdom. 
Follow.’’ 

He quitted the hatchway, and led his 
companions toward the accommodations 
in the stern of the vessel. 


CHAPTER XV. 
‘“God save you, sir! 
And you, sit; you are welcome. 
Travel you, sir, or are you at the farthest ?”’ 
—TAMING OF THE SHREW. 

IF the exterior of the brigantine was sc 
graceful in form and so singular in ar- 
rangement, the interior was still more 
worthy of observation. There were two 
small cabins beneath the main deck, one 
on each side of, and immediately adjoin- 
ing, the limited space that was destined 
to receive her light but valuable cargoes. 
It wasinto one of these that Tiller had 
descended like a man who freely entered 
into his own apartment; but partly 
above, and nearer to the stern, were a 
suite of little rooms that were fitted and 
furnished in a style altogether different. 
The equipments were those of a yacht 
rather than those which might be sup- 
posed suited to the pleasures of even the 
most successful dealer in contraband. 

The principal deck had been sunk 
several feet, commencing at the aftermost 
bulkhead of the cabins of the subordinate 
officers, in a manner to give the necessary 
height without interfering with the line 
of the brigantine’s shear. The arrange- 
ment was consequently not to be seen by 
an observer who was not admitted into the 
vessel itself. A descent of a step or two, 
however, brought the visitors to a level 
of the cabin floor, and into an ante-room 
that was evidently fitted for the conven- 
ience of the domestics. A small silver 


582 WORKS 


hand-bell lay on the table, and Tiller rang 
it lightly, like one whose ordinary manner 
was restrained by respect. It was an- 
swered by the appearance of a boy, whose 
years could not exceed® ten, and whose 
attire was so whimsical as to merit de- 
scription. 

The material of the dress of this young 
servitor of Neptune was a light rose-col- 
ored silk, cut in a fashion to resemble the 
habits formerly worn by pages of the 
great. His body was belted by a band 
of gold, a collar of fine thread lace floated 
on his neck and shoulders, and even his 
feet were clad in a sort of buskins that 
were ornamented with fringes of real lace 
and tassels of bullion. The form and feat- 
ures of the child were delicate, and-his 
air as unlike as possible to the coarse and 
brusk manner of a vulgar ship-boy. 

“Waste and prodigality !’? muttered 
the Alderman, when the extraordinary 
little usher presented himself, in answer 
to the summons of Tiller. ‘‘This is the 
very wantonness of cheap goods and un- 
fettered commerce! There is enough of 
Mechlin, Patroon, on the shoulders of 
that urchin, to deck the stomacher of the 
Queen. ’*Fore George, goods were cheap 
in the market when the young scoundrel 
had his livery!”’ - 

The surprise was not confined, however, 
to the observant and frugal burgher. 
Ludlow and Van Staats of Kinderhook 
manifested equal amazement, though 
their wonder was exhibited in a less 
characteristic manner. The former turn- 
ed short to demand the meaning of this 
masquerade, when he perceived that the 
hero of the India-shawl] had disappeared. 
They were then alone with the fantastic 
page, and it became necessary to trust 
to his intelligence for directions how to 
proceed. 

“Who art thou, child?—and who has 
sent thee hither?’’ demanded Ludlow. 
The boy raised a cap of the same rose- 
colored silk, and pointed to an image of a 
female, with a swarthy face and a malign 
smile, painted, with exceeding art, on its 
front. 

*“T serve the sea-green lady, with others 
of the brigantine.’’ 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


‘*And who is the lady of the color of 
shallow water, and whence come you, in 
particular ?”’ 

‘This is her likeness: if you would 
speak with her, she stands on the cut- 
water, and rarely refuses an answer. ”’ 

<°Tis odd that a form of wood should 
have the gift of speech ! ”’ 

“Dost think her then of wood?’ re- 
turned the child, looking timidly, and yet 
curiously, up into the face of Ludlow. 
‘‘Others have said the same; but those 
who know best deny it. She does not 
answer with a tongue, but the book has 
always something to say.’’ 

‘‘Here is a grievous deception practiced 
on the superstition of this boy! Ihave 
read the book and can make little of its 
meaning.’’ 

“Then read again. °’Tis by many 
reaches that the leeward vessel gains 
upon the wind. My master bid me ask 
you in——”’ | 


‘‘Hold—thou hast both master and 


mistress? You have told us of the lat- 
ter, but we would know something of the 
former. Who is thy master ?’’ 

The boy smiled and looked aside, as if 
he hesitated to answer. 

‘“‘Nay, refuse not to reply. I come with 
the authority of the Queen.’’ 

‘He tells us that the sea-green lady is 
our queen, and that we have no other.’’ 

‘‘Rashness and rebellion !’’? muttered 
Myndert, ‘‘ but this foolhardiness will one 
day bring as pretty a brigantine as ever 
sailed in the narrow seas to condemna- 
tion; and then there will be rumors 
abroad, and characters cracked, until 
every lover of gossip in the Americas 
shall be tired of defamation.’’ 

“It is a bold subject that dares say 
this !’’ rejoined Ludlow, who heeded not 
the by-play of the Alderman; ‘* your 
master has a name? ’”’ 

‘«“We never hear it. When Neptune 
boards us under the tropics, he always 
hails the Skimmer of the Seas, and then 
they answer. The old god knows us well, 
for we pass his latitude oftener than other 
ships, they say.’’ 

‘‘ You are then a cruiser of some service 
in the brigantine—no doubt you have trod 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


many distant shores, belonging to so swift 
a craft.’’ 

‘‘T! I never was on land,’’ returned 
the boy, thoughtfully. ‘It must be droll 
to bethere; they say one can hardly walk, 
it is so steady! I put a question to the 
sea-green lady before we came to the 


narrow inlet, to know when I was to go 


ashore.”’ 

«© And she answered ?”’ 

«It was some time first. Two watches 
were past before a word was to be seen; 
at last I got the lines. I believed she 
mocked me, though I have never dared 
show it to my master, that he might say.’’ 

‘“‘Hast the words here ?—perhaps we 
might assist thee, as there are some among 
us who know most of the sea-paths.”’ 

The boy looked timidly and suspiciously 
around; then thrusting a hand hurriedly 
into a pocket, he drew forth two bits of 


paper, each of which contained a scrawl, 


and both of which had evidently been 
much thumbed and studied. 

‘‘Here,’’ he said in a voice that was 
nearly suppressed to a whisper. ‘‘ This 
was on the first page. Iwasso frightened 
lest the lady should be angry that I did 
not look again until the next watch; and 
then,” turning the leaf, ‘‘I found this.”’ 

Ludlow took the bit of paper first 
offered, and read, written in a child’s 
hand, the following extract : 


““T pray thee 
Remember, I have done thee worthy service ; 
Told thee no lies, made no mistakings, served 
Without or grudge or grumblings.”’ 


‘«T thought that ’twas in mockery,” 
continued the boy, when he saw by the eye 
of the young Captain that he had read 
the quotation: ‘“‘for it was very like, 
though more prettily worded, than that 


' which I had said myself ! ”’ 


«* And what was the second answer ? ”’ 
<«“This was found in the first morning 
watch,’’ the child returned, reading the 
second extract himself : 
‘Thou think’st 


It much to tread the ooze of the salt deep, 
And run upon the sharp wind of the north !” 


<‘T never dared to ask again. But what 
matters that? They say the ground is 


583 


rough and difficult to walk on ; that carth- 
quakes shake it and make holes to swallow 
cities ; men slay each other on the high- 
ways for money, and that the house I see 
on the hills must always remain in the 
same spot. It must be very melancholy 
to live always in the same spot; but then 
it must be odd never to feel a motion! ”’ 

‘‘Kxcept the occasional rocking of an 
earthquake. Thou art better afloat, 
child; but thy master, this Skimmer of 
the Seas——’’ 

‘‘ Hist !’’? whispered the boy, raising a 
finger for silence. ‘‘ He has come up into 
the great cabin. In a moment we shall 
have his signal to enter.’’ 

A. few light touches on the strings of a 
guitar followed, and then a symphony 
was rapidly and beautifully executed, by 
one in the adjoining apartment. 

‘* Alida, herself, is not more nimble-fin- 
gered,’’ whispered the Alderman ; ‘‘ and I 
never heard the girl touch the Dutch lute 
that cost a hundred Holland guilders with 
a livelier movement ! ”’ 

Ludlow signed for silence. A fine, manly 
voice, of great richness and depth, was 
soon heard, singing to an accompaniment 
on the same instrument. The air was 
grave, and altogether unusual for the so- 
cial character of one who dwelt upon the 
ocean, being chiefly in recitative. The 
words, as nearas might be distinguished, 
ran as follows: 

‘“My brigantine ! 
Just in thy mold, and beauteous in thy form, 
Gentle in roll, and buoyant on the surge, 
Light as the sea-fowl, rocking in the storm, 


In breeze and gale, thy onward course we urge, 
My Water-Queen ! 


‘‘ Lady of mine! 
More light and swift than thou, none thread the sea, 
With surer keel, or steadier on its path : 
We brave each waste of ocean-mystery, 
And laugh to hear the howling tempest’s wrath ! 
For we are thine! 


‘* My brigantine! 
Trust to the mystic power that points thy way, 
Trust to the eye that pierces from afar, 
Trust the red meteors that around thee play 
And fearless trust the sea-green lady’s star ; 
Thou bark divine !” 


‘¢He often sings thus,’’ whispered the 


boy, when the song was ended ; ‘‘ they 
say the sea-green lady loves music that 


584 


tells of the ocean, and of her power. 
Hark! he has bid me enter.’’ 

‘‘He did but touch the strings of the 
guitar again. boy.’’ 

“Tis his signal, when the weather is 
fair. When we have the whistlings of the 
wind and the roar of the water, then he 
has a louder call.’’ 

Ludlow would have gladly listened 
longer; but the boy opened a door, and, 
pointing the way to those he conducted, 
he silently vanished, himself, behind a 
curtain. 

The visitors, more particularly the young 
commander of the Coquette, found new sub- 
jects of admiration and wonder on entering 
the main cabin of the brigantine. The 
apartment, considering the size of the ves- 
sel, was spacious and high. It received 
hight from a couple of windows in the stern, 
and it was evident that two smaller rooms, 
one on each of the quarters, shared with 
it in this advantage. The space between 
these state-rooms, as they are called in 
nautical language, necessarily formed a 
deep alcove, which might be separated 
from the outer portion of the cabin by a 
curtain of damask, that now hung in fes- 
toons from a beam fashioned into a gilded 
cornice. <A luxurious-looking pile of cush- 
ions, covered with red morocco, lay along 
the transom, in the manner of an eastern 
divan; and against the bulkhead of the 
state-room stood an agrippina of mahog- 
any, that was lined with the same mate- 
rial. Neat and tasteful cases for books 
were suspended here and there; and the 
guitar which had so lately been used lay 
ona small table of some precious wood, 
that occupied the center of the alcove. 
There were also other implements, like 
those which occupy the leisure of a culti- 
vated but perhaps an effeminate rather 
than a vigorous mind, scattered around, 
some evidently long neglected, and others 
appearing to have been more recently in 
favor. 

The outer portion of the cabin was fur- 
nished in a similar style, though it con- 
tained many more of the articles that 
ordinarily belong to domestic economy. 
It had its agrippina, its piles of cushions, 
its chairs of beautiful wood, its cases for 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


books, and its neglected instruments, in- 
termixed with fixtures of more solid and 
permanent appearance, which were ar- 
ranged to meet the violent motion that 
was often unavoidable in so small a bark. 

There was a slight hanging of crimson 


damask around the whole apartment ; — 


and, here and there, a small mirror was 
let into the bulkheads and ceilings. All 
the other parts were of rich mahogany, 
relieved by panels of rosewood, that gave 
an appearance of exquisite finish to the 
cabin. The floor was covered with a mat 
of the finest texture, and of a fragrance 
that announced both its freshness and the 
fact that the grass had been the growth 
of a warm and luxurious climate. The 
place, as was indeed the whole vessel, so 
far as the keen eye of Ludlow could detect, 
was entirely destitute of arms, not even a 
pistol or a sword being suspended in those 
places where weapons of that description 
are usually seen in all vessels employed 
either in war or in a trade that might 
oblige those who sail them to deal in 
violence. 

In the center of the alcove stood the 
youthful-looking and extraordinary per- 
son who, in so unceremonious a manner, 


had visited la Cour des Fees the preced- . 


ing night. His dress was much the 
same, in fashion and material, as when 
last seen; still, it had been changed; 
for, on the breast of the silken frock 


was painted an image of the sea-green 


lady, done with exquisite skill, and in a 
manner to preserve the whole of the wild 
and unearthly character of the expres- 
sion. The wearer of this singular orna- 
ment leaned lightly against the little 
table, and as he bowed with entire self- 
possession to his guests, his face lighted 
with a smile that seemed to betray 
melancholy, no less than courtesy. At 
the same time he raised his cap, and 
stood in the rich, jet-black locks with 


which Nature had so exuberantly shaded — 


his forehead. 

The manner of the visitors was less 
easy. The deep anxiety with which both 
Ludlow and the Patroon had undertaken 
to board the notorious smuggler had given 
place to an amazement and a curiosity 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


that caused them nearly to forget their 
errand; while Alderman Van Beverout 
appeared shy and suspicious, manifestly 
thinking less of his niece than of the con- 
Sequences of so remarkable an interview. 
They all returned the salutation of their 
host, though each one waited for him to 
speak. 

«They tell me I have the pleasure to 
receive a commander of Queen Anne’s ser- 
vice, the wealthy and honorable Patroon 
of Kinderhook, and a most worthy and re- 
spectacle member of the city corporation, 
known as Alderman Van Beverout,’’ com- 
menced the individual who did the honors 
of the vessel on this occasion. ‘‘It is not 
often that my poor brigantine is thus fav- 
ored, and, in the name of my mistress, I 
would express our thanks.’’ 

As he ceased speaking, he bowed again 
with ceremonious gravity, as if all were 
equally strangers to him; though the 
young men saw plainly that a smothered 
smile played about a mouth that even they 
could not refuse the praise of being of rare 
and extraordinary attraction. 

‘““As we have but one mistress,’’ said 
Ludlow, ‘‘it is our common duty to wish 
_to do her pleasure.’’ 

‘TY understand you, sir. It is scarce 
necessary to say that the wife of George 
of Denmark has little authority here. 
Forbear, I pray you,’’ he added, quick- 
ly, observing that Ludlow was about to 
answer. ‘‘These interviews with the 
servants of that lady are not unfrequent ; 


and as I know other matters have sent’ 


you hither, we will imagine all said that 
a vigilant officer and a most loyal sub- 
ject could utter to an outlaw and a trifler 
with the regulations of the customs. That 
controversy must be settled between us 
under our canvas, and by virtue of our 
speed, or other professional qualities; at 
proper time and in a proper place. We 
will now touch on different matters.”’ 

‘7 think the gentleman is right, Pa- 
troon. When matters are ripe for the 
exchequer there is no use in worrying the 
lungs with summing up the testimony, 
like a feed advocate. Twelve discreet 
men who have bowels of compassion for 
the vicissitudes of trade, and who know 


585 


how hard it is to earn and how easy it is 
to spend, will deal with the subject better 
than all the idle talkers in the Provinces.”’ 

‘“When confronted to the twelve disin- 
terested Daniels, I shall be fain to submit 
to their judgment,’’ rejoined the other, 
still suffering the willful smile to linger 
round his lips. ‘‘ You, sir, I think, are 
called Mr. Myndert Van Beverout. To 
what fall in peltry, or what rise in mar- 
kets, do I owe the honor of this visit ? ”’ 

“‘It is said that some from this vessel 
were so bold as to land on my grounds, 
during the past night, without the knowl- 
edge and consent of their owner—you will 
observe the purport of our conversation, 
Mr. Van Staats, for it may yet come be- 
fore the authorities—as I said, sir, without 
their owner’s knowledge, and that there 
were dealings in articles that are contra- 
band of law unless they enter the prov- 
inces purified and embellished by the air 
of the Queen’s European dominions—God 
bless her Majesty ! ”’ 

“Amen. That which quitteth the 
Water-Witch commonly comes purified 
by the air of many different regions. We 
are no laggardsin movement, here; and 
the winds of Europe scarcely cease to blow 
upon our sails before we scent the gales 
of America. But this is rather exchequer 
matter, to be discussed before the twelve 
merciful burghers, than entertainment for 
such a visit.”’ 

‘*T open with the facts, that there may 
be noerrors. Butin addition to so foul an 
imputation on the credit of a merchant 
there has agreat calamity befallen me and 
my household during the past night. The 
daughter and heiress of old Etienne de 
Barberie has left her abode, and we have 
reason to believe that she has been deluded 
so far as to come hither. Faith and cor- 
respondence! Master Seadrift; but I 
think this is exceeding the compass of even 
a trader in contraband! I can make 
allowance for some errors in an account; 
but women can be exported and imported 
without duty, and when and where one 
pleases, and, therefore, the less necessity 
for running them out of their old uncle’s 
habitation in so secret a manner.”’ 

‘An undeniable position, and a feeling 


586 


conclusion! I admit the demand to be 
made in all form, and I suppose these two 
gentlemen are to be considered as witnesses 
of its legality.’’ 

«We have come to aid a wronged and 
distressed relative and guardian in search- 
ing for his misguided ward,’’? Ludlow 
answered. 

The freetrader turned his eyes on the 
Patroon, who signified his assent by a 
silent bow. 

«Tis well, gentlemen; I also admit the 
testimony. But though in common be- 
lieved so worthy a subject for justice, I 
have hitherto had but little direct com- 
munication with the blind deity. Do the 
authorities usually give credit to these 
charges without some evidence at least of 
their truth ? ”’ 

‘Ts it denied ? ”’ 

«You are still in possession of your 
senses, Captain Ludlow, and may freely 
use them. But this is an artifice to divert 
pursuit. There are other vessels besides 
the brigantine, and a capricious fair may 
have sought a protector even under a 
pennant of Queen Anne ! ” 

‘This is a truth that has been but too 
obvious to my mind, Mr. Van Beverout,’’ 
observed the sententious Patroon. ‘It 
would have been well to ascertain whether 
she we seek has not taken some less ex- 
ceptionable a course than this, before we 
hastily believe that your niece would so 
easily become the wife of a stranger.”’ 

‘Has Mr. Van Staats any hidden mean- 
ing in his words, that he speaks ambigu- 
ously ?’’ demanded Ludlow. 

“A man, conscious of his good inten- 
tions, has little occasion to speak equivo- 
cally. I believe, with this reputed smug- 
gler, that la belle Barberie would be more 
likely to fly with one she has long known, 
and whom I fear she has but too well 
esteemed, than with an utter stranger, 
over whose life there is cast a shade of so 
dark mystery.” 

‘‘Tf the impression that the lady could 
yield her esteem with too little discretion 
be any excuse for suspicions, then may I 
advise a search in the manor of Kinder- 
hook !”’ 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


have stolen to church to become the bride 
of Oloff Van Staats!’ interrupted the 
Alderman. ‘‘She would have had my 
benediction on the match, and a fat gift 
to give it unction.”’ 


«These suspicions are but natural be- . 
\ 


tween men bent on the same object,’’ re- 
sumed the freetrader. ‘* The officer of the 
Queen thinks a glance of the eye, from a 
willful fair, means admiration of broad 
lands and rich meadows; and the lord of 
the manor distrusts the romance of war- 
like service, and the power of an imagina- 
tion which roams the sea. Still may I 
ask, what is there here to tempt a proud 
and courted beauty to forget station, sex 
and friends ?”’ 

‘‘Caprice and vanity! There is ho 
answering fora woman’smind! Here we 
bring articles, at great risk and heavy 
charges, from the farther Indies to please 
their fancies, and they change their modes 
easier than the beaver casts its coat. Their 
conceits sadly unsettle trade, and I know 
not why they may not cause a willful girl 
to do any other act of folly.” 

‘«‘This reasoning seems conclusive with 
the uncle. Do the suitors assent to its 
justice? 7 

The Patroon of Kinderhook had stood 
gazing, long and earnestly, at the coun- 


tenance of the extraordinary being who 


asked this question. A movement, which 
bespoke equally his conviction and his re- 
gret escaped him, but he continued silent. 
Not so Ludlow. Of a more ardent tem- 


perament, though equally sensible of the — 


temptation which had caused Alida to err, 
and as keenly alive to all the consequences 
to herself, as well as to others, there was 
something of professional rivalry and of 
an official right to investigate, which still 
mingled with his feelings. He had found 
time to examine more closely the articles 
that the cabin contained, and when their 
singular host put his question he pointed, 


with an ironical but mournful smile, to a. 


footstool richly wrought in flowers of 


tints and shades so just as to seem 


natural. 
‘This is no work of a sail-maker’s 


needle !’’ said the Captain of the Coquette. — 
‘Consent and joy! The girl need not | «« Other beauties have been induced to pass — 


4) 


oa 
i 


; 


a 


THE WATEHR-WITCH. 


an idle hour in your gay residence, hardy 
mariner ; but, sooner or later, judgment 
will overtake the light-heeled craft.”’ 
‘On the wind, or off, she must some 
day lag, as we seamen have it! Captain 
Ludlow, I excuse some harshness of con- 
struction that your language might imply; 
for it becomes a commissioned servant of 
the crown to use freedom with one who, 
like the lawless companion of the princely 
Hal, is but too apt to propose to ‘rob me 
the king’s exchequer.’ But, sir, this brig- 
antine and her character are but little 
known to you. We have no need of truant 
damsels to let us into the mystery of the 
sex’s taste; for a female spirit guides all 


our humors, and imparts something of 


her delicacy to all our acts, even though 
it be the fashion among burghers to call 
them lawless. See,’’ throwing a curtain 


 earelessly aside, and exhibiting behind it 


various articles of womanly employment, 
‘‘here are the offspring of both pencil and 
needle. The sorceress,’’ touching the 
mage on his breast, ‘‘ will not be en- 
tertained without some deference to her 
sex.’’ 

‘‘This affair must be arranged, I see, 
by a compromise,’’ observed the Alder- 
man. ‘‘ By your leave, gentlemen, I will 
make proposals in private to this bold 
trader, who, perhaps, will listen to the 
offers I have to propose.’’ 

«* Ah! This savors more of the spirit of 
trade than of that of the sea-goddess I 
serve,’ cried the other, causing his fin- 
gers to run lightly over the strings of 
the guitar. ‘‘ Compromise and offers are 
sounds that become a burgher’s lips. My 
tricksy spirit, commit these gentlemen to 
the care of bold Thomas Tiller, while I 
confer with the merchant. The character 
of Mr. Van Beverout, Captain Ludlow, 
will protect us both from the suspicions of 
any designs on the revenue ! ”’ 

Laughing at his own allusion, the free- 
trader signed. to the boy, who had ap- 
peared from behind a curtain, to show the 
disappointed suitors of la belle Barberie 
into another part of the vessel. 

‘‘Houl tongues and calumnies ! Master 
Seadrift, this unlawful manner of play- 
ing round business, after accounts are 


587 


settled and receipts passed, may lead to 
other loss besides that of character. The © 
commander of the Coquette is not more 
than half satisfied: of my ignorance of 
your misdoingss in behalf of the customs, 
already ; and these jokes are like so many 
punches into a smoldering fire on a dark 
night. They only give light, and cause 
people to see the clearer—though, Heaven 
knows, no man has less reason to dread 
an inquiry into his affairs than myself! I 
challenge the best accountant in the col- 
onies to detect a false footing, or a doubt- 
ful entry in any book I have, from the 
memorandum to the ledger.”’ 

‘“‘The Proverbs are not more senten- 
tious, nor the Psalms half as poetical, as 
your library. But why this secret par- 
ley? The brigantine has a swept hold.” 

‘Swept! Brooms and Van Tromp! 
Thou hast swept the pavilion of my niece 
—of its mistress, no less than my purse 
of its Johannes. This is carrying a little 
innocent barter into a most forbidden com- 
merce, and I hope the joke is to end before 
the affair gets to be sweetening to the tea 
of the Province gossips! Such a tale 
would affect the autumn importation of 
sugars !”’ 

‘‘This is more vivid than clear. You 
have my laces and velvets; my brocades 
and satins are already in the hands of the 
Manhattan dames; and your furs and 
Johannes are safe where no boarding offi- 
cer from the Coquette hi 

«Well, there is no need of speaking- 
trumpets, to tell a man what he knows 
already, to his cost! I should expect no 
less than bankruptcy from two or three 
such bargains, and you wish to add loss 
of character to loss of gold. Bulkheads 
have ears in a ship, as wellas walls in 
houses. L wish no more said of the tri- 
fling traffic that has been between us. If 
L lose a thousand florins by the operation 
I shall know how to be resigned. Patience 
and afflictions! Have I not buried as 
full-fed and promising a gelding this 
morning as ever paced a pavement, and 
has any man heard a complaint from my 
lips? I know how to meet losses, I hope; 
and so no more of an unlucky purchase.”’ 

«Truly, if it be not for trade, there is 


588 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


little in common between the mariners of | luting—but all was rational and gainful 


the brigantine and Alderman Van Beve- 
rout.”’ 

‘‘The greater the necessity thou shouldst 
end this silly joke and restore his niece. I 
am not sure the affair can be at all settled 
with either of these hot-headed young men 
though I should even offer to throw in a 
few thousands more, by way of make- 
weight. When afemale reputation gets a 
bad name in the market, ’tis harder to 
dispose of than falling stock; and your 
young lords of manors and commanders 
of cruisers have stomachs like usurers ; 
no percentage will satisfy them; it must 
be all for nothing. There was no such 
foolery in the days of thy worthy father! 
The honest trafficker brought his cutter 
into port with as innocent a look as a mill- 
boat. We had our discourses on the 
qualities of his wares, when here was his 
price, and there was my gold. Odd or 
even! It was all a chance which had the 
best of the bargain. I was a thriving 
man in those days, Master Seadrift ; but 
thy spirit seems the spirit of extortion 
itself !’’ 

There was momentarily contempt on the 
lip of the handsome smuggler, but it dis- 
appeared in an expression of evident and 
painful sadness. 

‘Thou hast softened my heart ere now, 
most liberal burgher,’’ he answered, ‘‘ by 
these allusions to my parent; and many is 
the doubloon that I have paid for his eulo- 
gies.” 

‘“‘T speak as disinterestedly as a parson 
preaches! What is a trifle of gold be- 
tween friends? Yes, there was happiness 
in trade during the time of thy prede- 
cessor. He had a comely and a deceptive 
craft, that might be likened to an un- 
trimmed racer. There was motion in it, 
at need, and yet it had the air of a leis- 
urely Amsterdammer. I have known an 
exchequer cruiser hail him, and ask the 
news of the famous freetrader, with as 
little suspicion as he would have in speak- 
ing the Lord High-Admiral. 
no fooleries in his time ; no unseemly hus- 
sies stuck under his bowsprit, to put an 
honest man out of countenance ; no high- 
flyers in sail and paint; no singing and 


There were |. 


barter. Then he was a man to ballast 
his boat with something valuable. Ihave 
known him to throw in fifty ankers of 
gin, without a farthing for freight, when 
a bargain has been struck for the finer 
articles—aye, and finish by landing them 
in Hngland, for a small premium, when 
the gift was made! ”’ 

‘‘He deserves thy praise, grateful Al- 
derman; but to what conclusion does this 
opening ond Pan 

‘Well, if more gold Pane pass between 
us,’’ continued the reluctant Myndert, 
‘‘we shall not waste time in counting it ; 
though, Heaven knows, Master Seadrift, 
thou hast already drained me dry. 
Losses have fallen heavy on me of late. 
There is a gelding dead, that fifty Holland 
ducats will not replace on the boom-key 
of Rotterdam, to say nothing of freight 
and Chee which come _ particularly 
heavy 

‘Speak to thy offer !’’ inter the 
other, who evidently wished to shorten 
the interview. 

‘Restore the girl, and take five-and- 
twenty thin pieces.’’ 

‘‘Half-price fora Flemish gelding! La 
Belle would blush with honest pride did 
she know her value in the market.”’ 

‘‘Extortion and bowels of compassion ! 
Let it be a hundred, and no farther words 
between us.”’ 

‘* Hearkee, Mr. Van Beverout: that I 
sometimes trespass on the Queen’s earn- 
ings is not to be denied, and least of all to 
you; for I like neither this manner of rul-— 
ing a nation by deputy, nor the principle 
which says one bit of earth is to make 
laws for another. ’Tis not my humor, 
sir, to wear an English cotton when my 
taste is for the Florentine ; nor to swallow 
beer, when I more relish the delicate wines 
of Gascony. Beyond this, thou knowest 
Ido not trifle, even with fancied rights ; 
and had I fifty of thy nieces, sacks of 
ducats should not purchase one !”’ 

The Alderman started in a manner that 
might have induced a spectator to believe 
he was listening to an incomprehensible 
proposition. Still his companion spoke 
with a warmth that gave him no small 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


589 


reason to believe he uttered no more than | Patroon were held in discourse on the 


he felt, and, inexplicable as it might prove, 
that he valued treasure less than feeling. 

‘‘Obstinacy and extravagance!’ mut- 
tered Myndert; ‘‘ what use can a trouble- 
some girl be to one of thy habits? If thou 
hast deluded——”’ 

«‘T have deluded none. The brigantine is 
not an Algerine to ask and take ransom.”’ 

‘Then let it submit to what I believe it 
is yet astranger. If thou hast not enticed 
my niece away by, Heaven knows, a most 
vain delusion, let the vessel be searched. 
This will make the minds of the young 
men tranquil, and keep the treaty open 
between us, and the value of the article 
fixed in the market.”’ 

‘‘Freely ; but mark! If certain bales 
containing worthless furs of martens and 
' beavers with other articles of thy colony 
trade should discover the character of my 
correspondents, I stand exonerated of all 
breach of faith.’’ 

««There is prudence in that. Yes, there 
must be no impertinent eyes peeping into 
bales and packages. Well, I see, Master 
Seadrift, the impossibility of immediately 
coming to an understanding ; and there- 
fore, I will quit thy vessel, for truly a 
merchant of reputation should have no 
unnecessary connection with one so sus- 
pected. 

The freetrader smiled, partly in scorn, 
and yet much in sadness, and passed his 
fingers over the string of the guitar. 

‘‘«Show this worthy burgher to his 
friend, Zephyr,’’ he said; and, bowing to 
the Alderman, he dismissed him in a man- 
ner that betrayed a singular compound of 
feeling. One quick to discover the traces 
of human passion might have fancied that 
regret and even sorrow were blended with 
the natural or assumed recklessness of the 
smugegiler’s air and language. 


—— 


CHAPTER XVI. 


“This will prove a brave kingdom to me; 
Where I shall have my music for nothing.”’ © 
—TEMPEST. 


DURING the time passed in the secret 
conference of the cabin, Ludlow and the 


quarter-deck by the hero of the India- 
shawl. The dialogue was professional, as 
Van Staats maintained his ancient reputa- 
tion for taciturnity. The appearance of 
Myndert, thoughtful, disappointed, and 
most evidently perplexed, caused the 
ideas of all to take a new direction. It 
is probable that the burgher believed he 
had not yet bid enough to tempt the free- 
trader to restore his niece ; for by his air 
it was apparent his mind was far from 
being satisfied that she was not in the 
vessel. Still, when questioned by his com- 
panions concerning the result of his inter- 
view with the freetrader, for reasons best 
understood by himself, he was fain to an- 
swer evasively. 

‘Of one thing rest satisfied,’’ he said ; 
‘‘the misconception in this affair will yet 
be explained, and Alida Barberie return 
unfettered, and with a character as free 
from blemish as the credit of the Van 
Stoppers of Holland. The fanciful-look- 
ing person in the cabin denies that my 
niece is here, and I am inclined to think 
that the balance of truth is on his side. I 
confess, if one could just look into the 
cabin, without the trouble of rummaging 
lockers and cargo, the statement would 
give more satisfaction ; but—hem—gen- 
tlemen, we must take the assertion on 
credit, for want of more sufficient secur- 
ity? 

Ludlow looked at the cloud above the 
mouth of the Raritan, and his lip curled 
ina smile. ‘‘ Let the wind hold here, at 
east,’’ he said, ‘‘and we shall act our 
pleasure with both lockers and cabins.”’ 

«Hist ! the worthy Master Tiller may 
overhear this threat; after all, I do not 
know whether prudence does not tell us. 
to let the brigantine depart.”’ 

‘“Mr. Alderman Van Beverout,’’ re- 
joined the Captain, whose cheek had red- 
dened toa glow, ‘“‘my duty must not be 
gauged by your affection for your niece. 
Though content that. Alida Barberie 
should quit the country, like an article of 
vulgar commerce, the commander of this 
vessel must get a passport of Her Maj- 
esty’s cruiser ere she again enter the high 
sea.”’ 


590 WORKS 


«Wilt say as much to the sea-green 
lady ?”’? asked the mariner of the shawl, 
suddenly appearing at his elbow. 

The question was so unexpected and so 
strange that it caused an involuntary 
start; but, recovering his recollection on 
the instant, the young sailor haughtily 
replied— 

“Or to any other monster thou canst 
conjure.”’ 

‘“We will take you at the word. There 
is no more certain method of knowing the 
past or the future, the quarter of the 
heavens from which the winds are to 
come, or the season of the hurricanes than 
by putting a question to our mistress. 
She who knows so much of hidden matters 
may tell us what you wish to know. We 
will have her called by the usual sum- 
mons.”’ 

Thus saying, the mariner of the shawl 
gravely quitted his guests, and descended 
into the inferior cabins of the vessel. It 
was but a moment before there arose 
sounds from some secret though not dis- 
tant quarter of the brigantine, that 
caused, in some measure, both surprise 
and pleasure to Ludlow and the Patroon. 
Their companion had his motives for being 
insensible to either of these emotions. 

After a short and rapid symphony, a 
wind-instrument took up a wild strain, 
while a human voice was again heard, 
chanting to the music words which were 
so much involved by the composition of 
the air as to render it impossible to trace 
more than that their burden was a sort 
of mysterious incantation of some ocean 
deity. 

‘‘Squeaking and _ flutes grumbled 
Myndert, ere the last sounds were fairly 
ended. ‘This is downright heathenish ; 
and a plain-dealing man, who does busi- 
ness aboveboard, has good reason to wish 
himself honestly at church. What have 
we to do with land-witches, or water- 
witches, or any other witchcraft, that we 
stay in the brigantine, now it is known 
that my niece is not to be found aboard 
her:; and, moreover, even admitting that 
we were disposed to traffic, the craft has 
nothing iin her that a man in Manhattan 
should want. The deepest bog of thy 


19 


OF FENIMORE 


Pe a teal 
¥ 


COOPER. 


manor, Patroon, is safer ground to tread 
on than the deck of a vessel that has got 
a reputation like that of this craft.”’ 

The scenes of which he was a witness 
had produced their effect on Van Staats 
of Kinderhook. Of a slow imagination 
but of a powerful and vast frame, he was 
not easily excited, either to indulge in 
fanciful images, or to suffer personal ap- 
prehension. Only a few years had passed 
since men, who in other respects were 
enlightened, firmly believed in the exist- 
ence of supernatural agencies in the con- 
trol of the affairs of this life; and though 
the New Netherlanders had escaped the 
infatuation which prevailed so generally 
in the religious provinces of New England, 
a credulous superstition, of a less active 
quality, possessed the minds of the most 
intelligent of the Dutch colonists, and 
even of their descendants so lately as in 
our own times. The art of divination 
was particularly in favor; and it rarely 
happened, that any inexplicable event 
affected the fortunes or comforts of the 
good provincialists without their having 
recourse to some one of the more re- 
nowned fortune-tellers of the country, for 
an explanation. Men of slow faculties love 
strong excitement, because they are in- 
sensible to less powerful impulses, as men 
of hard heads find most enjoyment in 
strong liquors. The Patroon was alto- 
gether of the sluggish cast; and to him 
there was consequently a secret but deep 
pleasure in his present situation. 

“What important results may flow 
from this adventure, we know not, Mr. 
Alderman Van Beverout,’’ returned Oloff 
Van Staats; ‘‘and I confess a desire to 
see and hear more before we land. This 
Skimmer of the Seas is altogether a dif- 
ferent man from what our rumors in the 
city have reported; and, by remaining, 
we may set public opinion nearer to the 
truth. I have heard my late venerable 
aunt——’ | 

‘‘Chimney-corners and traditions ! The 
good lady was no bad customer of these 
gentry, Patroon: and it is lucky that 
they got no more of thy inheritance, in 
the way of fees. You see the Lust in 
Rust against the mountain there; well, 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


all that is meant for the public is on the 
outside, and all that is intended for my 
own private gratification is kept within 
doors. But here is Captain Ludlow, who 
has matters of the Queen on his hands, 
and the gentleman will find it disloyal to 
waste the moments in this juggiling.”’ 

‘‘T confess the same desire to witness 
the end,’’ dryly returned the commander 
of the Coquette. <‘‘The state of the wind 
prevents any immediate change in the 
positions of the two vessels; and why not 
get a farther insight into the extraordi- 


nary character of those who belong to: 


the brigantine ? ”’ 

«« Aye, there itis!’’ muttered the der 
man between his teeth. ‘‘ Your insights 
and outsights lead to all the troubles of 
life. One is never snug with these fan- 
tastics, which trifle with a secret, like a 
fly fluttering round a candle, until his 
wings get burned.”’ , 

As his companions seemed resolved to 
stay, however, there remained no alterna- 
tive for the burgher but patience. AI- 
though apprehension of some indiscreet 
exposure was certainly the feeling upper- 
most in his mind, he was not entirely 
without some of the weakness which 
caused Oloff Van Staats to listen and to 
gaze with so much obvious interest and 
secret awe. Even Ludlow, himself, felt 
more affected than he would have willingly 
owned, by the extraordinary situation in 
which he was placed. No man is entirely 
insensible to the influence of sympathy, let 
it exert its powers in what manner it will. 
Of this the young sailor was the more 
conscious through the effect that was pro- 
duced on himself by the grave exterior 
and attentive manner of all the mariners 
of the brigantine. He was a seaman of 
no mean accomplishments; and, among 
other attainments that properly distin- 
guish men of his profession, he had learned 
to know the country of a sailor by those 
general and distinctive marks which form 
the principal difference between men whose 
common pursuit has in so great a degree 
created a common character. 

Intelligence, at that day, was confined 
to narrow limits among those who dwelt 
on the ocean. Even the officer was but 


591 


too apt to be one of rude and boisterous 
manners, of limited acquirements, and of 
deep and obstinate prejudices. No won- 
der, then, that the common man was, in 
general, ignorant of most of those opin- 
ions which gradually enlighten society. 
Ludlow had seen, on entering the vessel, 
that her crew was composed of men of 
different countries. Age and personal 
character seemed to have been more con- 
sulted, in their selection, than national 
distinctions. There was a Finlander, with 
a credulous and oval physiognomy, sturdy 
but short frame, and a light, vacant eye ; 
and a dark-skinned seaman of the Medi- 
terranean, whose classical outline of feat- 
ure was often disturbed by uneasy and. 
sensitive glances at the horizon. These: 
two men had coine and placed themselves 
near the group on the quarter-deck, when 
the last music was heard; and Ludlow 
had ascribed the circumstance to a sensi- 
bility to melody, when the child Zephyr 
stole to their side, in a manner to show 
that more was meant by the movement 
than was apparent in the action itself. 
The appearance of Tiller, who invited the. 
party to re-enter the cabin explained its. 
meaning, by showing that these men, like: 
themselves, had business with the being,. 
who, it was pretended, had so great an 
agency in controlling the fortunes of the 
brigantine. 

The party, who now passed into the 
little anteroom, was governed by very 
different sensations. The curiosity of Lud- 
low was lively, fearless, and a little min- 
gled with an interest that might be termed 
professional; while that of his two com- 
panions was not without some inward 
reverence for the mysterious power of the 
sorceress. The two seamen manifested 
dull dependence, while the boy exhibited, 
in his ingenuous and half terrified counte- 
nance, most unequivocally the influence of 
childish awe. The mariner of the shawl 
was grave, silent, and, what was unusual, 
in his deportment respectful. After a 
moment’s delay, the door of the inner 
apartment was opened by Seadrift himself, 
and he signed for the whole to enter. 

A material change had been made in the 
arrangement of the principal cabin. The 


592 WORKS 


light was entirely excluded from the stern, 
and the crimson curtain had been lowered 
before the alcove. A small window, whose 


effect was to throw a dim obscurity within, 
had been opened in the side. 


soft coloring from the hues of the hang- 
ings. 

The freetrader received his guests with 
a chastened air, bowing silently, and with 
less of levity in his mien than in the former 
interview. Still Ludlow thought there 
lingered a forced but sad smile about his 
handsome mouth ; and the Patroon gazed 
at his fine features with the admiration 
that one might feel for the most favored 
of those who were believed to minister at 
some supernatural shrine. The feelings 
of the Alderman were exhibited only by 
some half-suppressed murmurs of discon- 
tent, that from time to time escaped him, 
notwithstanding a certain degree of rever- 
ence, that was gradually prevailing over 
his ill-concealed dissatisfaction. 

“They tell me you would speak with 
our mistress,’’ said the principal person- 
age of the vessel, in a subdued voice. 
‘There are others, too, it would seem, 
who wish to seek counsel from her wis- 
dom. It is now many months since we 
have had direct converse with her, though 
the book is ever open to all applicants for 
knowledge. You have nerves for the 
meeting ? ”’ 

‘“Her Majesty’s enemies have never re- 
proached me with their want,’ returned 
Ludlow, smiling incredulously. ‘‘ Proceed 
with your incantations that we may know.”’ 

“We are not necromancers, sir, but 
faithful mariners, who do their mistress’s 
pleasure. I know that you are sceptical ; 
but bolder men have confessed their mis- 
takes with less testimony. Hist! we are 
not alone. I hear the opening and shut- 
ting of the brigantine’s transoms.”’ 

The speaker then fell back nearly to 
the line in which the others had ranged 
themselves, and awaited the result in 
silence. The curtain rose to a low air on 
the same wind instrument ; and even’ Lud- 
low felt an emotion more powerful than 
interest, as he gazed on the object that 
was revealed to view. 


The objects 
on which its light fell strongest received a 


fabric in which they dwell. 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


A female form attired, as near as might 
be, like the figure-head of the vessel, and 
standing in a similar attitude, occupied 
the center of the alcove. As in the im- 
age, one hand held a book with its page 
turned toward the spectators, while a 
finger of the other pointed ahead, as if 
giving to the brigantine its course. The 
Sea-green drapery was floating behind as 
if it felt the influence of the air; and the 
face had the same dark and unearthly 
hue, with its malign and remarkable 
smile. 

When the start and the first gaze of 
astonishment were over the Alderman 
and his companion glanced their eyes at 
each other in wonder. The smile in the 
look of the freetrader became less hidden, 
and it partook of triumph. 

“Tf any here has aught to say to the 
lady of our bark, let him now declare it. 
She has come far, at our call, and will not 
tarry long.’’ 

“‘T would then know,’’ said Ludlow, 
drawing a heavy -breath, like one recover- 
ing from some sudden and powerful sensa- 
tion, ‘‘if she I seek be within the brigan- 
tine ? ’’ 

He who acted the part of mediator in 
this extraordinary ceremony, bowed and 
advanced to the book, which, with an air 
of deep reverence, he consulted, reading, 
or appearing to read, from its pages. 

‘* You are asked here, in return for that 
you inquire, if she you seek is sought in 
sincerity ? ”’ 

Ludlow reddened ; the manliness of the 
profession to which he belonged, however, 
overcame the reluctance natural to self- 
esteem ; and he answered, firmly— 

“« She is.”’ 

‘But you are a mariner; men of the 
Sea place their affections, often, on the 
Is the attach- 
ment for her whom you seek stronger 
than love of wandering, of your ship, your 
youthful expectations, and the glory that 
forms a young soldier’s dreams ? ” 

The commander of the Coquette hesi- 
tated. After a moment of pause, like that 
of self-examination, he said— 

‘* As much so as may become a man.” 

A cloud crossed the brow of his inter- 


F 
q 
( 
- 


‘What means this,”’ said Ludlow, hastily : 


***She, Claudio, that you wronged, look you restore; 
Love her, Angelo; 
I have confessed her, and I know her virtue.’ ” 


—The Water Witch. 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


rogator, who advanced and again con- 
sulted the pages of the book. 

‘«*You are required to say, if a recent 
event has not disturbed your confidence in 
her you seek ? ”’ 

<« Disturbed—but not destroyed.”’ 

The sea-green lady moved, and the 
pages of the mysterious volume trembled, 
as if eager to deliver their oracles. 

<< And could you repress curiosity, pride, 
and all the other sentiments of your sex, 
and seek her favor, without asking expla- 
nation, as before the occurrence of late 
events ? ”’ 

“*T would do much to gain a kind look 
from Alida de Barberie; but the degraded 
spirit, of which you speak, would render 
me unworthy of her esteem. If I found 
her as I lost her, my life should be devoted 
to her happiness; if not, to mourning that 
one so fair should have fallen! ”’ 

«© Have you ever felt jealousy ?”’ 

«‘ Hirst let me know if I have cause 
cried the young man, advancing a step 
toward the motionless form, with an 
evident intent to look closer into its 
character. 

The hand of the mariner of the shawl 
arrested him with the strength of a giant. 

‘‘None trespass on the respect due our 
mistress,’ coolly observed the vigorous 
seaman, while he motioned to the other 
to retreat. 

A fierce glance shot from his eye; and 
then the recollection of his present help- 
lessness came, in season, to restrain the 
resentment of the offended officer. 

‘“‘Have you ever felt jealousy ?’’ con- 
tinued his undisturbed interrogator. 

‘*Would any love that had not? ”’ 

A gentle respiration was heard in the 
cabin, during the short pause that suc- 
ceeded, though none could tell whence it 
came. The Alderman turned to regard 
the Patroon, as if he believed the sigh was 
his; while the startled Ludlow looked 
curiously around him, at a loss to know 
who acknowledged, with so much sensi- 
bility, the truth of his reply. 

«Your answers are well,’’ resumed the 
freetrader, after a pause longer than us- 
ual. Then, turning to Oloff Van Staats, 
he said, ‘‘ Whom, or what, do you seek ? ”’ 


{? 


593 


‘We come on a common errand.”’ 

«¢ And do you seek in all sincerity ? ”’ 

‘*] could wish to find.”’ 

“You are rich in lands and houses; 
is she you seek dear to you as this 
wealth ? ”’ 

*“T esteem them both, since one could 
not wish to tie a woman he admired to 
beggary.’’ 

The Alderman hemmed so loud as to fill 
the cabin, and then, startled at his own 
interruption, he involuntarily bowed an 
apology to the motionless form in the al- 
cove, and regained his composure. 

“‘There is more of prudence than of ar- 
dor in your answer. Have you ever felt 
jealousy ? ”’ 

“That has he!’’ eagerly exclaimed 
Myndert. ‘‘Il’ve known the gentleman 
raving as a bear that has lost its cub, 
when my niece has smiled, in church, for 
instance, though it were only in answer to 
a nod from an old lady. Philosophy and 
composure, Patroon! Who the devil 
knows but Alida may hear of this ques- 
tioning ? and then her French blood will 
boil, to find that your love has always 
gone as regularly as a town clock.’’ 

‘*Could you receive her without inquir- 
ing into past events ?”’ 

«That would he—that would he!”’ re- 
turned the Alderman. ‘‘ I answer for it, 
that Mr. Van Staats complies with all 
engagements as punctually as the best 
house in Amsterdam itself.’’ 

The book again trembled, but it was 
with a waving and dissatisfied motion. 

‘«¢ What is thy will with our mistress ? ”’ 
demanded the freetrader, of the fair- 
haired sailor. 

‘| have bargained with some of the 
dealers of my country for a wind to carry 
the brigantine through the inlet.”’ 

‘“Go. The Water- Witch will sail when 
there is need ; and you?”’ 

‘¢T wish to know whether a few skins 
I bought last night, for a private venture, 
will turn to good account ? ”’ 

‘<‘Trust the sea-green lady for your 
profits. When did she ever let any fail in 
a bargain! Child, what has brought thee 
hither ? ”’ 

The boy trembled, and a little time 


594 


elapsed before he found resolution to 
answer. 

‘“They tell me it is so queer to be upon 
the Jand !”’ 

‘‘Sirrah! thou hast been answered. 
When others go, thou shalt go with them.’ 

“They say *tis pleasant to taste the 
fruits from off the very trees——”’ 

“‘Thou art answered. Gentlemen, our 
mistress departs. She knows that one 
among you has threatened her favorite 
brigantine with the anger of an earthly 
queen; butit is beneath her office to reply 
to threats so idle. Hark! her attendants 
are in waiting.”’ 

The wind instrument was once more 
heard, and the curtain slowly fell to its 
strains. A sudden and violent noise, re- 
sembling the opening and shutting of 
some massive door, succeeded—then all 
was still. When the sorceress had disap- 
peared, the freetrader resumed his former 
ease of manner, seeming to speak and act 
more naturally. Alderman Van Beverout 
drew a long breath, like one relieved ; and 
even the mariner of the gay shawl stood 
in an easier and more reckless attitude 
than while in her presence. The two sea- 
men and the child withdrew. 

“*Rew who wear that livery have ever 
before seen the lady of our brigantine,’’ 
continued the freetrader, addressing him- 
self to Ludlow; ‘‘ and it is proof that she 
has less aversion to your cruiser than she 
in common feels to most of the long pen- 
nants that are abroad on the water.”’ 

‘“Thy mistress, thy vessel, and thyself, 
are alike amusing !’’ returned the young 
seaman, again smiling incredulously, and 
with some little official pride. ‘‘ It will be 
well if you maintain this pleasantry much 
longer, at the expense of her Majesty’s 
customs.” 

«We trust to the power of the Water- 
Witch. She has adopted our brigantine 
as her abode,: given it her name, and 
guides it with her hand. ’*Twould be weak 
to doubt, when thus protected.”’ 

««There may be occasion to try her vir- 
tues. Were she a spirit of the deep 
waters, her robe would be blue. Noth- 
ing of a hght draught can escape the 
Coquette !”’ 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


minister. ihe 


BS 


‘Dost not know that the color of the 
sea differs in different climes? We fear 
not, but you would have answers to your 
questions, Honest Tiller will carry you 
all to the land, and, in passing, the book 
may again be consulted. JI doubt not she — 
will leave us some farther memorial of her _ 
visit.”’ ae 

The freetrader then bowed, and retired © 
behind the curtain, with the air of a sov-_ 
ereign dismissing his visitors from an au- 
dience ; though his eye glanced curiously 
behind him, as he disappeared, as if to — 
trace the effect which had been produced — 
by the interview. Alderman Van Beve- 
rout and his friends were in the boatagain, — 
before a syllable was exchanged between ; 
them. They had followed the mariner of — 
the shawl, in obedience to his signal; and — 
they quitted the side of the beautiful brig- — 
antine, like men who pondered on what — 
they had just witnessed. F 

Enough has been betrayed, in the course — 
of the narrative, perhaps, to show that r 
Ludlow distrusted, though he could not — 
avoid wondering at what he had seen. 
He was not entirely free from the super-— 
stition that was then so common among 
seamen ; but his education and native good 
sense enabled him ina great measuxe to — 
extricate his imagination from that love — 
of the marvelous which is more or less — 
common to all. He had fifty conjectures — 
concerning the meaning of what had 
passed, and not one of them was true; 
though each, at the instant, seemed to- 
appease his curiosity, while it quickened — 
his resolution to pry farther into the af- 
fair. As for the Patroon of Kinderhook, 
the present day was one of rare and un-— 
equaled pleasure. He had all the grat-— 
ification which strong excitement can 
produce in slow natures; and he neither 
wished a solution of his doubts, nor con- 
templated any investigation that might de- 
stroy so agreeable an illusion. His fancy 
was full of the dark countenance of the 
sorceress ; and when it did not dwell on y 
subject so unnatural, it saw the handsome 
features, ambiguous smile, and attract- 
ive air, of her scarcely less admirable 


As the boat got to a little distance f on 


THE WATEHR-WITCH. 


595 


the vessel, Tiller stood erect, and ran his | ‘‘I have a motion much imports your good ; 


eye complacently over the perfection of 
her hull and rigging. 

‘““Qur mistress has equipped and sent 
upon the wide and unbeaten sea many a 
bark,’’ he said; ‘‘ but never a lovelier 
than our own! Captain Ludlow, there 
has been some double-dealing between us ; 
but that which is to follow shall depend 
on our skill, our seamanship, and our heels. 
You serve Queen Anne, and I the sea- 
green lady. Let each be true to his mis- 
tress, and Heaven preserve the deserv- 
ing! Wilt see the book before we make 
the trial? ”’ 

Ludlow intimated his assent, and the 
boat approached the figure-head. It was 
impossible to prevent the feeling which 
each of our three adventurers, not ex- 
cepting the Alderman, felt when they 
came in full view of the motionless image. 
The mysterious countenance appeared en- 
dowed with thought, and the malign smile 
seemed more ironical than before. 

«The first question was yours, and yours 
must be the first answered,’’ said Tiller, 
motioning for Ludlow to consult the page 
which was open. ‘‘Our mistress deals 
chiefly in verses from the old writer whose 
thoughts are almost as common to us all 
as to human nature.”’ 

“What means this?’’ said Ludlow, 
hastily : 

*« «She, Claudio, that you wronged, look you restore ; 
Love her, Angelo; 

I have confessed her, and I know her virtue.’ ”’ 

‘These are plain words; but I would 
rather that another priest should shrive 
ther whom I love !”’ 

*‘ Hist! Young blood is swift and quick- 
ly heated. Our lady of the bark will not 
‘relish hot speech over her oracles. Come, 
Master Patroon, turn the page with the 
rattan, and see what fortune will give.’’ 

Oloff Van Staats raised his powerful 
arm, with the hesitation, and yet with 
‘the curiosity of a girl. It was easy to 
read in his eye the pleasure his heavy 
nature felt in the excitement; yet it Was 
-easy to detect the misgivings of an erro- 
- neous education, by the seriousness of all 
the other members of his countenance. 
He read aloud : 


Whereto, if you’ll a willing ear incline, 

What’s mine is yours, and what is yours is mine. 

So bring us to vur palace, where we’ll show | 

What’s yet behind, that’s meet you all should 
know.”’ —Measure for Measure. 

“Fair dealing, and fairer speech} 
‘ What’s yours is mine, and what is mine 
is yours,’ is Measure for Measure, truly, 
Patroon,’’ cried the Aiderman. ‘“ A more 
equitable bargain cannot be made, when 
the assets are of equal value. Here is 
encouragement in good sooth; and now, 
Master Mariner, we will land and proceed 
to the Lust in Rust, which must be the 
place meant in the verses. ‘ What’s yet 
behind,’ must be Alida, the tormenting 
baggage! who has been playing hide-and- 
seek with us, for no other reason than to 
satisfy her womanish vanity, by showing 
how uncomfortable she could make three 
grave and responsible men. Let the boat 
go, Master Tiller, since that is thy name ; 
and many thanks for thy civilities.”’ 

«’T would give grave offense to leave 
the lady, without knowing all she has to 
say. The answer now concerns you, 
worthy Alderman, and the rattan will do 
its turn, in your hand, as well as in that 
of another.”’ 

‘‘T despise a pitiful curiosity, and con- 
tent myself with knowing what chance 
and good luck teach,’’ returned Myndert. 
«‘There are men in Manhattan ever prying 
into their neighbors’ credit, like frogs 
lying with their noses out of water; but it 
is enough for me to know the state of 
my books, with some insight into that of 
the market.’’ 

“It will notdo. This may appease a 
quiet conscience, like your own, sir; but 
we of the brigantine may not trifle with 
our mistress. One touch of the rattan 
will tell you whether these visits to the 
Water- Witch are likely to prove to your 
advantage.”’ 

Myndert wavered. It has been said 
that, like most others of his origin in the 


colony, he had a secret leaning to the art 


of divination ; and the words of the hero 
of the shawl contained flattering allusion 
to the profits of his secret commerce. He 
took the offered stick, and, by the time 
the page was turned, his eyes were ready 


596 


enough to consult its contents. There 
was but a line, which was also quoted as 
coming from the well-known comedy of 
“‘ Measure for Measure.’’ 

** Proclaim it, provost, round about the city.” 

In his eagerness, Myndert read the 
oracle aloud; then he sank into his seat, 
affecting to laugh at the whole as a 
childish and vain conceit. 

‘Proclamation me no proclamations ! 
Is it a time of hostilities, or of public dan- 
ger, that one should go shouting with his 
tidings through the streets? Measure for 
Measure, truly! Harkee, Master Tiller, 
this sea-green trull of thine is no better 
than she should be; and, unless she mend 
her manner of dealing, no honest man will 
be found willing to be seen in her company. 
Iam no believer in necromancy—though 
the inlet has certainly opened this year 
altogether in an unusual manner—and 
therefore I put little faith in her words; 
but as for saying aught of me and mine, 
in town or country, Holland or America, 
that can shake my credit, why, I defy 
her! Still, I would not willingly have 
any idle stories to contradict; and I shall 
conclude by saying you will do well to 
stop her mouth.”’ 

“Stop a hurricane, or a_ tornado! 
Truth will come in her book, and he that 
reads must expect to see it. Captain 
Ludlow, you are master of your move- 
ments again; for the inlet is no longer 
between you and your cruiser. Behind 
yon hillock is the boat and crew you 
missed. The latter expect you. And now, 
gentlemen, we leave the rest to the green 
lady’s guidance, our own good skill, and 
the winds! I salute you.”’ 

The moment his companions were on the 
shore, the hero of the shawl caused his 
boat to quit it; and, in less than five min- 
utes, it was swinging by its tackles at the 
stern of the brigantine. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


“Like Arion on the dolphin’s back, 
Isaw him hold acquaintance with the waves, 
So long as I could see.””—TEMPEST. 
THERE was one curious but half-con- 
founded observer of all that passed in and 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


around the Cove on the morning in ques- 
tion. This personage was no other than - 
the slave called Bonnie, who was the fac- 
totum of his master, over the demesnes of 
the Lust in Rust, during the time when 
the presence of the Alderman was required 
in the city ; which was, in truth, at least 
four-fifths of the year. Responsibility and 
confidence had produced their effect on this — 
negro, aS on more cultivated minds. He 
had been used to act in situations of care; — 
and practice had produced a habit of vigil- 
ance and observation that was not common 
in men of his unfortunate condition. There : 
is no moral truth more certain than that — 
men, when once accustomed to this species — 
of domination, as readily submit their 
minds as their bodies to the control of 
others. Thus it is that we see entire 
nations maintaining so many erroneous — 
maxims, merely because it has suited the 
interests of those who do the thinking to — 
give forth these fallacies to their followers. — 
Fortunately, however, for the improve-— 
ment of the race and the advancement of — 
truth, it is only necessary to give a man 
an opportunity to exercise his natural — 
faculties in order to make him a reflecting 
and, insome degree, an independent being. — 
Such, though to a very limited extent, cer- 
tainly, had been the consequence in the in- — 
stance of the slave just mentioned. 

How far Bonnie had been concerned in 
the proceedings between his master and — 
the mariners of the brigantine it is un- 
necessary to say. Little passed at the © 
villa of which he was ignorant; and as — 
curiosity, once awakened, increases its 
own desire for indulgence, could he have 
had his wish, little would have passed — 
anywhere near him, without his knowing 
something of its nature and import. He 
had seen, while seemingly employed with — 
his hoe in the garden of the Alderman, ‘ 
the trio conveyed by Erasmus across the — 
inlet; had watched the manner in which — 
they followed its margin to the shade of 
the oak, and had seen them enter the 
brigantine, as related. That this extra-— 
ordinary visit on board a vessel which 
was in common shrouded by so much 
mystery had given rise to much and un 
usual reflection in the mind of the black, 


THE 


WATER-IWITCH. 


| 597 


was apparent by the manner in which he | those whose duty it was to protect the 


so often paused in his labor, and stood 
leaning on the handle of his hoe. He had 
never known his master so far overstep 
his usual caution as to quit the dwelling, 
during the occasional visits of the free- 
trader; yet he had now gone as it were 
into the very jaws of the lion, accompanied 
by the commander of a royal cruiser. No 
wonder, then, that the vigilance of the 
negro became still more active, and that 
not even the slightest circumstance was 
suffered to escape his admiring eye. Dur- 
ing the whole time consumed by the visit 
related in the preceding chapter, not a 
minute had been suffered to pass without 
an inquiring look in the direction either of 
the brigantine or the adjacent shore. 

It is scarcely necessary to say how keen 
the attention of the slave became, when 
his master and his companions were seen 
to return to the land. They immediately 
ascended to the foot of the oak, where 
there was a long and apparently a serious 
conference between them. During this con- 
sultation, the negro suffered his gaze, for 
an instant, to alter its direction. Indeed he 
scarcely drew breath, until the whole 
party quitted the spot together and buried 
themselves in the thicket that covered 
the cape, taking the direction of its outer 
or northern extremity, instead of retiring 
by the shore of the Cove, toward the in- 
let. Then Bonnie respired heavily, and 
began to look about him at the other ob- 
jects that properly belonged to the interest 
of the scene. 

The brigantine had run up her boat, 
and she now lay, as when first seen, a 
motionless, beautiful and exquisitely grace- 
ful fabric, without the smallest sign about 
her of an intention to move, or indeed 
without exhibiting any other proof, except 
in her admirable order and symmetry, 
that any of human powers dwelt within 
her hull. The royal crusier, though lar- 
ger and of far less aerial mold and fash- 
ion, presented the same picture of repose. 
The distance between the two was about 
a league; and Bonnie was _ sufficiently 
familiar with the formation of the land 
and the position of the vessels to be quite 
aware that this inactivity on the part of 


rights of the Queen proceeded from their 
utter ignorance of the proximity of their 
neighbor. Thethicket which bounded the 
Cove, and the growth of oaks and pines 
that stretched along the narrow, sandy 
spit of land quite to its extremity, suffi- 
ciently accounted for the fact. The negro, 
therefore, after gazing for several minutes 
at the two immovable vessels, turned 
his eye askance on the earth, shook his 
head, and burst into a laugh, which was so 
noisy that it caused his sable partner to 
thrust her vacant and circular countenance 
through an open window of the scullery of 
the villa, to demand the reason of a mer- 
riment that to her faithful feelings ap- 
peared to be a little unsocial. 

‘‘Hey ! you alway’ keep ’e queer t’inge 
to heself, Bonnie !’’ cried the vixen, “ I’m 
werry glad to see old bones like a hoe; 
an’ I wonner dere ar’ time to laugh, wid’e 
garden full of weed ! ” : 

‘““Grach !’’ exclaimed the negro, 
stretching out an arm in a forensie 
attitude; ‘‘what a black woman know 
of politic! If ahab time to talk, better 
cook a dinner. Tell one t’ing, Phyllis, 
and that be dis: vy’e ship of Captain 
Ludlow no lif’e anchor, an’ come take 
dis rogue in ’e Cove? cana tell dat 
much, or no?—if not, let a man who 
understan’ heself laugh much as he like. 


‘A little fun no harm Queen Anne nor 


kill ’e gubbenor !”’ 

‘¢ All work and no sleep make old bones 
ache, Bonnie, but !’’ returned the consort, 
‘ten o’clock—twelve o’clock—tree o’clock, 
and no bed ; vell I see ’e sun afore a black 
fool put ’e head on a pillow! An’ nowa 
hoe go all ’e same as if he sleep a ten 
hour. Masser Myn’ert gota heart, and he 
no wish to kill he people wid work, or old 
Phyllis war dead fifty years next winter.”’ 

‘¢T t’ink a wench’s tongue nebber sat- 
isfy. What for tell a whole world when 
Bonnie go to bed? He sleep for heself, 
and he no sleep for ’e neighborhood ! 
Dere! A man can’t t’ink of eberyt’ing 
in a minute. Here a ribbon long enough 
to hang heself—take him and den re- 
mem/’er, Phyllis, dat you be ’e wife of 
a man who hab care on his shoul’er.’’ 


598 WORKS 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


Bonnie then set up another laugh, in | upon the beach was less regular than in the 


which his partner, having quitted her 
scullery to seize the gift, which in its 
colors resembled the skin of a garter- 
snake, did not fail to join through mere 
excess of animal delight. The effect of 
the gift, however, was to leave the negro 
to make his observations, without any 
farther interruptions from one who was a 
little apt to disturb his solitude. 

A boat was now seen to pull out from 
among the bushes that lined the shore ; 
and Bonnie was able to distinguish in its 
stern sheets the persons of his master, 
Ludlow, and the Patroon. He had been 
acquainted with the seizure of the Co- 
gquette’s barge the preceding night, and 
with the confinement of the crew. Its ap- 
pearance in that place, therefore, occa- 
sioned no new surprise. But the time 
which passed while the men were rowing 
up to the sloop of war was filled with 
minutes of increasing interest. The black 
abandoned his hoe, and took a position on 
the side of the mountain that gave him a 
view of the whole bay. So long as the 
mysteries of the Lust in Rust had been 
confined to the ordinary combinations of a 
secret trade, he had been fully able to 
comprehend them; but now that there 
apparently existed an alliance so unnatu- 
ral as one between his master and the 
cruiser of the crown, he felt the neces- 
sity of double observation and of greater 
thought. 

A far more enlightened mind than that 
of the slave might have been excited by 
the expectation and the objects which now 
presented themselves, especially if suffi- 
ciently prepared for events by the knowl- 
edge of the two vessels in sight. Though 
the wind still hung at east, the cloud 
above the Raritan at length began to 
rise. 

The broad fleeces of white vapor, that 
had lain the whole morning over the con- 
tinent were rapidly uniting; and they 
formed already a dark and dense mass, 
that floated in the bottom of the estuary, 
threatening shortly to roll over the whole 
of its wide waters. The air was getting 
lighter, and variable ; and while the wash of 
the surf sounded still more audible, its roll 


earlier hours of the day. Such was the 
state of the two elements, when the boat — 
touched the side of the ship. Ina minute ~ 
it was hanging by its tackles high in the 
air; then it disappeared in the bosom of 
the dark mass. . 

It far exceeded the intelligence of Bon- 
nie to detect, now, any farther signs of — 
preparation in either of the two vessels 
which absorbed the whole of his attention. — 
They appeared to him to be alike without 
motion, and equally without people. There — 
were, it is true, a few specks in the rig- — 
ging of the Coquette, which might be — 
seen; but the distance prevented him — 
from being sure of the fact; and admit-— 
ting them to be seamen busied aloft, there } 
were no visible consequences of their pres- 
ence that his uninstructed eye could trace. — 
In a minute or two, even these scattered — 
specks were seen no longer; though the — 
attentive black thought the mastheads — 
and the rigging beneath the tops thick- 
ened, as if surrounded by more than their ' 
usual mazes of ropes. At that moment 
of suspense the cloud over the Raritan — 
emitted a flash. This seemed to be a sig- — 
nal for the cruiser; for when the eye of 
Bonnie, which had been directed toward — 
the heavens, returned toward the ship, he © 
saw that she had opened and hoisted her 
three topsails, seemingly with as little — 
exertion as an eagle would have spread — 
his wings. j 

The ship now became uneasy; for the 
wind came in puffs, and the vessel rolled — 
lightly, as if struggling to extricate itself 
from the anchor; and precisely at the 
moment when the shift of wind was felt, 
and the breeze came from the cloud in the 
west, the cruiser whirled away from its — 
constrained position, and appearing for a 
short space restless as a steed that had — 
broken from its fastening, it came up 
heavily to the wind, and lay balanced by 
the action of its sails. There was another 
minute or two of seeming inactivity, after 
which the broad surfaces of the topsails 
were brought in parallel lines. One white 
sheet was spread after another upon the 
fabric; and Bonnie saw that the Coquette, 
the swiftest cruiser of the crown in those 


r 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


seas, was dashing out from the land under 
a cloud of canvas. 

All this time the brigantine in the Cove 
lay quietly at her anchor. When the 
wind shifted, the light hull swung with its 
currents, and the image of the sea-green 
lady was seen offering her dark cheek to 
be fanned by the breeze. But she alone 
seemed to watch over the fortunes of her 
followers, for no other eye could be seen 
looking out on the danger that began so 


seriously to threaten them, both from the 


- heavens, and from a more certain and in- 
telligible foe. 

As the wind was fresh, though un- 
steady, the Coquette moved through the 
water with a velocity that did no dis- 
credit to her veputation for speed. At 
first it seemed to be the intention of the 
royal cruiser to round the cape, and gain 
an offing in the open sea, for her head was 
directed northwardly ; but no sooner had 
she cleared the curve of the little bight 
which, from its shape, is known by the 
name of the Horse Shoe, than she was 
seen shooting directly into the eye of the 
wind, and falling off with the graceful and 
easy motion of a ship in stays, her head 
looking towards the Lust in Rust. Her 
design on the notorious dealer in con- 
traband was now too evident to admit of 
doubt. 

Still, the Water-Witch betrayed no 
symptoms of alarm. The meaning eye of 
the image seemed to study the motions of 


her adversary with all the understanding 


of an intelligent being; and occasionally 
the brigantine turned slightly in the vary- 
ing currents of the air, as if volition di- 
rected the movements of the little fabric. 
These changes resembled the quick and 
slight movements of the hound, as he lifts 
his head in his lair, to listen to some dis- 
tant sound, or to scent some passing taint 
in the gale. 

In the meantime the approach of the 
ship was so swift as to cause the negro to 
shake his head with a meaning that ex- 
ceeded even his usually important look. 

Everything was propitious to her prog- 
ress; and as the water of the Cove, dur- 


ing the periods that the inlet remained | riding at her anchor. 
open, was known to be of a sufficient! stranger In the Cove 


599 


depth to admit of her entrance, the faith- 
ful Bonnie began to anticipate a severe 
blow to-the future fortunes of his master. 
The only hope that he could perceive for 
the escape of the smuggler, was in the 
changes of the heavens. 

Although the threatening cloud had 
now quitted the mouth of the Raritan, 
and was rolling eastward with fearful 
velocity, it had not yet broken. The air 
had the unnatural and heated appearance 
which precedes a gust; but, with the ex- 
ception of a few large drops, that fell 
seemingly from a clear sky, it was as yet 
what is called a dry squall. The water 
of the bay was occasionally dark, angry, 
and green; and there were moments when 
it would appear as if heavy currents of 
air descended to its surface, wantonly to 
try their power on the sister element. 
Notwithstanding these sinister omens, 
the Coquette stood on her course, without 
lessening the wide surface of her canvas 
by a single inch. They who governed her 
movements were no men of the lazy Le- 
vant, nor of the mild waters of the Medi- 
terranean, to tear their hair, and call on 
saints to stand between their helplessness 
and harm; but mariners trained in a 
boisterous sea, and accustomed to place 
their first dependence on their own good 
manhood, aided by the vigilance and skill 
of a long and severely exercised experi- 
ence. A hundred eyes on board that 
cruiser watched the advance of the rolling 
cloud, or looked upon the play of hght 
and shade, that caused the color of the 
water to vary; but it was steadily, and 
with an entire dependence on the discre- 
tion of the young officer who controlled 
the movements of the ship. 

Ludlow himself paced the deck with all 
his usual composure, so far as might be 
seen by external signs ; though in reality 
his mind was agitated by feelings that 
were foreign to the duties of his station. 
He, too, had thrown occasional glances at 
the approaching squall, but his eye was 
far oftener riveted on the motionless brig- 
antine, which was now distinctly to be 
seen from the deck of the Coquette, still 

The cry of “A 
!?? which a few 


600 WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


minutes before came out of one of the tops 
caused no surprise in the commander; 
while the crew, wondering but obedient, 
began for the first time to perceive the 
object of their strange maneuvers. Even 
the officer next in authority to the captain 
had not presumed to make any inquiry, 
though now that the object of their search 
was so evidently in view, he felt embold- 
ened to presume on his rank, and to ven- 
ture a remark. 

“‘Itis a sweet craft!’ said the staid 
lieutenant, yielding to an admiration nat- 
ural to his habits, ‘‘and one that might 
serve as a yacht for the Queen! This is 
some trifler with the revenue, or perhaps 
a buccaneer from the islands. The fellow 
shows no ensign !”’ 

*« Give him notice, sir, that he has to do 
with one who bears the royal commission, ”’ 
returned Ludlow, speaking from habit, 
and half unconscious of what he said. 
‘‘We must teach these rovers to respect 
a pennant.”’ 

The report of a cannon startled the ab- 
sent man, and caused him to remember 
the order. 

““Was that gun shotted ?’’ he asked, in 
a tone that sounded like rebuke. 

“‘ Shotted, but pointed wide, sir; merely 
a broad hint. We are no dealers in dumb 
show in the Coquette, Captain Ludlow.’’ 

*“T would not injure the vessel, even 
should it prove a buccaneer. Be care- 
ful that nothing strikes her, without an 
order.”’ 

“* Aye, *twill be well to take the beauty 
alive, sir; so pretty a boat should not be 
broken up, like an old hulk. Ha! there 
goes his bunting at last! He shows a 
white field—can the fellow be a French- 
man, after all ? ”’ 

The lieutenant took a glass, and for a 
moment applied it to his eye with the 
usual steadiness. Then he suffered the 
instrument to fall, and it would seem that 
he endeavored to recall the different flags 
that he had seen during the experience 
of many years. 

“This joker should come from some 
terra incognita.’’ he said. ‘‘ Here is a 
woman in his field, with an ugly counte- 


nance, too, unless the glass plays me false | twenty voices, in a manner to show the 


—as I live, the rogue has her counterpart 
for a figure-head ! Will you look at the 
ladies, sir ? ’’ 

Ludlow took the glass, and it was not 
without curiosity that he turned it toward 
the colors the hardy smuggler dared to 
exhibit in presence of a cruiser. The ves: 
sels were, by this time, sufficiently near 
each other to enable him to distinguish the 
swarthy features and malign smile of the 
sea-green lady, whose form was wrought 
in the field of the ensign, with-the same 
art as that which he had seen so often dis- 
played in other parts of the brigantine. 
Amazed at the daring of the freetrader, 
he returned the glass and continued to 
pace the deck in silence. There stood 
near the two speakers an officer whose 
head and form began to show the infiu- 
ence of time, and who, from his position, 
had unavoidably been an auditor of what 
passed. Though the eye of this person, 
who was the sailing-master of the sloop, 
was rarely off the threatening cloud, ex- 
cept to glance along the wide show of 
canvas that was spread, he found a mo- 
ment to take a look at the stranger. 

‘A half-rigged brig, with her fore-top- 
gallant-mast fitted abaft, a double mar- 
tingale, and a standing-gaff,’’ observed 
the methodical and technical mariner, as 
another would have recounted the pecul- 
iarities of complexion or of feature in some 
individual who was the subject of a per- 
sonal description. ‘‘The rogue has no 


need of showing his brazen-faced trull to 


be known! I chased him for six-and- 
thirty hours, in the chops of St. George’s, 
no later than last season; and the fellow 
ran about us like a dolphin playing under 
a ship’s fore-foot. We had him now on 
our weather bow, and now crossing our 
course, and, once in a while, in our way, 
as if he had been a Mother Carey’s chicken 
looking for our crumbs. He seems snug 
enough in that cove, to be sure, yet I'll 
wager the pay of any month in the twelve 
that he gives us the slip. Captain Lud- 
low, the brigantine under our lee here, in 
Spermaceti, is the well-known Skimmer 
of the Seas !”’ 

‘‘The Skimmer of the Seas!’’ echoed 


OO” 2 aS a a oe - a 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


interest created by the unexpected infor- 
mation. 

_ “T’ll swear to his character before any 
Admiralty Judge in England, or even in 
France, should there be occasion to go 
into an outlandish court—but no need of 
an oath, when here isa written account I 
took, with my own hands, having the 
chase in plain view, at noonday.’’ While 
speaking, the sailing-master took a _ to- 
bacco-box from his pocket, and removing’ 
a coil of pig-tail, he came to a deposit of 
memorandums that vied with the weed it- 
selfin color. ‘‘ Now, gentlemen,’ he con- 
tinued, ‘* you shall haveher build as justly 
as if the master-carpenter had laid itdown 
with his rule. ‘ Remember to bring a muff 
of marten’s fur from America, for Mrs. 
Trysail—buy it in London, and swear ’— 
this is not the paper—l let your boy, Mr. 
Luff, stow away the last entry of tobacco 
for me, and the young dog has disturbed 
every document Town. This is the way 
the government accounts get jammed, 
when Parliament wants to overhaul them. 
But I suppose young blood will have its 
run! I let a monkey into a church of a 
Saturday night myself, when a youngster, 
and he made such stowage of the prayer- 
books that the whole parish was by the 
ears for six months; and there is one 
quarrel between two old ladies that has 
not been made up to this hour. Ah! here 
we have it: ‘Skimmer of the Seas. Full- 
rigged forward, with fore-and-aft mainsail 
abaft; a gaff-topsail, taut in her spars, 
with light top-hamper; neat in his gear, 
as any beauty. Carries a ring tail in light 
weather; main-boom like a frigate’s top- 
sail-yard, witha main-topmast-staysail as 
big as a jib. Low in the water, with a 
woman figure-head ; carries sail more like 
a devil than a human being, and lies with- 
in four and a half points, when jammed up 
hard on a wind.’ Here are marks by 
which one of Queen Anne’s maids of honor 
might know the rogue; and there you see 
them all, as plainly as human nature can 
show them in a ship! ”’ 

‘‘The Skimmer of the Seas !’’ repeated 
the young officers, crowding around the 
veteran tar, to hear this characteristic 
description of the notorious freetrader. 


601 


‘‘Skimmer or flyer, we have him now, 
dead under our lee, with a sandy beach 
on three of his sides, and the wind in his 
eye!’ cried the first lieutenant. ‘‘ You 
shall have an opportunity, Master Try- 
sail, of correcting your account by actual 
measurement. ”’ 

The sailing-master shook his head, like 
one who doubted, and again turned his 
eye on the approaching cloud. 

The Coquette by this time had run so 
far as to have the entrance of the Cove 
open; and she was separated from her 
object only by a distance of a few cables’ 
length. In obedience to an order given 
by Ludlow, all the light canvas of the 
ship was taken in, and the vessel was 
left under her three topsails and_ jib. 
There remained, however, a question as 
to the channel; for it was not usual for 
ships of. the Coquetie’s draught to be 
seen in that quarter of the bay, and the 
threatening state of the weather rendered 
caution doubly necessary. The pilot 
shrank from a responsibility which did 
not properly belong to his office, since the 
ordinary navigation had no concern with 
that secluded place; and even Ludlow, 
stimulated as he was by so many power- 
ful motives, hesitated to incur a risk which 
greatly exceeded his duty. 

There was something so remarkable in 
the apparent security of the smuggler, 
that it naturally led to the belief he was 
certain of being protected by some un- 
known obstacle; and it was decided to 
sound before the ship was hazarded. An 
offer to carry the freetrader with the 
boats, though plausible in itself, and per- 
haps the wisest course of all, was rejected 
by the commander, on an evasive plea of 
its being an uncertain issue, though, in 
truth, because he felt an interest in one 
whom he believed the brigantine to con- 
tain, which entirely forbade the idea of 
making the vessel the scene of so violent a 
struggle. A yawl was therefore lowered 
into the water, the main-topsail of the 
ship was thrown to the mast, and Ludlow 
himself, accompanied by the pilot and the 
master, proceeded to ascertain the best 
approach to the smuggler. A flash of 
lightning, with one of those thunder-claps 


602 WORKS 
that are wont to be more terriffic on this 
continent than in the other hemisphere, 
warned the young mariner of the neces- 
sity of haste, if he would regain his ship 
before the cloud, which still threatened 
them, should reach the spot where she lay. 
The boat pulled briskly into the Cove, 
both the master.and the pilot sounding on 
each side, as fast as the leads could be 
cast from their hands and recovered. 

‘This will do,’’ said Ludlow, when they 
had ascertained that they could enter. “I 
would lay the ship as close as possible to 
the brigantine, for I distrust her quiet. 
We will go nearer.”’ 

“A brazen witch, and one whose saucy 
eye and pert figure might lead any honest 
mariner into contraband, or even into sea- 
robbery !’’ half whispered Trysail, perhaps 
afraid to trust his voice within hearing of 
a creature that seemed aimost endowed 
with the faculties of life. ‘‘Aye, this is 
the hussy! I know her by the book and 
her green jacket! But where are her 
people? The vessel is as quiet as the 
royal vault on a coronation day, when the 
last king and those who went before him 
commonly have the place to themselves. 
Here would be a pretty occasion to throw 
a boat’s crew on her decks, and haul down 
yon impudent ensign, which bears the 
likeness of this wicked lady so bravely in 
the air, if Pe 

“‘Tf what? ’’ asked Ludlow, struck with 
the plausible character of the proposal. 

‘‘ Why, if one were sure of the nature of 
such a minx, sir; for to own the truth, I 
would rather deal with a regularly-built 
Frenchman, who showed his guns honest- 
ly, and kept such a jabbering aboard that 
one might tell his bearings in the dark. 
The creature spoke! ”’ 

Ludlow did not reply, for a heavy crash 
of thunder succeeded the vivid glow of a 
flash of lightning, and glared so suddenly 
across the swarthy lineaments as to draw 
the involuntary exclamation from Trysail. 
The intimation that came from the cloud 
was not to be disregarded. The wind, 
which had so long varied, began to be 
heard in the rigging of the silent brigan- 
tine; and the two elements exhibited un- 
datirounl evidence, in their menacing and 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


fitful colors, of the near approach of the — 
gust. The young sailor, with an absorb- 
ing interest, turned his eyes on his ship. 
The yards were on the caps, the bellying 
canvas was fluttering far to leeward, and 
twenty or thirty human forms on each 
spar showed that the nimble-fingered top- — 
men were gathering in and knotting sails — 
down to a close reef. ; 
‘‘Give way, men, for your lives!” cried : 
the excited Ludlow. | 
A single dash of the oars was heard, 
and the yawl was already twenty feet 
from the mysterious image. Then fol- 
lowed a desperate struggle to regain the 
cruiser, ere the gust should strike her. 
The sullen murmur of the wind, rushing — 
through the rigging of the ship, was audi- — 
ble some time before they reached her — 
side ; and the struggles between the fabric 
and the elements were at moments so vio- 
lent as to cause the young commander to 
fear he would be too late. q 
The foot of Ludlow touched the deck of ; 
the Coquette at thé instant the weight — 
of the squall fell upon her sails. He no 
longer thought of any interest but that of — 
the moment; with all the feelings of a sea- 
man, his mind was now full of his ship. | 
“‘Let run everything!’ shouted the | 
ready officer, in a voice that made itself 
heard above the roar of the wind. ‘*Clue— 
down, and hand! Away aloft, you oe | 
men! lay out! furl away !7’ 
These orders were given in rapid suc- — 
cession, and without a trumpet, for the — 
young man could, at need, speak loud as 4 
the tempest. They were succeeded by 
one of those exciting and fearful minutes 
that are so familiar to mariners. Each 
man was intent on his duty, while the ele- 
ments worked their will around him as” 
madly as if the hand by which they are 
ordinarily restrained was forever removed. 
The bay was a sheet of foam, while the 
rushing of the gust resembled the d 
rumbling of a thousand chariots. 
ship yielded to the pressure, until the 


—_— =." ee 


| 
: 


into the water. But this was no more 


THE WATEHR-WITCH 


than the first submission to the shock. 
The well-molded fabric recovered its bal- 
ance, and struggled through its element, 
as if conscious that there was security 
only in motion. Ludlow glanced his eye 
to leeward. The opening of the Cove was 
favorably situated, and he caught a 
glimpse of the spars of the brigantine, 
rocking violently in the squall. He spoke 
to demand if the anchors were clear ; then 
he was heard, shouting again from his 
station in the weather gangway : 

‘¢ Hard a-weather ! ’’ 

The first efforts of the cruiser to obey 
her helm, stripped as she was of canvas, 
were labored and slow. But when her 
head began to fall off, the driving scud 
was scarce swifter than her motion. At 
that moment, the sluices of the cloud 
opened, and a torrent of rain mingled in 
the uproar and added to the confusion. 
Nothing was now visible but the lines of 
falling water, and the sheet of white foam 
through which the ship was glancing. 

‘Here is the land, sir!’’ bellowed Try- 
sail, from a cathead, where he stood re- 
sembling some venerable sea-god, dripping 
with his native element. ‘‘ We are pass- 
ing it like a race-horse.’’ 

« See your bowers clear ! ”’ shouted back 
the Captain. 

‘* Ready, sir, ready !”’ 

Ludlow motioned to the men at the 
wheel to bring the ship to the wind ; and 
when her way was sufficiently deadened, 
two ponderous anchors dropped, at an- 
other signal, into the water. The vast 
fabric was not checked without a farther 
and tremendous struggle. When the bows 
felt the restraint, the ship swung head to 
wind, and fathom after fathom of the 
enormous ropes was extracted by surges 
so violent as to cause the hull to quiver to 
its center. But the first lieutenant and 
Trysail were no novices in their duty, and 
in less than a minute they had secured 
the vessel steadily at her anchors. When 
this important service was performed, 
officers and crew stood looking at each 
other like men who had just made a haz- 
ardous and fearful experiment. The view 
again opened, and objects on the land be- 
came visible through the still falling rain. 


603 


The change was like that from night to 
day. Men who had passed their lives on 
the sea drew long and relieving breaths, 
conscious that the danger was happily 
passed. As the more pressing interest of 
their own situation abated, they remem- 
bered the object of their search. All eyes 
were turned in quest of the smuggler ; 
but, by some inexplicable means, he had 
disappeared. 

“The Skimmer of the Seas!” and 
‘What has become of the brigantine ? ’’ 
were exclamations that the discipline of a 
royal cruiser could not repress. They 
were repeated by a hundred mouths, while 
twice aS many eyes scught to find the 
beautiful fabric. All lookedinvain. The 
spot where the Water- Wvtch had so lately 
lain was vacant, and no vestige of her 
wreck lined the shores of the Cove. Dur- 
ing the time the ship was handing her 
sails, and preparing to enter the Cove, no 
one had leisure to look for the stranger ; 
and after the vessel had anchored, until 
that moment, it was not possible to see 
her length on any side of them. 

There was still a dense mass of falling 
water moving seaward ; but the curious 
and anxious eyes of Ludlow made fruitless 
efforts to penetrate its secrets. Once, in- 
deed, more than an hour after the gust 
had reached his own ship, and when the 
ocean in the offing was clear and calm, he 
thought he could distinguish, far to sea- 
ward, the delicate tracery of a vessel’s 
spars, drawn against the horizon, without 
any canvas set. But a second look did 
not assure him of the truth of the con- 
jecture. 

There were many extraordinary tales 
related that night on board her Britannic 
Majesty’s ship Coquette. The boatswain 
affirmed that, while piping below in order 
to overhaul the cables, he had heard a 
screaming in the air that sounded as if a 
hundred devils were mocking him, and 
which he told the gunner in confidence he 
believed was no more than the winding of 
a call on board the brigantine, who had 
taken occasion, when other vessels were 
glad to anchor, to get under way in her 
own fashion. There was also a fore-top- 
man named Robert Yarn, a fellow whose 


604 


faculty for story-telling equaled that of 
Scheherazade, and who not only asserted, 
but who confirmed the declaration by 
many strange oaths, that while he lay 
on the lee fore-topsail yardarm, stretch- 
ing forth an arm te grasp the leech of the 
sail, a dark-looking female fluttered over 
his head, and caused her long hair to 
whisk into his face, in a manner that 
compelled him to shut his eyes, which 
gave occasion to a smart reprimand from 
the reefer of the top. There was a feeble 
attempt to explain this assault by the 
man who lay next to Yarn, who affected 
to think the hair was no more than the 
end of a gasket whipping in the wind ; 
but his shipmate, who had pulled one of 
the oars of the yawl, soon silenced this 
explanation by the virtue of his long-es- 
tablished reputation for veracity. Even 
Trysail ventured several mysterious con- 
jectures concerning the fate of the brigan- 
tine in the gunroom; but, on returning 
from the duty of sounding the inlet, 
whither he had been sent by his captain, 
he was less communicative and more 
thoughtful than usual. It appeared, 
indeed, from the surprise that was man- 
ifested by every officer that heard the 
report of the quartermaster, who had 
given the casts of the lead on this ser- 
vice, that no one in the ship, with the 
exception of Alderman Van Beverout, was 
at all aware that there was rather more 
than two fathoms of water in that secret 
passage. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


**Sirs, take your places, and be vigilant.” 
—HEnRy IV. 


THE succeeding day was one in which 
the weather had a fixed character. The 
wind was east, and, though light, not 
fluctuating. The air had that thick and 
hazy appearance which properly belongs 
to the autumn in this climate, but which 
is sometimes seen at midsummer, when a 
dry wind blows from the ocean. The roll 
of the surf on the shore was regular and 
monotonous, and the currents of the air 
were so steady as to remove every appre- 
hension of a change. The moment to 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


which the action of the tale is’ trans- 
ferred was in the earlier hours of the 
afternoon. 

At that time the Coquette lay again at 
her anchors, just within the shelter of the 
cape. ‘There were a few small sails to be 
seen passing up the bay; but the scene, 
as was common to that distant day, pre- 
sented little of the activity of our own 
times. The windows of the Lust in Rust 
were again open, and the movement of 
the slaves in and about the villa announced 
the presence of its master. : 

The Alderman was in truth, at the hour — 
named, pacing the little lawn in front of © 
la Cour des Fees, accompanied by Oloff — 
Van Staats ana the commander of the 
cruiser. It was evident, by the frequent — 
glances which the latter threw in the — 
direction of the pavilion, that he still © 
thought of her who was absent; while 
the faculties of the two others were either — 
in better subjection, or less stimulated by 
anxiety. One who understood the char- 
acter of the individual, and who was ac- 
quainted with the past, might have 
suspected, by this indifference on the part 
of the Patroon, placed as it was in such a 
singular contrast to a sort of mysterious 
animation which enlivened a countenance 
whose ordinary expression was placid con- 
tent, that the young suitor thought less © 
than formerly of the assets of old Etienne, — 
and more of the secret pleasure he found — 
in the singular incidents of which he had 
been a witness. 

‘‘ Propriety and discretion !’’ observed 
the burgher, in reply to a remark of one — 
of the young men, ‘‘I say again, for the ~ 
twentieth time, that we shall have Alida — 
Barberie back among us as handsome, as 
innocent, aye, and as rich as ever !_per- , 
haps I should also say, as willful. A bag- — 
gage to worry her old uncle, and two hon- 
orable suitors in so thoughtless a manner. — 
Circumstances, gentlemen,’’ continued the — 
wary merchant, who saw that the value 
of the hand of which he had to dispose 
was somewhat reduced in the market, — 
‘have placed you on a footing in my es-_ 
teem. Should my niece, after all, prefer 
Captain Ludlow for a partner, in her 
worldy affairs, why, it should not weaken _ 


THE WATER-WiITOH. 


friendship between the son of old Ste- 
phanus Van Staats and Myndert Van 
Beverout. Our grandmothers were cous- 
ins, and there should be charities in the 
same blood.’’ 

*“T could not wish to press my suit,”’ 
returned the Patroon, ‘‘ when the lady 
has given so direct a hint that it was dis- 
agreeable ‘. 

*‘Hint me no hints! Do you call this 
caprice of a moment, this trifling, as the 
Captain here would call it, with the winds 
and tides, a hint! The girl has Norman 
blood in her veins, and she wished to put 
animation into the courtship. If bargains 
were to be interrupted by a little cheapen- 
ing of the buyer, and some affectation of 
waiting for a better market in the seller, 
her Majesty might as well order her cus- 
tom-houses to be closed at once, and look 
to other resources for revenue. Let the 
girl’s fancy have its swing, and the pro- 
fits of a year’s peltry against thy rent- 
roll, we shall see her penitent for her 
folly, and willing to hear reason. My 
sister’s daughter is no witch to go jour- 
neying forever about the world on a 
broomstick ! ”’ 

«There is a tradition in our family,”’ 
said Oloff Van Staats, his eye lighting 
with a mysterious excitement, while he 
affected to laugh at the folly he uttered, 
‘‘that the great Poughkeepsie fortune- 
teller foretold, in the presence of my 
grandmother, that a Patroon of Kinder- 
hook should intermarry with a_ witch. 
So, should I see la Belle in the position 
you name, it would not greatly alarm 
me.”’ 

“The prophecy was fulfilled at the 
wedding of thy father !’’ muttered Myn- 
dert, who, notwithstanding the outward 
levity with which he treated the subject, 
was not entirely free from secret rever- 
ence for the provincial soothsayers, some 
of whom continued in high repute even to 
the close of the last century. ‘‘ His son 
would not else have been so clever a 
youth ! But here is Captain Ludlow 
looking at the ocean as if he expected to 
see my niece rise out of the water in the 
shape of a mermaid.”’ 

The commander of the Coquette pointed 


605 


to the objecv which attracted his gaze, 
and which, appearing as it did at that 
moment, was certainly not of a nature to 
lessen the faith of either of his com- 
panions in supernatural agencies. 

It has been said that the wind was 
dry, and the air misty, or rather so preg- 
nant with a thin haze as to give it the 
appearance of a dull, smoky light. In 
such a state of the weather, the eye, 
more especially of one placed on an ele- 
vation, is unable to distinguish what is 
termed the visible horizon at sea. The 
two elements become so_ blended, that 
our organs cannot tell where the water 
ends, or where the void of the heavens 
commences. It is a consequence of this 
indistinctness that any object seen beyond 
the apparent boundary of water has the 
appearance of floating in the air. It is 
rare for the organs of a landsman to 
penetrate beyond the apparent limits of 
the sea, when the atmosphere exhibits 
this peculiarity, though the practiced eye 
of a mariner often detects vessels which 
are hid from others, merely because they 
are not sought in the proper place. The 
deception may also be aided by a slight 
degree of refraction. 

‘‘Here,’’ said Ludlow, pointing in a 
line that would have struck the water 
some two or three leagues in the offing, 
‘‘first bring the chimney of yonder low 
building on the plain in a range with the 
dead oak on the shore, and then raise your 
eyes slowly, till they strike a sail.”’ 

‘That ship is navigating the heavens !”’ 
exclaimed Myndert. ‘‘ Thy grandmother 
was a sensible woman, Patroon; she was 
a cousin of my progenitor, and there is no 
knowing what two clever old ladies in 
their time may have heard and seen, 
when such sights as this are beheld in our 
own !”’ 

‘‘T am as little disposed as another to 
put faith in incredible things,’’ gravely 
returned Oloff Van Staats; ‘‘and yet if 
required to give my testimony, I should 
be reluctant to say that yonder vessel is 
not floating in the heavens !”’ 

‘You might not give it to that effect in 
safety,’’ said Ludlow. ‘‘It is no other 
than a half-rigged brigantine on a taut 


606 WORKS 


bowline, though she bears no great show 
of canvas. Mr. Van Beverout, her Maj- 
esty’s cruiser is about to put to sea.”’ 

Myndert heard this declaration in 
visible dissatisfaction. He spoke of the 
virtue of patience, and of the comforts of 
the solid ground; but when he found the 
intention of the Queen’s servant was not to 
be shaken, he reluctantly professed an in- 
tention of repeating the personal experi- 
ment of the preceding day. Accordingly, 
within half an hour the whole party were 
on the banks of the Shrewsbury, and about 
toembark in the barge of the Coquette. 

‘* Adieu, Monsieur Francois,”’ said the 
Alderman, nodding his head to the ancient 
valet, who stood with a disconsolate air on 
the shore. ‘‘ Have a care of the movables 
in la Cour des Fees; we have further use 
for them.”’ 

“‘Mais, Monsieur Bevre’, mon devoir et 
ma foi, suppose la mer was plus agreable, 
mon desir shall be to suivre Mam/’selle 
Alide. Jamais personne de la famille 
Barberie love de sea; mais, Monsieur, 
comment faire? I shall die sur Ja mer de 
douleur; and I shall die d’ennui to rester 
ici bien sur ! ”’ 

“Come then, faithful Francois,’’ said 
Ludlow. ‘* You shall follow your young 
mistress; and perhaps on further trial 
you may be disposed to think the lives of 
us Seamen more tolerable than you had 
believed.’’ 

After an eloquent expression of counte- 
nance, in which the secretly amused, 
though grave-looking boat’s crew thought 
the old man was about to give a specimen 
of his powers of anticipation, the affection- 
ate domestic entered the barge. Ludlow 
felt for his distress, and encouraged him 
by a look of approbation. The language 
of kindness does not always need a tongue ; 
and the conscience of the valet smote him 
with the idea that he might have ex- 
pressed himself too strongly concerning a 
profession to which the other had devoted 
life and hopes. 

‘‘La mer, Monsieur le Capitaine,’’ he 
said, with an acknowledging reverence, 
‘‘est un vaste theatre de la gloire. Voila 
Messieurs de Tourville et Dougay Trouin ; 
ce sont des hommes vraiment remarqua- 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


bles! mais, Monsieur, quant a tout la 
famille de Barberie, we have toujours un 
sentiment plus favorable pour la terre.” 

‘| wish your whimsical jade of a mis- 


tress, Master Francois, had found the 
same sentiment,’’ dryly observed Myn- — 


dert; ‘‘for let me tell you, this cruising 
about in a suspicious vessel is as little 
creditable to her judgment as—cheer up, 
Patroon; the girl is only putting thy 


—— 


a. 


metal to trial, and the sea air will do no © 
damage to her complexion or her pocket. — 


A little predilection for salt water must 
raise the girl in your estimation, Captain 
Ludlow ? ” . ? 


“If the predilection goes no farther than 


the element, sir,’’ was the caustic answer. — 


‘‘But, deluded or not, erring or deceived, 


Alida Barberie is not to be deserted, the - 
I did love your © 


victim of a villain’s arts. 


a 


niece, Mr. Van Beverout, and—pull with a — 


will, men; are you sleeping on the oars ?”? — 


The sudden manner in which the young 


man interrupted himself, and the depth of — 
tone in which he spoke to the boat’s crew, 


put an end to the discourse. 
parent that he wished to say no more, 


It was ap- 


- “aa 


and that he even regretted the weakness — 
which had induced him to say so much. — 


The remainder of the distance between the — 


shore and the ship was passed in silence. 
When Queen Anne’s cruiser was seen 
doubling Sandy Hook, past meridian on 
the 6th June (sea-time) in the year 17—, 
the wind, as stated in an ancient journal, 
which was kept by one of the midshipmen, 
and is still in existence, was light, steady 
at south and by west half-west. It ap- 


—— 


, 


cx 


pears, by the same document, that the ves- — 
sel took. her departure at seven o’clock, — 
P.M., the point of Sandy Hook bearing west- — 


half-south, distant three leagues. 


On the © 


same page which contains these particu- P 
lars it is observed, under the head of re- — 
marks, ‘‘Ship under starboard studding — 
sails, forward and aft, making six knots. — 
A suspicious half-rigged brigantine lying- — 


to in the eastern board, under her main- — 
sail, with fore-topsail to the mast; light 


and lofty sails and jib loose; foresail in 
the brails. 
booms appear to be rigged out, and the 
gear rove ready for a run. This vessel is 


Her starboard studdingsail- 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


supposed to be the celebrated hermaphro- 
dite Water-Witch, commanded by the 
notorious Skimmer of the Seas, and the 
same fellow who gave us so queer a slip 
yesterday. ‘The Lord send us a capful of 
wind, and we’ll try his heels before morn- 
ing! Passengers, Alderman Van Beve- 
rout, of the second ward of the city of New 
York, in her Majesty’s province of the 
same name; Oloff Van Staats, Esq., com- 
monly called the Patroon of Kinderhook, 
of the same colony; and a qualmish-look- 
ing old chap, in a sort of marine’s jacket, 
who answers when hailed as Francois. A 
rum set, taken altogether, though they 
seem to suit the Captain’s fancy. Mem.: 
Each lipper of a wave works like tartar 


emetic on the lad in marine gear.”’ 


As no description of ours can give a 
more graphic account of the position of 


_ the two vessels in question, at the time 


named, than that which is contained in 
the foregoing extract, we shall take up 
the narrative at that moment which the 
reader will see must, in the fortieth degree 
of latitude, and in the month of June, 
have been shortly after the close of day. 

The young votary of Neptune, whose 
opinions have just been quoted, had indeed 
presumed on his knowledge of the local- 
ities, in affirming the distance and _ posi- 
tion of the cape, since the low sandy point 
was no longer visible from the deck. The 
sun had set, as seen from the vessel, pre- 
cisely in the mouth of the Raritan; and 
the shadows from Navesink, or Never- 
sink, as the hills are vulgarly called, were 
thrown far upon the sea. 

In short, the night was gathering round 
the mariners, with every appearance of 
settled and mild weather, but of a dark- 
ness deeper than’ waS common on the 
ocean. Under such circumstances the 
great object was to keep on the track of 
the chase, during the time when she must 
necessarily be hid from their sight. 

Ludlow walked into the lee: gangway 
of his ship, and, leaning with his elbow on 
the empty hammock-cloths, he gazed long 
m silence at the object of his pursuit. The 
Water- Witch was lying in the quarter of 
the horizon most favorable to being seen. 
The twilight, which still fell out of the 


607 


heavens, was without glare in that direc- 
tion; and for the first time in that day he 
saw her in her true proportions. The ad- 
miration of a seaman was blended with 
the other sensations of the young man. 
The brigantine lay in the position that ex- 
hibited her exquisitely molded hull and 
rakish rig to the most advantage. The 
head, having come to the wind, was turned 
toward her pursuer ; and as the bows rose 
on some swell that was heavier than com- 
mon, Ludlow saw, or fancied he saw, the 
mysterious image still perched on the cut- 
water, holding the book to the curious, 
and ever pointing with its finger across the 
waste of water. A movment of the ham- 
mock-cloths caused the young sailor to 
bend his head aside, and he then saw 
that the master had drawn as near his 
person as discipline would warrant. Lud- 
low had a great respect for the professional 
attainments that his inferior unquestion- 
ably possessed; and he was not without 
some consideration for the chances of a 
fortune which had not done much to re- 
ward the privations and the services of 
a seaman old enough to be his father. 
The recollection of these facts always dis- 
posed him to be indulgent to a man who 
had httle beyond his seaman-like char- 
acter and long experience to recommend 
him. 

“We are likely to have a thick night, 
Master Trysail,’’ said the young Captain, 
without deeming it necessary to change 
his look, ‘‘and we may yet be brought 
on a bowline before yonder insolent is 
overhauled.’’ 

The master smiled like one who knew 
more than he expressed, and gravely shook 
his head. 

«We may have many pulls on our bow- 
lines, and some squaring of yards, too, be- 
fore the Coquette (the figure-head of the — 
sloop-of-war was also a female) gets near 
enough to the dark-faced woman under 
the bowsprit of the brigantine to whisper 
her mind. You and I have been nigh 
enough to see the white of her eyes, and 
to count the teeth she shows in that cun- 
ning grin of hers—and what good has 
come of our visit? I am but a subordi- 
nate, Captain Ludlow, and I know my 


608 WORKS OF 


duty too well not to be silent in a squall, 
and I hope too well! not to know how to 
speak when my commander wishes the 
opinions of his officers at a counsel; and 
therefore mine, just now, is perhaps differ- 
ent from that of some others in this ship 
that I will not name, who are good men, 
too, though none of the oldest.’’ 

«And what is thy opinion, Trysail?— 
the ship is doing well, and she carries her 
canvas bravely ? ” , 

‘“The ship behaves like a well-bred 
young woman in the presence of the 
Queen; modest, but stately—but of what 
use is canvas, in a chase where witchcraft 
breeds squalls and shortens sail in one ves- 
sel, while it gives flying kites to another ! 
If her Majesty, God bless her! should be 
ever persuaded to do so silly a thing as to 
give old Tom Trysail a ship, and the said 
ship lay, just here-away, where the Co- 
quette is now getting along so cleverly, 
why then, as in duty bound, I know 
very well what her commander would 
do 99 

““ Which would be——’’ 

“To in all studding-sails, and bring the 
vessel on the wind.”’ 

“That would be to carry you to the 
southward, while the chase lies here in 
the eastern board !”’ 

“Who can say how long she will lie 
there? They told us, in York, that there 
was a Frenchman, of our burden and 
metal, rummaging about among the fish- 
ermen, lower down on the coast. Now, 
sir, no man knows that the war is half 
over better than myself, for not a ha’penny 
of prize money has warmed my pocket 
these three years; but, as I was saying, 
if a Frenchman will come off his ground, 
and will run his ship into troubled water, 
why—whose fault is it but his own? A 
pretty affair might be made out of such a 
mistake, Captain Ludlow; whereas run- 
ning after yonder brigantine is flapping 
out the Queen’s canvas for nothing. The 
vessel’s bottom will want new sheathing, 
im my opinion, before you catch him.”’’ 

‘Il know not, Trysail,’’ returned his 
captain, glancing an eye aloft; ‘‘ every- 
thing draws, and the ship never went 
along with less trouble to herself. We 


FENIMORE COOPER. 


shall not know which has the longest les, 
till the trial is made.”’ 

“You may judge of the rogue’s ee | 
by his impudence. There he lies, waiting ; 


for us, like a line-of-battle ship lying-to 
Though a 


\ 


for an enemy to come down. 
man of some experience in my way, I have 
never seena lord’s son more sure of pro- 
motion than that same brigantine seems 
to be of his heels! If this old Frenchman 
goes on with his faces much longer, he 
will turn himself inside out, and then we 
shall get an honest look at him, for these 
fellows never carry their true characters 
aboveboard, like a fair-dealing English- 
man. Well, sir, as ] was remarking, yon 
rover, if rover he be, has more faith in his 
canvas than in the church. J make no 
doubt, Captain Ludlow, that the brigan- 
tine went through the inlet while we were 
handling our topsails yesterday ; for Iam 
none of those who areina hurry to give 
credit to any will-o’-the-wisp tale; be- 
sides which, I sounded the passage with 
my own hands, and know the thing to be 
possible, with the wind blowing heavy 
over the taffrail ; still, sir, human nature 
is human nature, and what is the oldest. 
seaman after all but a man? And so, to— 
conclude, I would rather any day chase a 
Frenchman, whose disposition is known to — 
me, than have the credit of making trav- 
erses for eight-and-forty hours, in the 
wake of one of these flyers, with little 
hope of getting him within hail.”’ 3 
“You forget, Master Trysail, that I 
have been aboard the chase, and know 
something of his build and character.”’ 
“They say as much aboard here,” re- 
turned the old tar, drawing nearer to the 
person of his captain, under an impulse of © 
strong curiosity ; “‘ though none presume — 
to be acquainted with the particulars. 1 
am not one of those who ask impertinent 
questions, more especially under her Maj- 
esty’s pennant; for the worst enemy I 
have will not say I am very womanish. 
One would think, however, that there was 
neat work on board a craft that is so 
prettily molded about her water lines?” — 
‘<She is perfect as to construction, and 
admirable in gear.’ Uk 
*‘Tthought as much, by instinct! 


‘) 


< 
1) Oa 
Her 
, a 


THE WATER-WITOU. 


commander need not, however, be any the 
more sure of keeping her off the rocks on 
that account. The prettiest young woman 
in our parish was wrecked, as one might 
say, on theshoals of her own good looks, 
having cruised once too often in the com- 
pany of the squire’s son. A comely wench 
she was, though she luffed athwart all her 
old companions when the young lord of the 
manor fell into her wake. Well, she did 
bravely enough, sir, as long as she could 
‘carry her flying kites, and make a fair 
wind of it; but when the squall, of which 
I spoke, overtook her, what could she do 
but keep away before it ?—and as others 
who are snugger in their morals hove-to as 
it were, under the storm-sails of religion 
and such matters as they had picked up in 
the catechism, she drifted to leeward of 
all honest society! A neatly-built and 
clean-heeled hussy was that girl; and I 
am not certain, by any means, that Mrs. 
Trysail would this day call herself the lady 
of a queen’s officer had the other known 
how to carry sail in the company of her 
betters.”’ 

The worthy master drew a long breath, 
which possibly was a nautical sigh, but 
which certainly had more of the north 
wind than of the zephyr in its breathing ; 
and he had recourse to the little box of 
iron, whence he usually drew consolation. 

“‘T have heard of this accident before,’ 
returned Ludlow, who had sailed as a 
midshipman in the same vessel with, and 
indeed as a subordinate to, his present 
inferior. ‘‘ But, from all accounts, you 
have little reason to regret the change, as 
I hear the best character of your ‘present 
worthy partner.”’ 

**No doubt, sir, no doubt. I defy any 
man in the ship to say that I am a back- 
biter, even against my wife, with whom I 
have a sort of lawful right to deal can- 
didly. I make no complaints, and am a 
happy man at sea, and I piously hope 
Mrs. Trysail knows how to submit to her 
duty at home. I suppose you see, sir, 
that the chase has hauled his yards, and 
is getting his fore-tack aboard ?” 

Ludlow, whose eye did not often turn 
from the brigantine, nodded assent; and 
the master, having satisfied himself, by 

IV .—20 


609 


actual inspection, that every sail in the 
Coquette did its duty, continued, ‘The 
night is coming on thick, and we shall 
have occasion for all our eyes to keep the 
rogue in view, when he begins to change 
his bearings—but as I was saying, if the 
commander of yon half-rig is too vain of 
her good looks, he may yet wreck her, in 
his pride! The rogue has a desperate 
character as a smuggler, though, for my 
own part, I cannot say that I look on such 
men with as unfavorable an eye as some 
others. This business of trade seems to 
be a sort of chase between one man’s 
wits and another man’s wits, and the 
dullest goer must be content to fall to 
leeward. When it comes to be a ques- 
tion of revenue, why, he who goes free 
is lucky, and he who is caught, a prize. 
I have known a flag officer look the 
other way, Captain Ludlow, when his 
own effects were passing duty free; and 
as to your admiral’s lady, she is a great 
patroness of the contraband. I do not 
deny, sir, that a smuggler must be 
caught, and when caught, condemned, 
after which there must be a fair distribu- 
tion among the captors; but all I mean 
to say is, that there are worse men in the 
world than your British smuggler—such, 
for instance, as your Frenchman, your 
Dutchman, or your Don.’’ 

‘‘These are- heterodox opinions for a 
queen’s servant,’’ said Ludlow, as much 
inclined to smile as to frown. 

‘‘T hope I know my duty too well to 
preach them to the ship’s company, but a 
man may say that, in a philosophical way, 
before his captain, that he would not let 
run into a midshipman’s ear. Though no 
lawyer, I know what is meant by swear- 
ing a witness to the truth and nothing but 
the truth. I wish the Queen got the last, 
God bless her! several worn-out ships 
would then be broken up, and better ves- 
sels sent tosea in their places. But, sir, 
speaking in a religious pojnt of view, what 
is the difference between passing in a trunk 
of finery, with a duchess’s name on the 
brass plate, or in passing in gin enough to 
fill a cutter’s hold ? ”’ 

‘*One would think a man of your years, 
Mr. Trysail, would see the difference be- 


610 


tween robbing the revenue of a guinea, 
and robbing it of a thousand pounds.’’ 

‘* Which is just the difference between 
retail and wholesale—and that is no trifle, 
I admit, Captain Ludlow, in a commer- 
cial country, especially in genteel life. 
Still, sir, revenue is the country’s right, 
therefore Il allow a smuggler to be a bad 
man, only not so bad as those I have just 
named, particularly your Dutchman! The 
Queen is right to make those rogues lower 
their flags to her in the narrow seas, 
which are her lawful property; because 
England, being a wealthy island, and Hol- 
land no more than a bit of bog turned up 
to dry, it is reasonable that we should 
have the command afloat. No, sir, though 
none of your outcriers against a man be- 
cause he has had bad luck in a chase with 
a revenue cutter, I hope I know what the 
natural rights of an Englishman are. We 
must be masters here, Captain Ludlow, 
will-ye-nill-ye, and look te the main 
chances of trade and manufactures! ” 

“7 had not thought you so accom- 
plished a statesman, Mr. Trysail: ’’ 

“Though a poor man’s son, Captain 
Ludlow, Iam a free-born Briton, and my 
education has not been entirely overlooked. 
I hope I know something of the constitu- 
tion, as well as my betters. Justice and 
honor being an Englishman’s mottoes, we 
must look manfully to the main chance. 
We are none of your flighty talkers, but 
a reasoning people, and there is no want 
of deep thinkers on the little island; and 
therefore, sir, taking all together, why, 
England must stick up for her rights! 
Here is your Dutchman, for instance, a 
ravenous cormorant : a fellow witha throat 
wide enough to swallow all the gold of the 
Great Mogul, if he could get at it: and 
yet a vagabond who has not even a fair 
footing on the earth, if the truth must be 
spoken. Well, sir, shall England give up 
her rights to a nation of such blackguards ? 
No, sir; our venerable constitution and 
mother Church itself forbid; and there- 
fore I say, dam’me, lay them aboard, if 
they refuse us any of our natural rights, 
or show a wish to bring us down to their 
own dirty level! ”’ 

**Reasoned like a countryman of New- 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


ton, and with an eloquence that would do 
credit to Cicero! I shall endeavor to 
digest your ideas at my leisure, since they 
are much too solid food to be disposed of 
ina minute. At present we will look to 
the chase, for I see, by the aid of my glass, 
that he has set his studding-sails, and is 
beginning to draw ahead.” 

This remark closed the dialogue between 
the Captain and his subordinate. The 
latter quitted the gangway with that 
secret and pleasurable sensation which: 
communicates itself to all who have reason 
to think they have delivered themselves 
creditably of a train of profound thought. 

It was, in truth, time to lend every 
faculty to the movements of the brigan- 
tine; for there was great reason to appre- 
hend that, by changing her direction in 
the darkness, she might elude them. The 
night was fast closing on the Coquette, 


and at each moment the horizonnarrowed 


around her, so that it was only at un- 
certain intervals the men aloft could 
distinguish the position of the chase. 
While the two vessels were thus situated, 
Ludlow joined his guests on the quarter- 
deck. 

‘A wise man will trust to his wits, 
what cannot be done by force,’’ said the 
Alderman. ‘‘I do not pretend to be much 
of a mariner, Captain Ludlow, though I 
once spent a week in London, and I have 
crossed the ocean seven times to Rotter- 
dam. We did little in our passages, by 
striving to force nature. When the nights 
came in dark, as at present, the honest 
skippers were content to wait for better 
times ;~by which means we were sure not 
to miss our road, and of finally arriving 
at the destined port in safety.”’ 

“You saw that the brigantine was 
opening his canvas, when last seen ; and 
he that would move fast must have re- 
course to his sails.’’ 

‘‘One never knows what may be brew- 
ing, up there in the heavens, when the 
eye cannot see the color of a cloud. I 
have little knowledge of the character of 
the Skimmer of the Seas beyond that 
which common fame gives him; but, in 
the poor judgment of a landsman, we 
should do better by showing lanterns in 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


different parts of the ship, lest some 
homeward bound vessel do us an injury, 
and waiting until the morning for farther 
movements.”’ 

“We are spared the trouble, for look, 
the insolent has set a light himself, as if 
to invite us to follow! This temerity ex- 
ceeds belief! To dare to trifle thus with 
one of the swiftest cruisers in the English 
fleet! See that everything draws, gen- 
tlemen, and take a pull at all the sheets. 
Hail the tops, sir, and make sure that 
everything is home.”’ 

The order was succeeded by the voice of 
the officer of the watch, who inquired, as 
directed, if each sail was distended to the 
utmost. Force was applied to some of 
the ropes, and then a general - quiet suc- 
ceeded to the momentary activity. 

The brigantine had indeed showed a 
light, as if in mockery of the attempt of 
the royal cruiser. Though secretly stung 
by this open contempt of their speed, the 
officers of the Coquette found themselves 
relieved from a painful and anxious duty. 
Before this beacon was seen, they were 
obliged to exert their senses to the utmost, 
in order to get occasional glimpses of the 
position of the chase; while they now 
steered in confidence for the brilliant little 
spot that was gently rising and falling 
with the waves. 

“‘[ think we near him,’’ half whispered 
the eager captain; ‘“‘see, there is some 
design visible on the sides of the lantern. 
Hold! Ah! ’tis the face of a woman, as 
I live.”’ 

“The men of the yawl report that the 
rover shows this symbol in many parts of 
his vessel, and we know he had the im- 
pudence to set it yesterday in our pres- 
ence, even on his ensign.’’ 

““True—true; take you the glass, Mr. 
Luff, and tell me if there be not a woman’s 
face sketched in front of that light—we 
certainly near him fast—let there be 
silence, fore and aft the ship. The rogues 
mistake our bearing's ! ’’ 

““A saucy-looking jade, as one might 
wish to see!’’ returned the lieutenant. 
“‘Her impudent laugh is visible to the 
naked eye.”’ 

“See all clear for laying him aboard ! 


611 


Get a party to throw on his decks, sir! 
I will lead them myself.’’ 

These orders were given in an under- 
tone, and rapidly. They were promptly 
obeyed. In the meantime the Coquette 
continued to glide gently ahead, her sails 
thickening with the dew, and every breath 
of the heavy air acting with increased 
power on their surfaces. The boarders 
were stationed, orders were given for the 
most profound silence, and as the ship 
drew nearer to the light, even the offi- 
cers were commanded not to stir. Ludlow 
stationed himself in the mizzen channels, 
to con the ship; and his directions were 
repeated to the quartermaster in a loud 
whisper. 

“The night is so dark, we are certainly 
unseen !’’ observed the young man to his 
second in command, who stood at his 
elbow. “They have unaccountably mis- 
taken our position. Observe how the face 
of the painting becomes more distinct— 
one can see even the curls of the hair. 
Luff, sir, luff—we will run him aboard on. 
his weather quarter.”’ 

““The fool must be lying-to!’’ returned 
the lieutenant. ‘‘ Even your witches fail 
of common-sense at times! Do you see 
which way he has his head, sir! ’’ 

*“T see nothing but the light. It is so 
dark that our own sails are scarcely visi- 
ble—yet I think here are his yards, a little 
forward of our lee beam.”’ 

‘<’Tis our own lower boom. I got it out 
in readiness for the other tack, in case the 
knave should wear. Are we not running 
too full ? ”’ 

“Luff you may, a little—luff, or we 
shall crush him !’’ | 

As this order was given Ludlow passed 
swiftly forward. He found the boarders 
ready for a spring, and he rapidly gave 
his orders. The men were told to carry 
the brigantine at every hazard, but not to 
offer violence, unless serious resistance 
was made. They were thrice enjoined not 
to enter the cabins, and the young man 
expressed a generous wish that, in every 
case, the Skimmer of the Seas might be 
taken alive. By the time these directions 
were given the light was so near that the 
malign countenance of the sea-green lady 


612 VWORES 
was seen in every lineament. Ludlow 
looked in vain for the spars, in order to 
ascertain in which direction the head of 
the brigantine lay; but, trusting to luck, 
he saw that the decisive moment was 
come. 

‘‘ Starboard, and run him aboard ! 
Away there, you boarders, away! Heave 
with your grapnels; heave, men, with a 
long swing, heave! Meet her, with the 
helm—hard down—meet her—steady !’’ 
was shouted in a clear, full, and steady 
voice, that seemed to deepen at each man- 
date which issued from the lips of the 
young Captain. 

The boarders cheered heartily and 
leaped into the rigging. The Coquette 
readily and rapidly yielded to the power 
of herrudder. First inclining to the light, 
and then sweeping up toward the wind 
again, in another instant she was close 
upon the chase. The irons were thrown, 
the men once more shouted, and all on 
board held their breaths in expectation of 
the crash of the meeting hulls. At that 
moment of high excitement the woman’s 
face rose a short distance in the air, 
seemed to smile in derision of their at- 
tempt, and suddenly disappeared. The 
ship passed steadily ahead, while no noise 
but the sullen wash of the waters was 
audible. The boarding-irons were heard 
falling heavily into the sea, and the Co- 
quette rapidly overran the spot where the 
light had been seen, without sustaining 
any shock. Though the clouds lifted a 
little, and the eye might embrace a circuit 
of a few hundred feet, there certainly was 
nothing to be seen within its range but 
the unquiet element, and the stately 
cruiser of Queen Anne floating on its 
bosom. 

Though its effects were different on the 
differently-constituted minds of those who 
witnessed the singular incident, the disap- 
pointment was general. The common 
impression was certainly unfavorable to 
the earthly character of the brigantine ; 
and when opinions of this nature once get 
possession of the ignorant, they are not 
easily removed. Even Trysail, though 
experienced in the arts of those who trifle 
with the revenue laws, was much inclined 


OF FENIMORE 


COOPER. 


to believe that this was no vulgar case of 
floating lights or false beacons, but a 
manifestation that others, besides those 
who had been regularly trained to the 
sea, were occasionally to be found on the 
waters. 

If Captain Ludlow thought differently, 
he saw no sufficient reason to enter into 
an explanation with those who were 
bound silently to obey. He paced the 
quarter-deck for many minutes; then 
issued his orders to the equally disap- 
pointed lieutenants. The light canvas of 
the Coquette was taken in, the studding- 
sail gear unrove, and the booms secured. 
The ship was brought to the wind, and 
her courses having been hauled up, the 
fore-topsail was thrown to the mast. In 
this position the cruiser lay, waiting for 
the morning light, in order to give greater 
certainty to her movements. 


—_— 


CHAPTER XIX. 


“TJ, John Turner, 
Am master and owner 
Of a high-decked schooner, 
That’s bound to Car’lina.”’ 
—COASTING SONG. 


Ir is not necessary to say, with how 
much interest Alderman Van Beverout, 
and his friend the Patroon, witnessed all 
the proceedings on board the Coquette. 
Something very like an exclamation of 
pleasure escaped the former, when it was 
known that the ship had missed the brig- 
antine, and that there was now little 
probability of overtaking her that night. 

‘©Of what use is it to chase your fire- 
flies about the ocean, Patroon?’’ mut- 
tered the Alderman, in the ear of Oloff 
Van Staats. “I have no farther knowl- 
edge of this Skimmer of the Seas, than is 
decent in the principal of a commercial 
house — but reputation is like a sky- 
rocket, that may be seen from afar! 
Her Majesty has no ship that can over- 
take the freetrader, and why fatigue the 
innocent vessel for nothing ?”’ 

‘¢ Captain Ludlow has other desires than 
the mere capture of the brigantine,”’ re- 
turned the laconic and sententious Pa- 


THE WATHR-WITCH. 


troon. ‘The opinion that Alida de 
Barberie is in her, has great influence 
with that gentleman.”’ 

“This is strange apathy, Mr. Van 
Staats, in one who is as good as engaged 
to my niece, if he be not actually mar- 
ried. Alida Barberie has great influence 
with that gentleman! And pray, with 
whom, that knows her, has she not in- 
fluence ? ”’ 

‘‘The sentiment in favor of the young 
lady in general is favorable.’’ 

«‘ Sentiment and favor! Am I to under- 
stand, sir, by this coolness, that our bar- 
gain is broken?—that the two fortunes 
are not to be brought together, and that 
the lady is not to be your wife? ”’ 

“*Harkee, Mr. Van Beverout; one who 
is saving of his income and sparing of his 
words can have no pressing necessity for 
the money of others; and, on occasion, he 
may afford to speak plainly. Your niece 
has shown so decided a preference for 
another that it has materially lessened 
the liveliness of my regard.”’ 

‘It were a pity that so much anima- 
tion should fail of its object! It would 
be a sort of stoppage in the affairs of 
Cupid! Men should deal candidly in all 
business transactions, Mr. Van Staats; 
and you will permit me to ask, for a final 
settlement, if your mind is changed in 
regard to the daughter of old Etienne de 
Barberie, or not? ”’ 

‘“Not changed, but quite decided,’’ re- 
turned the young Patroon. ‘‘I cannot 
say that I wish the successor of my 
mother to have seen so much of the 
world. We are a family that is content 
with our situation, and new customs 
would derange my household.’’ 

‘7 am no wizard, sir; but for the bene- 
fit of a son of my old friend Stephanus 
-Van Staats, I will venture, for once, on 
a prophecy. You will marry, Mr. Van 
Staats—yes, marry—and you will wive 
sir, with—prudence prevents me from say- 
ing with whom you will wive ; but you may 
‘account yourself a lucky man if it be not 
with one who will cause you to forget 
house and home, lands and friends, manors 
- and rents, and in short all the solid com- 
forts of life. It would not surprise me to 


613 


hear that the prediction of the Pough- 
keepsie fortune-teller should be fulfilled !”’ 

**And what is your real opinion, Alder- 
man Van Beverout, of the different mys- 
terious events we have witnessed ?”’ de- 
manded the Patroon, ina manner to prove 
that the interest he took in the subject 
completely smothered any displeasure he 
might otherwise have felt at so harsh a 
prophecy. ‘‘This sea-green lady is no 
common woman ?”’ 

*‘Sea-green and sky-blue !’’ interrupted 
the impatient burgher. ‘‘ The hussy is 
but too common, sir; and there is the 
calamity. Had she been satisfied with 
transacting her concerns in a snug and 
reasonable manner, and to have gone 
upon the high seas again, we should have 
had none of this foolery to disturb accounts 
which ought to have been considered set- 
tled. Mr. Van Staats, will you allow me 
to ask a few direct questions, if you can 
find leisure for their answer ? ”’ 

The Patroon nodded his head in the 
affirmative. 

«What do you suppose, sir, to have 
become of my niece ? ”’ 

** Kloped.’’ 

«¢ And with whom ?”’ 

Van Staats of Kinderhook stretched an 
arm toward the open ocean, and again 
nodded. The Alderman mused a moment ; 
then he chuckled, as if some amusing idea 
had got the better of his ill humor. 

“Come, come, Patroon,’’ he said in his 
wonted amicable tone, when addressing 
the lord of a hundred thousand acres, 
‘‘this business is like a complicated ac- 
count, a little difficult till one gets ac- 
quainted with the books, when all becomes 
plain as your hand. There were referees 
in the estate of Kobus Van Klinck, whom 
I will not name; but what between the 
handwriting of the old grocer, and some 
inaccuracy in the figures, they had but a 
blind time of it until they discovered which 
way the balance ought to come; then by 
working backward and forward, which is 
the true spirit of your just referee, they 
got all straight in the end. Kobus was 
not very lucid in his statements, and he 
was a little apt to be careless of ink. His 
ledger might be called a book of the 


614 


black art; for it was little else than fly- 
tracks and blots, though the last were 
found of great assistance in rendering the 
statements satisfactory. By calling three 
of the biggest of them sugar-hogheads, a 
very fair balance was struck between him 
and a peddling Yankee who was breeding 
trouble for the estate; and I challenge, 
even at this distant day, when all near in- 
terests in the results may be said to sleep, 
any responsible man to say that they did 
not look as much like those articles as 
anything else. Something they must 
have been, and as Kobus dealt largely in 
sugar, there was also a strong moral 
probability that they were the said hogs- 
heads. Come, come, Patroon; we shall 
have the jade back again in proper time. 
Thy ardor gets the better of reason; but 
this is the way with true love, which is 
none the worse for a little delay. Alida 
is not one to balk thy merriment; these 
Norman wenches are not heavy of foot at 
a dance, or apt to go to sleep when the 
fiddles are stirring! ”’ 

With this consolation, Alderman Van 
Beverout saw fit to close the dialogue, 
for themoment. How far hesucceeded in 
bringing back the mind of the Patroon to 
his allegiance, the result must show; 
though we shall take this occasion to 
observe again that the young proprietor 
found a satisfaction in the excitement of 
the present scene that, in the course of a 
short and little diversified life, he had 
never before experienced. 

While others slept, Ludlow passed most 
of the night on deck. He laid himself 
down in the hammock-cloths, for an hour 
or two, as the night wore on; though the 
wind did not sigh through the rigging 
louder than common without arousing 
him from his slumbers. At each low call 
of the officer of the watch to the crew, his 
head was raised to glance around the nar- 
row horizon; and the ship never rolled 
heavily without causing him to awake. 
He believed that the brigantine was near, 
and, for the first watch, he was not with- 
out expectation that the two vessels 
might unexpectedly meet in the obscurity. 
When this hope failed, the young seaman 
had recourse to artifice in his turn, in 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


order to entrap one who appeared so prac- 
ticed and so expert in the devices of the 
sea. 

About midnight, when the watches were 
changed, and the whole crew, with the ex- 
ception of the idlers, were on deck, orders 
were given to hoist out the boats. This 
operation, one of exceeding toil and diffi- 
culty in lightly-manned ships, was soon 
performed on board the Queen’s cruiser, by 
the aid of yard and stay-tackles, to which 
the force of a hundred seamen was applied. 
When four of these little attendants on 
the ship were in the water, they were 
entered by their crews, prepared for ser- 
vice. Officers on whom Ludlow could rely 
were put in command of the three small- 
est, while he took charge of the fourth in 
person. When all were ready, and each 
inferior had received his especial instruc- 
tion, they quitted the side of the vessel, 
pulling off in diverging lines in the gloom 
of the ocean. The boat of Ludlow had 
not gone fifty fathoms before he was per- 
fectly conscious of the inutility of a chase ; 


for the obscurity of the night was so great — 


as to render the spars of his own ship 
nearly indistinct, even at that short dis- 
tance. After pulling by compass some 
ten or fifteen minutes, in a direction that 
carried him to windward of the Coquette, 
the young man commanded the crew to 
cease rowing, and prepared himself to wait 
patiently for the result of his undertaking. 

There was nothing to vary the monotony 
of such a scene for an hour, but the regular 
rolling of asea that was but little agitated, 
a few occasional strokes of the oars that 
were given in order to keep the barge in 
its place, or the heavy breathing of some 
smaller fish of the cetaceous kind, as it 
rose to the surface to inhale the atmos- 
phere. 
anything visible; not even a star was 
peeping out to cheer the solitude and 
silence of that solitary place. The men 
were nodding on the thwarts, and our 
young sailor was about to relinquish his 
design as fruitless, when suddenly a noise 
was heard at no great distance from the 
spot where they lay. It was one of those 
sounds which would have been inexplicable 
to any but a seaman, but which conveyed 


In no quarter of the heavens was > 


| 
. 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


a meaning to the ears of Ludlow, as plain 
as that which could be imparted by speech 
to a landsman. A moaning creak was 
followed by the low rumbling of a rope, as 
it rubbed on some hard or distended sub- 
stance; then succeeded the heavy flap of 
canvas, that, yielding first to a powerful 
impulse, was suddenly checked. 

“Hear ye that?’’ exclaimed Ludlow, a 
little above a whisper. ‘‘’Tis the brigan- 
tine jibbing his main-boom! Give way, 
men—see all ready to lay him aboard !”’ 

The crew started from their slumbers ; 
the plash of oars was heard, and in the 
succeeding moment the sails: of a vessel 
gliding through the obscurity, nearly 
across their course, were visible. 

‘“* Now spring to your oars, men!’’ con- 
tinued Ludlow, with the eagerness of one 
engaged in chase. ‘‘We have him to 
advantage and he is ours!—a long pull 
and a strong pull—steadily, boys, and 
together ! ”’ 

The practiced crew did their duty. It 
- Seemed but a moment before they were 
close upon the chase. 

** Another stroke of the oars and she is 
ours!’’ cried Ludlow. <‘ Grapple !—to 
your arms !—away, boarders, away !”’ 

These orders came on the ears of the 
men with the effect of martial blasts. The 
crew shouted, the clashing of arms was 
heard, and the tramp of feet upon the deck 
of the vessel announced the success of the 
enterprise. A minute of extreme activ- 
ity and of noisy confusion followed. The 
cheers of the boarders had been heard at 
a distance ; and rockets shot into the air 
from the other boats, whose crews an- 
swered the shouts with manful lungs. 
The whole ocean appeared in a momentary 
glow, and the roar of a gun from the 
Coquette added to the fracas. The ship 
set several lanterns, in order to indicate 
her position; while blue-lights and other 
marine signals were constantly burning 
in the approaching boats, as if those who 
guided them were anxious to intimidate 
the assailed by a show of numbers. 

In the midst of this scene of sudden 
awakening from the most profound quiet, 
Ludlow began to look about him in order 
to secure the principal objects of the cap- 


ture. 
entering the cabins, and concerning the 
person of the Skimmer of the Seas, among 
the other instructions given to the crews 
of the different boats; and the instant 
they found themselves in quiet possession 
of the prize, the young man dashed into 
the private recesses of the vessel, with a 
heart that throbbed even more violently 
than during the ardor of boarding. To 


615 


He had repeated his orders about 


cast open the door of a cabin beneath the 


high quarter-deck, and to descend to the 


levei of its floor, were the acts of a mo- 
ment. But disappointment and mortifica- 
tion succeeded to triumph. <A_ second 


glance was not necessary to show that the 


coarse work and foul smells he saw and 
encountered did not belong to the commo- 
dious and even elegant accommodations of 


the brigantine. 


‘“‘Here is no Water-Witch!’’ he ex- 
claimed aloud, under the impulse of sudden 
surprise. 

“‘God be praised!’ returned a voice, 
which was succeeded by a frightened face 
from a stateroom. ‘‘ We were told the 
Rover was in the offing, and thought the 
yells could come from nothing human! ”’ 

~The blood which had been rushing 
through the arteries and veins of Ludlow 
so tumultuously, now crept into his cheeks, 
and was felt tingling at his fingers’ ends. 
He gave a hurried order to his men to re- 
enter their boat, leaving everything as 
they found it. A short conference between 
the commander of her Majesty’s ship Qo- 
quette and the seaman of the stateroom 
succeeded ; then the former hastened on 
deck, whence his passage into the barge 
occupied but a moment. The boat pulled 
away from the fancied prize amid a silence 
that was uninterrupted by any other sound 
than that of a song, which, to all appear- 
ance, came from one who by this time had 
placed himself at the vessel’s helm. All 
that can be said of the music is that it was 
suited to the words, and all that could be 
heard of the latter was a portion of a verse, 
if verse it might be called, which had 
exercised the talents of some thoroughly 
nautical mind. As we depend for the 
accuracy of the quotation altogether on 
the fidelity of the journal of the midship- 


616 WORKS 


man already named, it is possible that 
some injustice may be done the writer ; 
but, according to that document, he sang 
a strain of the coasting song which we 
have prefixed to this chapter as its motto. 

The papers of the coaster did not give 
a more detailed description of her charac- 
ter and pursuits than that which is con- 
tained in this verse. It is certain that the 
log-book of the Coquette was far less 
explicit. The latter merely said that ‘‘ A 
coaster called the Stately Pine, John Tur- 
ner, master, bound from New York to the 
Province of North Carolina, was boarded 
at one o’clock in the morning ; all well.’’ 
But this description was not of a nature 
to satisfy the seamen of the cruiser. 
Those who had been actually engaged 
in the expedition were much too excited 
to see things in their true colors; and 
coupled with the two previous escapes of 
the Water-Wrtch, the event just related 
had no small share in confirming their 
former opinions concerning her character. 
The sailing-master was not now alone in 
believing that all pursuit of the brigantine 
was useless. 

But these were conclusions that the 
people of the Coquette made at their 
leisure, rather than those which sug- 
gested themselves on the instant. The 
boats, led by the flashes of light, had 
joined each other, and were rowing fast 
toward the ship before the pulses of the 
actors beat with sufficient calmness to 
admit of reflection; nor was it until the 
adventurers were below, and in their 
hammocks, that they found suitable oc- 
casion to relate what had occurred to a 
wondering auditory. Robert Yarn, the 
fore-topman who had felt the locks of the 
Ssea-green lady blowing in his face during 
the squall, took advantage of the circum- 
stance to dilate on his experiences ; and 
after having advanced certain positions 
that particularly favored his own theories, 
he produced one of the crew of the barge 
who stood ready to affirm, in any court in 
Christendom, that he actually saw the 
process of changing the beautiful and 
graceful lines that distinguished the hull 
of the smuggler into the coarser and more 
clumsy model of the coaster. 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


‘There are know-nothings,” continued 
Robert, after he had fortified his position 
by the testimony in question, ‘‘ who would 
deny that the water of the ocean is blue, 
because the stream that turns the parish 
mill happens to be muddy. But your real 
mariner, who has lived much in foreign 
parts, is a man who understands the phi- 
losophy of life, and knows when to believe 
a truth and when to scorn a lie. As for 
avessel changing her character when hard 
pushed in a chase, there are many in- 
stances ; though, having one so near us, 
there is less necessity to be roving over 
distant seas in search of a case to prove 
it. My own opinion concerning this here 
brigantine is much as follows: that is to 
say, I do suppose there was once a real 
living hermaphrodite of her build and rig ; 
and that she might be employed in some 
such trade as this craft is thought to be 
in; and that, in some unlucky hour, she 
and her people met with a mishap that 
has condemned her ever since to appear 
on this coast at stated times. She has, 
however, a natural dislike to a royal 
cruiser; and, no doubt, the thing is now 
sailed by those who have little need of 
compass or observation. All this being 
true, it is not wonderful that when the 
boat’s crew got on her decks they found 
her different from what they expected. 
This much is certain, that when I lay 
within a boat-hook’s length of her sprit- 
sail-yardarm, she was a half-rig, with a 
woman figure-head, and as pretty in show 
of gear aloft as eye ever looked upon; 
while everything below was as snug as a 
tobacco-box with the lid down; and here 
you all say that she is a high-decked 
schooner, with nothing ship-shape about 
her! What more is wanting to prove the 


truth of what has been stated ?—if any 4g 


man can gainsay it, let him speak.” 

As no man did gainsay it, it is pre- 
sumed that the reasoning of the topman 
gained many proselytes. It is scarcely 
necessary to add how much of mystery 
and fearful interest was thrown around 
the redoubted Skimmer of the Seas by 
the whole transaction. 

There was a different feeling on the 


‘quarter-deck. The two lieutenants put 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


their heads together and looked grave ; 
while one or two of the midshipmen, 
who had been in the boats, were ob- 
served to whisper with their messmates, 
and to indulge in smothered laughter. 
As the Captain, however, maintained 
his ordinary dignified and authoritative 
mien, the merriment went no farther, 
and was soon repressed. 

While on this subject it may be prop- 
er to add that, in course of time, the 
Stately Pine reached the capes of North 
Carolina in safety; and that, having 
effected her passage over Edenton bar 
without striking, she ascended the river 
to the point of her destination. Here the 
crew soon began to throw out hints rel- 
ative to an encounter of their schooner 
with a French cruiser. As the British 
Empire, even its most remote corner, was 
at all times alive to its nautical glory, the 
event soon became the discourse in more 
distant parts of the colony; and in less 
than six months the London journals con- 
tained a very glowing account of an en- 
gagement, in which the names of the 
Stately Pine, and of John Turner; made 
some respectable advance toward immor- 
tality. 

If Captain Ludlow ever gave any 
farther account of the transaction than 
what was stated in the log-book of his 
ship, the bienseance observed by the 
Lords of the Admiralty prevented it from 
becoming public. 

Returning from this digression, which 
has no other connection with the imme- 
diate thread of the narrative than that 
which arises from a reflected interest, we 
shall revert to the farther proceedings on 
board the cruiser. 

When the Coquette hoisted in her boats, 
that portion of the crew which did not be- 
long to the watch was dismissed to their 
hammocks, the lights were lowered, and 
tranquillity once more reigned in the ship. 
Ludlow sought his rest, and although 
there is reason to think that his slumbers 
were a little disturbed by dreams, he re- 
mained tolerably quiet in the hammock- 
cloths, the place in which it has already 
been said he saw fit to take his repose, 
until the morning watch was called. 


617 


Although the utmost vigilance was ob- 
served among the officers and lookouts, 
during the rest of the night, there occurred 
nothing to arouse the crew from their usual 
recumbent attitudes between the guns. 
The wind continued light but steady, the 
sea smooth, and the heavens clouded, as 
during the first hours of darkness. 


CHAPTER XX. 


“The mouse ne’er shunned the cat, as they did budge 
From rascals worse than they.’””—CoRIOLANUS. 


Day dawned on the Atlantic with its 
pearly light, succeeded by the usual flush- 
ing of the skies, and the stately rising of 
the sun from out the water. The instant 
the vigilant officer who commanded the 
morning watch caught the first glimpses 
of the returning brightness, Ludlow was 
awakened. <A finger laid on his arm was 
sufficient to arouse one who slept with the 
responsibility of his station ever present 
to his mind. A minute did not pass be- 
fore the young man was on the quarter- 
deck, closely examining the heavens and 
the horizon. His first question was to ask 
if nothing had been seen during the watch. 
The answer was in the negative. 

‘*T like this opening in the northwest,” 
observed the Captain, after his eye had 
thoroughly scanned the whole of the still 
dusky and limited view. ‘*‘ Wind will 
come out of it. Give us a capful, and 
we shall try the speed of this boasted 
Water-Witch! Do I not see a sail on our 
weather-beam ?—or is it the crest of a 
wave ?”’ 

«The sea is getting irregular, and Ihave 
often been thus deceived, since the light 
appeared.”’ ae 

‘‘Get more sailonthe ship. Here is . 
wind in-shore of us; we will be ready for 
it. See everything clear to show all our 
canvas.’’ 

The lieutenant received these orders 
with the customary deference, and com- 
municated them to his inferiors again, 
with a promptitude that distinguishes sea 
discipline. The Coquette, at the moment, 
was lying under her three topsails, one of 
which -was thrown against the mast, in a 


618 WORKS OF 


manner to hold the vessel as nearly sta- 
tionary as the drift and the wash of the 
waves would allow. So soon, however, as 
the officer of the watch summoned the 
people to exertion, the massive yards were 
swung; several light sails that served to 
balance the fabric as well as to urge it 
ahead, were hoisted or opened; and the 
ship immediately began to move through 
the water. While the men of the watch 
were thus employed, the flapping of the 
canvas announced the near approach of a 
new breeze. 

The coast of North America is liable to 
sudden and dangerous transitions in the 
currents of the air. It is a circumstance 
of no unusual occurrence for a gale to 
alter its direction with so little warning 
as greatly to jeopard the safety of a ship, 
or even to overwhelm her. It has been 
often said that the celebrated Ville de 
Paris was lost through one of these 
violent changes, her captain having inad- 
vertently hove-to the vessel under too 
much after-sail, a mistake by which he 
lost command of his ship during the press- 
ing emergency that ensued. Whatever 
may have been the fact as regards that 
ill-fated prize, it was certain that Ludlow 
was perfectly aware of the hazards that 
sometimes accompany the first blasts of a 
northwest wind on his native coast, and 
that he never forgot to be prepared for 
the danger. 

When the wind from the land struck 
the Coquette, the streak of light, which 
announced the appearance of the sun, had 
been visible for several minutes. As the 
broad sheets of vapor, that had veiled the 
heavens during the prevalence of the 
southeasterly breeze, were rolled up into 
dense masses of clouds, like some immense 
curtain that is withdrawn from before its 
scene, the water, no less than the sky, 
became instantly visible in every quarter. 
It is scarcely necessary to say, how ea- 
gerly the gaze of our young seaman ran 
over the horizon, in order to observe the 
objects which might come within its 
range. At first, disappointment was 
plainly painted in his countenance; then 
succeeded the animated eye and flushed 
cheek of success. 


FENIMORE COOPER. 


‘Thad thought her gone!” he said to 
his immediate subordinate in authority. 
‘‘But here she is, to leeward, just within 
the edge of that driving mist, and as 
dead under our lee as a kind fortune can 
place her. Keep the ship away, sir, and 
cover her with canvas, from her trucks 
down. Call the people from their ham- 
mocks, and show yon insolent what her 
Majesty’s sloop can do at need !”’ 

This command was the commencement 
of a general and hasty movement, in 
which every seaman in the ship exerted 
his powers to the utmost. All hands» 
were no sooner called than the depths of 
the vessel gave up their tenants, who, 
joining their force to that of the watch 
on deck, quickly covered the spars of the 
Coquette with a snow-white cloud. Not 
content to catch the breeze on such sur- 
faces as the ordinary yards could distend, 
long booms were thrust out over the 
water, and sail was set beyond sail, 
until the bending masts would bear no 
more. The low hull which supported this 
towering and complicated mass of ropes, 
spars, and sails, yielded to the powerful 
impulse, and the fabric, which, in addi- 
tion to its crowd of human beings, sus- 
tained so heavy a load of artillery, with 


all its burden of stores and ammunition, — 


began to divide the waves with the steady 
and imposing force of a vast momentum. 
The seas curled and broke against her 
sides, like water washing the rocks, the 
steady ship feeling, as yet, no impression 
from their feeble efforts. As the wind 
increased, however, and the vessel went 
farther from the land, the surface of the 
ocean gradually grew more agitated, 
until the highlands, which lay over the 
villa of the Lust in Rust, finally sank into 


the sea, when the topgallant royals of 4 


the ship were seen describing wide seg- 
ments of circles against the heavens, and 
her dark sides occasionally rose, from a 
long and deep roll, glittering with the 
element that sustained her. 

When Ludlow first descried the object 
which he believed to be the chase, it 
seemed a motionless speck on the’ margin 
of the sea. It had now grown into the 


magnitude and symmetry of the well- 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


known brigantine. 
uated spars were plainly to be seen, roll- 
ing easily but wide with the constant 
movement of the huli, and with no sail 
spread but that which was necessary to 
keep the vessel in command on the bil- 
lows. When the Coquette was just with- 
in the range of a cannon, the canvas began 
to unfold ; and it was soon apparent that 
the Skimmer of the Seas was preparing 
to fight. 

The first maneuver of the Water- Witch 
was an attempt to gain the wind on her 
pursuer. <A short experiment appeared 
to satisfy those who governed the brigan- 
tine that the effort was vain while the 
wind was so fresh and the water so rough. 
She wore, and crowded sail on the oppo- 
site tack, in order to try her speed with 
the cruiser ; nor was it until the result 
sufficiently showed the danger of permit- 
ting the other to get any nigher that she 
finally put her helm a-weather, and ran 
off, like a sea-fowl resting on its wing, 
with the wind over her taffrail. 

The two vessels now presented the 
spectacle of a stern chase. The brigan- 
tine also opened the folds of all her sails, 
and there arose a pyramid of canvas over 
the nearly imperceptible hull, that resem- 
bled a fantastic cloud driving above the 
sea, with a velocity that seemed to rival 
the passage of the vapor that floated in 
the upper air. As equal skill directed the 
movements of the two vessels, and the 
Same breeze pressed upon their sails, it 
was long before there was any perceptible 
difference in their progress. Hour passed 
after hour, and were it not for the sheets 
of white foam that was dashed from the 
bows of the Coquette, and the manner in 
which she even out-stripped the caps of 
the combing waves, her commander might 
have fancied his vessel ever in the same 
spot. While the ocean presented, on 
every side, the same monotonous and roll- 
ing picture, there lay the chase, seemingly 
neither a foot nearer nor a foot farther 
than when the trial of speed began. A 
dark line would rise on the crest of a wave, 
and then, sinking again, leave nothing 
visible but the yielding and waving cloud 
of canvas that danced along the sea. 


Her slight and atten |! 


619 


‘IT had hoped for better things of the 
ship, Master Trysail!’’ said Ludlow, who 
had long been seated on a knighthead, 
attentively watching the progress of the 
chase. ‘‘ We are buried to the bob-stays ; 
yet, there yon fellow lies, nothing plainer 
than when he first showed his studding- 
sails !”’ 

‘* And there he will lie, Captain Ludlow, 
while the light lasts. I have chased the 
rover in the narrow seas, till the cliffs of 
Engiand melted away like the cap of a 
wave, and we had raised the sand banks 
of Holland as high as the sprit-sailyard ; 
yet what good came of it! The rogue 
played with us, as your sportsman trifles 
with the entangled trout; and when we 
thought we had him he would shoot with- 
out the range of our guns, with as little 
exertion aS a ship slides into the water 
after the spur shoars are knocked from 
under her bows.’’ 

“Aye, but the Druid had a little of 
the rust of antiquity about her. The Co- 
quette has never got a chase under her 
lee that she did not speak.’’ 

‘‘T disparage no ship, sir, for character 
is character and none should speak light- 
ly of their fellow-creatures, and least of 
all, of anything that follows the sea. I 
allow the Coquette to be a lively boat on 
a wind, and a real scudder going large; 
but one should know the wright that 
fashioned yonder brigantine before he 
ventured to say that any vessel in her 
Majesty’s fleet can hold way with her, - 
when she is driven hard.’’ 

‘‘These opinions, Trysail, are fitter for 
the tales of a top than for the mouth of 
one who walks the quarter-deck.”’ 

‘1 should have lived to little purpose, 
Captain Ludlow, not to know that what 
was philosophy in my younger days is not 
philosophy now. They say the earth is 
round, which is my own opinion—first, be- 
cause the glorious Sir Francis Drake, and 
divers other Englishmen, have gone in, asit 
were, at one end and out at the other; no 
less than several seamen of other nations, 
to say nothing of one Magellan, who pre- 
tends to have been the first man to make 
the passage, which I take to be nothing 
more nor less than a Portugee lie, it being 


620 


altogether unreasonable to suppose that a 
Portugee should do what an Englishman 
had not yet thought of doing; secondly, 
if the world were not round, or some such 
shape, why should we see the smali sails 
of a ship before her courses, or why 
should her truck heave up into the hori- 
zon before the hull? They say, moreover, 
that the world turns round, which is no 
doubt true; and it is just as true that its 
opinions turn round with it, which brings 
me to the object of my remark—yon fel- 
low shows more of his broadside, sir, than 
common! He is edging in for the land, 
which must lie here-away on our lar- 
. board beam, in order to get into smoother 
water. This tumbling about is not favor- 
able to your light craft, let who will build 
them.’’ 

‘*T had hoped to drive him off the coast. 
Could we get him fairly into the Gulf 
Stream, he would be ours, for he is too 
low in the water to escape us in the short 
seas. We must force him into blue water, 
though our upper spars crack in the 
struggle! Go aft, Mr. Hopper, and tell 
the officer of the watch to bring the 
Ship’s head up, a point and a half, to the 
northward, and to give a slight pull on 
‘the braces.”’ 

“What a mainsail the rogue carries ! 
it is as broad as the instructions of a 
roving commission, with a hoist like the 
promotion of an admiral’s son! How 
everything pulls aboard him! A thor- 
oughbred sails that brigantine, let him 
come whence he may !”’ 

“JT think we near him! The rough 
water is helping us, and we are closing. 
Steer small, fellow; steer small! You 
see the color of his moldings begins to 
show, when he lifts on the seas.”’ 

“The sun touches his side—yet, Cap- 
tain Ludlow, you may be right—for here 
is a man in his foretop, plainly enough to 
be seen. - A shot or two, among his spars 
and sails, might now do service.’’ 

Ludlow affected not to hear; but the 
first lieutenant having come on the fore- 
castle, seconded this opinion by remark- 
ing that their position would indeed en- 
able them to use the chase-gun, without 
losing any distance. As Trysail sustained 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


ree 
1 


his former assertion by truths that were 
too obvious to be refuted, the commander 
of the cruiser reluctantly issued an order 
to clear away the forward gun, and to 
shift it into the bridle-port. The inter- 
ested and attentive seamen were not 
long in performing this service; and a 
report was quickly made to the Captain 
that the piece was ready. 

Ludlow then descended from his post on 
the knighthead, and pointed the cannon 
himself. 

“Knock away the quoin entirely,”’ he 
said to the captain of the gun, when he 
had got the range; ‘*now mind her when 
she lifts forward; keep the ship steady, 
sir—fire ! ” 

Those gentlemen ‘ who live at home at 
ease,’’ are often surprised to read of com- 
bats in which so much powder, and hun- 
dreds and even thousands of shot are 
expended, with so little loss of human life ; 
while a struggle on the land of less dura- 
tion, and seemingly of less obstinacy, shall 
Sweep away a multitude. The secret of 
the difference lies in the uncertainty of 
aim on an element as restless as the sea. 


j bad 


f 


The largest ship is rarely quite motionless, — 


when on the open ocean; and it is not 
necessary to tell the reader that the small-. 
est variation in the direction of a gun at 
its muzzle becomes magnified to many 
yards at the distance of a few hundred 
feet. Marine gunnery has no little resem- 
blance to the skill of the fowler; since a 
calculation for a change in the position of 
the object must commonly be made in 
both cases, with the additional embarrass- 
ment on the part of the seaman of an 
allowance for a complicated movement in 
the piece itself. 

How far the gun of the Coquette was 
subject to the influence of these causes, or 
how far the desire of her captain to pro- 
tect those whom he believed to be on board 
the brigantine had an effect on the direc- 
tion taken by its shot, will probably never 
be known. It is certain, however, that 
when the stream of fire, followed by its’ 
curling cloud, had flashed out upon the 
water, fifty eyes sought in vain to trace 
the course of the iron messenger among 
the sails and rigging of the Water- Witch. 


Lf 
‘@ 


| 
i 
*@ 
ne ' 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


The symmetry of her beautiful rig was un- 
disturbed, and the unconscious fabric still 
glided over the waves with its customary 
ease and velocity. Ludlow had a reputa- 
tion among his crew for some skill in the 
direction ofa gun. The failure, therefore, 
in no degree aided in changing the opinions 
of the common men concerning the char- 
acter of the chase. Many shook their 
heads, and more than one veteran tar, as 
he paced his narrow limits with both 
hands thrust into the bosom of his jacket, 
was heard to utter his belief of the ineffi- 
cacy of ordinary shot in bringing to that 
brigantine. It was necessary, however, 
to repeat the experiment for the sake of 
appearances. The gun was several times 
discharged, and always with the same 
want of success. 

*« There is little use in wasting our pow- 
der, at this distance, and with so heavy a 
sea,’’ said Ludlow, quitting the cannon, 
after a fifth and fruitless essay. ‘‘I shall 
fire no more. Look at your sails, gentle- 
men, and see that everything draws. We 
must conquer with our heels and let the 
artillery rest. Secure the gun.”’ 

«‘The piece is ready, sir,’’ observed its 
captain, presuming on his known favor 
with the commander, though he qualified 
the boldness by taking off his hat, in a 
sufficiently respectful manner; ‘‘’tis a 
pity to balk it ! ’’ 

«Fire it yourself, then, and return the 
piece to its port,’’ carelessly returned the 
‘Captain, willing to show that others could 
be as unlucky as himself. 

The men quartered at the gun, left 
alone, busied themselves in executing the 
order. 

‘«*Run in the quoin, and, blast the brig, 
give her a point blanker!’’ said the bluff 
old seaman who was intrusted with a local 
authority over that particular piece. 
«None of your geometry calculations for 
me !”’ 

The crew obeyed, and the match was 
instantly applied. A rising sea, however, 
aided the object of the directly-minded old 
tar, or our narration of the exploits of the 
piece would end with the discharge, since 
its shot would otherwise have inevitably 
’ plunged into a wave within a few yards 


621 


of its muzzle. The bows of the ship rose 
with the appearance of the smoke, the 
usual brief expectation followed, then frag- 
ments of wood were seen flying above the 
topmast-studding-sail-boom of the brig- 
antine, which, at the same time, flew for- 
ward, carrying with it, and entirely de- 
ranging the two important sails that 
depended on the spar for support. 

‘©So much for plain sailing !’’ cried the 
delighted old tar, slapping the breech of 
the gun affectionately. Witch or no witch, 
there go two of her jackets at once; and 
by the Captain’s good will, we shall shortly 
take off some more of her clothes! In 
sponge is 
. The order is to run the gun aft, and 
secure it,’? saida merry midshipman, leap- 
ing on the heel of the bowsprit to gaze at 
the confusion on board the chase. ‘The 
rogue is nimble enough in saving his can- 
Was] 24 

There was, in truth, necessity for ex- 
ertion on the part of those who governed 
the movements of the brigantine. The 
two sails that were rendered temporarily 
useless were of great importance, with the 
wind over the taffrail. The distance be- 
tween the two vessels did not exceed a 
mile, and the danger of lessening it was 
too obvious to admit of delay. The ordi- 
nary movements of seamen in critical mo- 
ments are dictated by a quality that 
resembles instinct more than thought. 
The constant hazards of a dangerous and 
delicate profession, in which delay may 
prove fatal, and in which life, character 
and property are so often dependent on 
the self-possession and resources of him 
who commands, beget in time so keen a 
knowledge of the necessary expedients as 
to cause it to approach a natural quality. 

The studding-sails of the Water-Witch 
were no sooner fluttering in the air, than 
the brigantine slightly changed her course, 
like some bird whose wing had been 
touched by the fowler; and her head was 
seen inclining as much to the southas a 
moment before it had pointed northward. 
The variation, trifling as it was, brought 
the wind on the opposite quarter, and 
caused the boom that distended her main- 
sail to jibe. At the same instant, the 


622 


studding-sails, which had been flapping 
under the lee of this vast sheet of canvas, 
swelled to their utmost tension ; and the 
vessel lost little, if any, of the power 
which urged her through the water. 
Even while this evolution was so rapidly 
performed, men were seen aloft, nimbly 
employed, asit has been already expressed 
by the observant little midshipman, in 
securing the crippled sails. 

“The rogue has a quick wit,’’ said Try- 
sail, whose critical eye suffered no move- 
ment of the chase to escape him; ‘‘ and 
he has need of it, sail from what haven he 
may! Yon brigantine is prettily handled ! 
Little have we gained by our fire but the 
gunner’s account of ammunition expended; 
and little has the freetrader lost but a 
studding-sail-boom, which will work up 
very well yet into topgallant yards, and 
other light spars, for such a cockle-shell.’’ 

“<It is something gained to force him off 
the land into rougher water,’’ Ludlow 
mildly answered. ‘‘I think we see his 
quarter-pieces more plainly than before 
the gun was used.”’ 

‘No doubt, sir, no doubt. I got a. 
glimpse of his lower dead-eyes a minute 
ago; but I have not been near enough to 
see the saucy look of the hussy under his 
bowsprit ; yet there goes the brigantine, 
at large !’’ 

“IT am certain that we are closing,’’ 
thoughtfully returned Ludlow. ‘‘ Hand 
me the glass, quartermaster. ”’ 

Trysail watched the countenance of his 
young commander as he examined the 
chase with the aid of the instrument ; 
and he thought he read strong discon- 
tent in his features when the other laid it 
aside. 

«<Does he show no signs of coming back 
to his allegiance, sir, or does the rogue 
hold out in obstinacy ? ”’ 

‘¢' The figure on his poop is the bold man 
who ventured on board the Coquette, and 
who now seems quite as much at his ease 
as when he exhibited his effrontery here ! ”’ 

“‘ There is a look of deep water about 
that rogue; and I thought that her Maj- 
esty had gained a prize when he first put 
foot on our decks. Youare right enough, 
sir, in calling him a bold one!. The fel- 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


low’s impudence would unsettle the disci- 
pline of a whole ship’s company, though 
every other man were an officer, and all 
the rest priests. He took up as much room 
in walking the quarter-deck as a ninety in 
wearing; and the truck is not driven on 
the head of that topgallant-mast half as 
hard as the hat is riveted to his head. 
The fellow has no reverence for a pennant ! 
I managed, in shifting pennants at sunset, 
to make the fly of the one that came down 
flap in his impudent countenance, by way 
of a hint; and he took it as a Dutchman 
takes a signal—that is, as a question to be 
answered in the next watch. A little 
polish got on the quarter-deck of a man- 
of-war would make a philosopher of the 
rogue, and fit him for any company short 
of heaven! ’’ 

‘There goes a new boom aloft!’ cried 
Ludlow, interrupting the discursive dis- 
course of the master. ‘‘ He is bent on 
getting in with the shore.” 

‘Tf these puffs come much heavier,”’ re- 


turned the master, whose opinions of the ~ 


chase vacillated with his professional feel- 
ings, ‘‘ we shall have him at our own play, 
and try the qualities of his. brigantine. 
The sea has a green spot to windward, 
and there are strong symptoms of a 
squall on the water. One can almost see 
into the upper world, with an air clear as 
this. 
America, and leave both sea and land 
bright as a school-boy’s face, before the 


tears have dimmed it, after the first flog-. 


ging. You have sailed in the southern 
seas, Captain Ludlow, I know; for we 
were shipmates among the islands, years 
that are passed; but I never heard 
whether you have run the Gibraltar pas- 
sage, and seen the blue water that lies 
among the Italy mountains ? ”’ 


‘‘T made a cruise against the Barbary — 


states when a lad; and we had business 
that took us to the northern shore.’ 
‘Aye! ’Tis your northern shore I 
mean ! 
the rock at the entrance to the Faro of 
Messina, that eye of mine hath not seen. 
No want of lookouts and landmarks in 
that quarter! Here we are close aboard 


of America, which lies some eight or ten ~ 


Your northers sweep the mists off. 


There is not a foot of it all, from 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


leagues there-away to the northward of 
us, and some forty astern; and yet, if it 
were not for our departure, with the color 
of the water, and a knowledge of the 
soundings, one might believe himself in 
the middle of the Atlantic. Many a good 
ship plumps upon America before she 
knows where she is going; while in yon 
sea you may run for a mountain, with its 
side in full view, four-and-twenty hours 
on a stretch, before you see the town at 
its foot.”’ 

““Nature has compensated for the dif- 
ference, in defending the approach to this 
coast by the Gulf Stream, with its floating 
weeds and different temperature; while 
the lead may feel its way in the darkest 
night, for no roof of a house is more grad- 
ual than the ascent of this shore, from a 
hundred fathoms to a sandy beach.”’ 

‘‘T said many a good ship, Captain Lud- 
low, and not good navigator. No, no, 
your thoroughbred knows the difference 
between green water and the blue, as well 
as between a hand-lead and the deep sea. 
But I remember to have missed an obser- 
vation, once, when running for Genoa, be- 
fore a mistral. There was a likelihood of 
making our landfall in the night, and the 
greater the need of knowing the ship’s 
position. Ihave often thought, sir, that 
the ocean was like human life—a blind 
track for all that is ahead, and none of the 
clearest as respects that which has been 
passed over. Many a man runs headlong 
to his own destruction, and many a ship 
steers for a reef under a press of canvas. 
To-morrow is a fog, into which none of 
us can see; and even thie present time is 
little better than thick weather, into 
which we look without getting much 
information. Well,as I was observing, 
here lay our course, with the wind as near 
aft as need be, blowing much as at pres- 
ent; for your French mistral has a fam- 
ily likeness to the American norther. We 
had the maintopgallant-sail set, without 
studding-sails, for we began to think of 
the deep bight in which Genoa is stowed, 
andthe sun had dipped more than an hour. 
As our good fortune would have it, clouds 
and mistrals do not agree long, and we 
got a clear horizon. Here lay a mountain 


623 


of snow, northerly, a little west, and 
there lay another, southerly with easting. 
The best ship in Queen Anne’s navy 
could not have fetched either in a day’s 
run, yet there we saw them, as plainly 
as if anchored under their lee! A look 
at the chart soon gave us an insight 
into our situation. The first were the 
Alps, as they call them, being as I sup- 
pose the French for apes, of which there 
are no doubt plenty in those regions ; 
and the other were the highlands of 
Corsica, both being as white, in midsum- 
mer, as the hair of a man of four-score. 
You see, sir, we had only to set the 
two, by compass, to know, within a 
league or two, where we were. So we 
ran till midnight, and hove-to; in the 
morning we took the light to feel for 
our haven e 

«The brigantine is jibbing again!” 
eried Ludlow. ‘‘He is determined to 
shoal his water ! ’’ 

The master glanced an eye around the 
horizon, and then pointed steadily toward 
the north. Ludlow observed the gesture, 
and, turning his head, he was at no loss 
to read its meaning. 


CHAPTER XXI. 


‘‘T am gone, sir, 
And anon, sir, 
T’ll be with you again.”’ 
—TWELFTH NIGHT. 


ALTHOUGH itis contrary to the apparent 
evidence of our senses, there is no truth 
more certain than that the course of most 
gales of wind comes from the. leeward. 
The effects of a tempest shall be felt for 
hours, at a point that is seemingly near 
its termination, before they are witnessed 
at another that appears to be nearer its 
source. Experience has also shown that 
a storm is more destructive at or near its 
actual place of commencement than at 
that whence it may seem to come. The 
easterly gales that so often visit the coast 
of the republic commit their ravages in 
the bays of Pennsylvania and Virginia, or 
along the sounds of the Carolinas, hours 


624 WORKS 


before their existence is known in the 
States farther east; and the same wind 
which is a tempest at Hatteras becomes 
softened to a breeze near the Penobscot. 
There is, however, little mystery in this 
apparent phenomenon. The vacuum which 
has been created in the air, and which is 
the origin of all winds, must be filled first 
from the nearest stores of the atmosphere ; 
and as each region contributes to produce 
the equilibrium, it must, in return, receive 
other supplies from those which lhe be- 
yond. Were a given quantity of water to 
be suddenly abstracted from the sea, the 
empty place would be replenished by a 
torrent from the nearest surrounding 
fluid, whose level would be restored in 
succession by supplies that were less and 
less violently contributed. Were the ab- 
straction made on a shoal, or near the 
land, the flow would be the greatest from 
that quarter where the fluid had the 
greatest force, and with it would conse- 
quently come the current. 

But while there is so close an affinity 
between the two fluids, the workings of 
the viewless winds are, in their nature, 
much less subject to the powers of human 
comprehension than those of the sister 
element. The latter are frequently sub- 
ject to the direct and manifest influence 
of the former, while the effects produced 
by the ocean on the air are hid from our 
knowledge by the subtle character of the 
agency. Vague and erratic currents, it 
is true, are met in the waters of the 
ocean; but their origin is easily referred 
to the action of the winds, while we often 
remain in uncertainty as to the immedi- 
ate causes which give birth to the breezes 
themselves. Thus the mariner, even 
while the victim of the _ irresistible 
waves, studies the heavens as the known 
source from whence the danger comes; 
and while he struggles fearfully, amid the 
strife of the elements, to preserve the 
balance of the delicate and fearful ma- 
chine he governs, he well knows that the 
one which presents the most visible, and 
to a landsman much the most formidable 
object of apprehension, is but the instru- 
ment of the unseen and powerful agent 
that heaps the water on his path. 


‘ | ? vers 
td 
“ ‘ 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


It is in consequence of this difference 
in power, and of the mystery that en- 
velops the workings of the atmosphere, 
that, in all ages, seamen have been the 
subjects of superstition in respect to the 
winds. There is more or less of the de- 
pendency of ignorance in the manner 
with which they have regarded the 
changes of that fickle element. Even 
the mariners of our own times are not 
exempt from this weakness. The thought- 
less ship-boy is reproved if his whistle be 
heard in the howling of the gale; and the 
officer sometimes betrays a feeling of un- 


easiness, if at such a moment he should — 


witness any violation of the received opin- 
ions of his profession. He finds himself 
in the situation of one whose ears have 
drunk in legends of supernatural appear- 
ances, which a better instruction has 
taught him to condemn; and who, when 
placed in situations to awaken their recol- 
lection, finds the necessity of drawing 
upon his reason to quiet emotions that he 
might hesitate to acknowledge. 

When Trysail directed the attention of 
his young commander to the heavens, how- 
ever, it was more with the intelligence of 
an experienced mariner than with any of 
the sensations to which allusion has just 
been made. A cloud had suddenly ap- 
peared on the water, and long, ragged 
portions of the vapor were pointing from 


it, in a manner to give it what seamen — 


term a windy appearance. 

‘We shall have more than we want 
with this canvas!’ said the master, after 
both he and his commander had studied 
the appearance of the mist for a sufficient 
time. ‘‘That fellow is a mortal enemy of 
lofty sails; he likes to see nothing but 
naked sticks up in his neighborhood ! ”’ 

‘‘T think his appearance will force the 
brigantine to shorten sail,’? returned the 
Captain. ‘‘ We will hold on to the last, 
while he must begin to take in soon, or the 


squall will come upon him too fast for a 


light-handed vessel.’’ 

“°Tis a cruiser’s advantage! yet the 
rogue shows no signs of lowering a single 
cloth ! ”’ 

‘“We will look to our own spars,’’ said 
Ludlow, turning to the lieutenant of the 


\ 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


625 


yoaten. **Call the people up, sir, and see } the progress of the cloud with singular 


all ready for yonder cloud.”’ 

The order was succeeded by the custom- 
ary hoarse summons of the boatswain, who 
prefaced the effort of his lungs by a long, 
shrill winding of his call, above the hatch- 
ways of the ship. The cry of ‘‘ All hands 
shorten sail, ahoy!’’ soon brought the 
crew from the depths of the vessel to her 
upper deck. Each trained seaman silently 
took his station; and after the ropes were 
cleared, and the few necessary prepara- 
tions made, all stood in attentive silence, 
awaiting the sounds that might next pro- 
ceed from the trumpet, which the first 
lieutenant had now assumed in person. 

The superiority of sailing, which a ship 
fitted for war possesses over one em- 
ployed in commerce, proceeds from a 
variety of causes. The first is in the con- 
struction of the hull, which in the one is 
as justly fitted as the art of naval archi- 
tecture will allow to the double purposes 
of speed and buoyancy; while, in the 
other, the desire of gain induces great 
sacrifices of these important objects in 
order that the vessel may be burdensome. 
Next comes the difference in the rig, 


which is not only more square, but more 


lofty in a ship of war than in a trader ; 
because the greater force of the crew of 
the former enables them to manage both 
spars and sails that are far heavier than 
any ever used in the latter. 

Then comes the greater ability of the 
cruiser to make and shorten sail, since a 
ship manned by one or two hundred men 
may safely profit by the breeze to the last 
moment, while one manned by a dozen 
often loses hours of a favorable wind, 
from the-weakness of her crew. This ex- 
planation will enable the otherwise unini- 
tiated reader to understand why Ludlow 
had hoped the coming squall would aid 
his designs on the chase. 

To express ourselves in nautical lan- 
guage, ‘‘The Coquette held on to the 
last.’”’ Ragged streaks of vapor were 
whirling about in the air, within a fear- 
ful proximity to the lofty and light sails, 
and the foam on the water had got so 
near the ship as already to efface her 
wake; when Ludlow, who had watched 


coolness, made a sign to his subordinate 
that the proper instant had arrived. 

‘In, of all!’’? shouted through the 
trumpet, was all that was necessary ; for 
officers and crew were well instructed in 
their duty. 

The words had no sooner quitted the lips 
of the lieutenant, than the steady roar of 
the sea was drowned in the flapping of the 
canvas. ‘Tacks, sheets, and halyards 
went together, and in less than a minute 
the cruiser showed naked spars and whist- 
ling ropes, where so lately had been seen 
a cloud of snow-white cloth. All her 
steering-sails came in together, and the 
lofty canvas was furled to her topsails. 
The latter stood, and the vessel received 
the weight of the little tempest on their 
broad surfaces. The gallant ship stood 
the shock nobly; but, as the wind came 
over the taffrail, its force had far less in- 
fluence on the hull than on the other occa- 
sion already described. The danger, now, 
was for her spars; and these were saved 
by the watchful, though bold vigilance of 
her captain. 

Ludlow was no sooner certain that the 
cruiser felt the force of the wind, and to 
gain this assurance needed but a few mo- 
ments, than he turned his eager look on 
the brigantine. To the surprise of all who 
witnessed her temerity, the Water-Witch 
showed all her light sails. Swiftly as the 
ship was now driven through the water, 
its velocity was greatly outstripped by 
the wind. The signs of the passing squall 
were already visible on the sea for half 
the distance between the two vessels ; and 
still the chase showed no consciousness of 
its approach. Her commander had evi- 
dently studied its effects on the Coquette, 
and he waited the shock with the.coolness 
of one accustomed to depend on his own 
resources, and able to estimate the force 
with which he had to contend. 

‘*Tf he hold on a minute longer he will 
get more than he can bear, and away will 
go all his kites like smoke from the muzzle 
of a gun!” muttered Trysail. ‘Ah! 
there come down his studding-sails—ha ! 
settle away the mainsail—in royal and 
topgallant sail with topsail on the cap! 


626 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


The rascals are nimble as pickpocketsin a | the cruiser, did not wait for the end of 


crowd !”’ 

The honest master has sufficiently de- 
scribed the precautions taken on board of 
the brigantine. Nothing was furled ; but 
as everything was hauled up or lowered, 
the squall had little to waste its fury 
on. The diminished surface of the sails 
protected the spars, while the canvas was 
saved by the aid of cordage. After a few 
moments of pause, half a dozen men were 
seen busied in more effectually securing 
the few upper and lighter sails. 

But though the boldness with which the 
Skimmer of the Seas carried sail to the 
last was justified by the result, still the ef- 
fects of the increased wind and rising 
waves on the progress of the two vessels 
became more sensible. While the little 
and low brigantine began to labor and 
roll the Coquette rode the element with 
buoyancy, and consequently with less re- 
sistance from the water. Twenty minutes, 
during which the force of the wind was 
but little lessened, brought the cruiser so 
near the chase as to enable her crew to 
distinguish most of the smaller objects 
that were visible above her ridge-poles. 

‘« Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks ! ”’ 
said Ludlow, in an undertone, the excite- 
ment of the chase growing with the hopes 
of success. ‘‘I ask but one half hour, 
then shift at your pleasure! ’’ 

** Blow, good devil, and you shall have 
the cook!’’ muttered Trysail, quoting a 
very different author. ‘‘ Another glass 
will bring us within hale.’’ 

“The squall is leaving us!” inter- 
rupted the Captain. ‘‘ Pack on the ship 
again, Mr. Luff, from her trucks to her 
ridge-ropes ! ”’ 


The whistle of the boatswain was again. 


heard at the hatchways, and the hoarse 
summons of ‘‘ All hands make sail, 
ahoy !’? once more called the people to 
their stations. The sails were set with 
a rapidity which nearly equaled the 
speed with which they had been taken 
in, and the violence of the breeze was 
scarcely off the ship before its compli- 
cated volumes of canvas were spread to 
catch what remained. 


the squall, but, profiting by the notice 
given by the latter, the Skimmer of the 
Seas began to sway his yards aloft 
while the sea was still white with foam. 

“The quick-sighted rogue knows we 
are done with it,’ said Trysail; ‘‘ and 
he is getting ready for his own turn. 
We gain but little of him, notwithstand- 
ing our muster of hands.”’ 

The fact was too true to be denied, for 
the brigantine was again under all her 
canvas, before the ship had _ sensibly 
profited by her superior physical force. 
It was at this moment, when, perhaps in 
consequence of the swell on the water, the 
Coquetie might have possessed some small 
advantage, that the wind suddenly failed. 
The squall had been its expiring effort ; 
and, within an hour after the two vessels 
had again made sail, the canvas was flap- 
ping against the masts in a manner to 


throw back, in eddies, a force as great as 


that which it received. The sea fell fast, 
and near the end of the last, or forenoon 
watch, the surface of the ocean was agi- 
tated only by those long, undulating swells 
that seldom leave it entirely without 
motion. For some little time there were 
fickle currents of air playing in various 
directions about the ship, but always in 
sufficient force to urge her slowly through 
the water; and then, when the equilibrium 
of the element seemed established, there 
was a total calm. During the half-hour 
of the baffling winds, the brigantine had 
been a gainer, though not enough to carry 
her entirely beyond the reach of the 
cruiser’s guns. 

‘‘ Haul up the courses!’’ said Ludlow, 
when the last breath of wind had been 
felt on the ship, and quitting the gun 
where he had long stood, watching the 
movements of the chase. ‘‘ Get the boats 
into the water, Mr. Luff, and arm their 
crews.” 

The young commander issued this order, — 
which needed no interpreter to explain its 
object, firmly, but in sadness. His face 
was thoughtful, and his whole air was — 
that of a man who yielded to an impera- 


On the other} tive but an unpleasant duty. When he- 
hand, the chase, even more hardy than] had spoken he signed to the attentive : 


THE WATEHR-WITCH. 


Alderman and his friend to follow, and 
entered, his cabin. 

“There is no alternative,’’ continued 
Ludlow, as he laid the glass, which so 
often that morning had been at his eye, 
on the table, and threw himself into a 
chair. ‘This rover must be seized at 
every hazard, and here is a favorable 
occasion to carry him by boarding. 
Twenty minutes will bring us to his 
side, and five more will put us in pos- 
Session ; but——~’’ 

** You think the Skimmer is not a man 
to receive such visitors with an old wo- 
man’s welcome,’’ pithily observed Myn- 
dert. 

“‘] much mistake the man if he yield so 
beautiful a vessel peacefully. Duty is 
imperative on a seaman, Alderman Van 
Beverout; and much as I lament the cir- 
cumstance, it must be obeyed.”’ 

.“T understand you, sir. Captain Lud- 
low has two mistresses, Queen Anne and 
the daughter of old Etienne Barberie. He 
fears both. When the debts exceed the 
means of payment, it would seem wise to 
offer to compound; and in this case her 
Majesty and my niece may be said to stand 
in case of creditors.’’ 

“You mistake my meaning, sir,’’ said 
Ludlow. ‘‘There can be no composition 
between a faithful officer and his duty, 
nor do 1 acknowledge more than one mis- 
tress in my ship—but seamen are little to 
be trusted in the moment of success, and 
with their passions awakened by resist- 
ance. Alderman Van Beverout, will you 
accompany the party, and serve as medi- 
ator ? ”’ 

** Pikes and hand-grenades! Am Ia 
fit Subject for mounting the sides of a 
smuggler with a broadsword between my 
teeth! If you will put me into the small- 
est and most peaceable of your boats, with 
a crew of two boys, that I can control 
with the authority of a magistrate, and 
covenant to remain here with your three 
topsails aback, having always a flag of 
truce at each mast, I will bear the olive 
branch to the brigantine, but not a word 
of menace. If report speak true, your 
Skimmer of the Seas is no lover of threats, 
and Heaven forbid that I should do vio- 


627 


lence to any man’s habits! I will go forth 
as your turtle-dove, Captain Ludlow ; but 
not one foot will I proceed as your Go- 
liath.’’ 

‘©And you equally refuse endeavoring 
to avert hostilities ?’’ continued Ludlow, 
turning his look on the Patroon of Kin- 
derhook. 

‘‘Tam the Queen’s subject, and ready 
to aid in supporting the laws,’’ quietly re- 
turned Olotf Van Staats. 

‘*Patroon!’’ exclaimed his watchful 
friend, ‘‘ you know not what you say! If 
there were question of an inroad of Mo- 
hawks, or an invasion from the Canadas, 
the case would be altered; but this is only 
a trifling difference concerning a small 
balance in the revenue duties, which had 
better be left to your tide-waiter and the 
other wild-cats of the law. If Parliament 
will put temptation bfore our eyes, let the 
sin light on their own heads. Human 
nature is weak, and the vanities of our 
system are so many inducements to over- 
look unreasonable regulations. I say, 
therefore, that it is better to remain in 
peace on board this ship, where our char- 
acter will be as safe as our bones, and 
trust to Providence for what will happen.”’ 

‘“‘T am the Queen’s subject. ready to 
uphold her dignity,’ repeated Oloff, 
firmly. 

“‘T will trust you, sir,’’? said Ludlow, 
taking his rival by the arm, and leading 
him into his own stateroom. | 

The conference was soon ended, and a 
midshipman shortly after reported that 
the boats were ready for service. The 
master was next summoned to the cabin, 
and admitted to the private apartment of 
his commander. Ludlow then proceeded 
to the deck, where he made the final dis- 
positions for the attack. The ship was 
left in charge of Mr. Luff, with an injunc- 
tion to profit by any breeze that might 
offer, to draw as near as possible to the 
chase. Trysail was placed in the launch 
at the head of a strong party of boarders. 
Van Staats of Kinderhook was provided 
with the yawl, manned only by its custom- 
ary crew; while Ludlow entered his own 
barge, which contained its usual comple- 
ment, though the arms that lay in the 


2 


628 WORKS 
stern-sheets sufficiently showed that they 
were prepared for service. 

The launch being the soonest ready, and 
of much the heaviest movement, was the 
first to quit the side ofthe Coquette. The 
master steered directly for the becalmed 
and motionless brigantine. Ludlow took 
a& more circuitous route, apparently with 
an intention of causing such a diversion as 
might distract the attention of the crew of 
the smuggler, and with aview of reaching 
the point of attack at the same moment 
with the boat that contained his principal 
force. The yawl also inclined from the 
straight line, steering as much on one side 
as the barge diverged on the other. In 
this manner the men pulled in silence for 
some twenty minutes—the motion of the 
larger boat, which was heavily charged, 
being slow and difficult. At the end of 
this period, a signal was made from the 
barge, when all the men ceased rowing, 
and prepared themselves for the struggle. 
The launch was within pistol-shot of the 
brigantine, and directly on her beam; 
the yawl had gained her head, where Van 
Staats of Kinderhook was studying the 
malign expression of the image with an in- 
terest that seemed to increase as his slug- 
gish nature became excited; and Ludlow, 
on the quarter opposite to the launch, was 
examining the condition of the chase by the 
aid of a glass. Trysail profited by the 
pause to address his followers: 

‘‘This is an expedition in boats,’’ com- 
menced the accurate and circumstantial 
master, ‘‘made in smooth water, with 
little, or one may say no wind, in the 
month of June, and on the coast of North 
America. You are not such a set of 
know-nothingss, men, as to suppose the 
launch has been hoisted out, and two of 
the oldest, not to say best seamen on the 
quarter-deck of her Majesty’s ship have 
gone in boats, without the intention of 
doing something more than to ask the 
name and character of the brig in sight. 
The smallest of the young gentlemen 
might have done that duty as well as the 
Captain or myself. It is the belief of those 
who are best informed that the stranger 
who has the impudence to lie quietly with- 
in long range of a royal cruiser, without 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


showing his colors, is neither more nor 
less than the Skimmer of the Seas, a man 
against whose seamanship I will say noth- 
ing, but who has none of the best reputa- 
tion for honesty, as respects the Queen’s 
revenue. No doubt you have heard many 
extraordinary accounts of the exploits of 
this rover, some of which seem to insinuate 
that the fellow has a private understanding 
with those who manage their transactions 
in a less religious manner than it may be 
supposed is done by the bench of bishops. 
But what of that? You are hearty Eng- 
lishmen, who know what belongs to church 
and state; and d——e you are not the 
boys to be frightened by a little witch- 
craft (cheer). 

‘‘Aye, that is intelligible and reasonable 
language, and such as satisfies me you 
understand the subject. I shall say no 
more than just to add, that Captain Lud- 
low desires there may be no indecent lan- 
guage, nor for that matter any rough ~ 
treatment of the people of the brigantine, 
over and above the knocking on the head ~ 
and cutting of throats that may be neces- — 
sary to take her. In this particular you 
will take example by me, who, being older, 
have more experience than most of you, — 
and who, in all reason, should better know ~ 
when and where to show his manhood. 
Lay about you like men so long as the 
freetraders stand to their quarters—but 
remember mercy in the hour of victory! 
You will on no account enter the cabins; _ 
on this head my orders are explicit, and I 
shall make no more of throwing the man — 
into the sea who dares to trangress them — 
than if he were a dead Frenchman; and q 
as we now Clearly understand each other, — 
and know our duty so well, there remains ~ 
no more than to do it. I have said noth- — 
ing of the prize-money (a cheer), seeing 
you are men that love the Queen and her 
honor more than lucre (a cheer) ; but this 
much I can safely promise, that there will — 
be the usual division (a cheer), and as — 
there is little doubt but the rogues have ~ 
driven a profitable trade, why the sum — 
total is likely to be no trifle.” (Three 
hearty cheers.) a 

The report of a pistol from the barge, — 
which was immediately followed by a gun 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


from the cruiser, whose shot came whist- 
ling between the masts of the Water- 
Witch, was the signal to resort to the 
ordinary means of victory. The master 
cheered in his turn; and in a full, steady, 
and deep voice, he gave the order to ‘‘ Pull 
away!’ At the same instant, the barge 
and yawl were seen advancing toward the 
object of their common attack with a 
velocity that promised to bring the event 
to a speedy issue. 

Throughout the whole of the prepara- 
tions in and about the Coquette, since the 
moment when the breeze failed, nothing 
had been seen of the crew of the brigan- 
tine. The beautiful fabric lay rolling on 
the heaving and setting waters; but no 
human form appeared to control her move- 
ments, or to make the arrangements that 
seemed so necessary for her defense. The 
sails continued hanging as they had been 
left by the breeze, and the hull was float- 
ing at the will of the waves. This deep 
quiet was undisturbed by the approach of 
the boats; and if the desperate individual 
who was known to command the free- 
trader had any intentions of resistance, 
they had been entirely hid from the long 
and anxious gaze of Ludlow. Even the 
shouts, and the dashing of the oars on 
the water, when the boats commenced 
their final advance, produced no change 
on the deck of the chase; though the 
commander of the Coquette saw her head- 
yards slowly and steadily changing their 
direction. Uncertain of the object of this 
movement, he rose on the seat of his boat, 
and, waving his hat, cheered the men to 
greater exertion. The barge had got 
within a hundred feet of the broadside of 
the brigantine, when the whole of her wide 
folds of canvas were seen swelling out- 
ward. The exquisitely-ordered machinery 
of spars, sails, and rigging, bowed toward 
the barge, as in theact of a graceful leave- 
taking, and the light hull glided ahead, 
leaving the boat to plow through the 
empty space which it had just occupied. 

There needed no second look to assure 
Ludlow of the inefficacy of farther pursuit, 
since the sea was already ruffled by the 
breeze which had so opportunely come to 
aid the smuggler. He signed to Trysail 


629 


to desist; and both stood looking, with 
disappointed eyes, at the white and bub- 
bling streak which was left by the wake 
of the fugitive. 

But while the Water-Witch left the 
boats, commanded by the Captain and 
Master of the Queen’s cruiser, behind her, 
she steered directly on the course that was 
necessary to bring her soonest in contact 
with the yawl. For afew moments, the 
crew of the latter believed it was their 
own advance that brought them so rap- 
idly near their object ; and when the mid- 
shipman who steered the boat discovered 
his error, it was only in season to prevent 
the swift brigantine from passing over 
his little bark. He gave the yawl a wide 
sheer, and called to his men to pull for 
their lives. Oloff Van Staats had placed 
himself at the head of the boat, armed 
with a hanger, and with every faculty 
too intent on the expected attack to heed 
a danger that was scarcely intelligible to 
one of his habits. As the brigantine 
glided past, he saw her low channels bend- 
ing toward the water, and, with a power- 
ful effort, he leaped into them, shouting a ~ 
sort of war-cry in Dutch. At the next in- 
stant he threw his large frame over the 
bulwark, and disappeared on the deck of 
the smuggler. 

When Ludlow caused his boats to as- 
semble on the spot which the chase had so 
lately occupied, he saw that the fruitless 
expedition had been attended by no other 
casualty than the involuntary abduction 
of the Patroon of Kinderhook. 


——_. 


CHAPTER XXII. 


‘*¢ What country, friends, is this?’ 
‘Tlyria, lady.’’’—TWELFTH NIGHT. 


MEN are as much indebted to a fortui- 
tous concurrence of circumstances, for the 
characters they sustain in this world, as 
to their personal qualities. The same 
truth is applicable to the reputations of 
ships. The properties of a vessel, like 
those of an individual, may have their in- 
fluence on her good or evil fortune; still, 
something is due to the accidents of life 
in both. Although the breeze which came 


630 


so opportunely to the aid of the Water- 


Witch soon filled the sails of the Co-. 


quette, it caused no change in the opinions 
of her crew concerning that ship ; while it 
served to heighten the reputation which 
the Skimmer of the Seas had already ob- 
tained as a mariner who was more than 
favored by happy chances in the thousand 
emergencies of his hazardous profession. 
Trysail himself shook his head, in a man- 
ner that expressed volumes, when Ludlow 
vented his humor on what the young man 
termed the luck of the smuggler; and the 
crews of the boats gazed after the retir- 
ing brigantine as the inhabitants of Japan 
would now most probably regard the pas- 
sage of some vessel propelled by steam. 
As Mr. Luff was not neglectful of his 
duty, it was not long before the Coquette 
approached her boats. The delay occa- 
sioned by hoisting in the latter enabled 
the chase to increase the space between 
the two vessels to such a distance as to 
place her altogether beyond the reach of 
shot. Ludlow, however, gave his orders 
to pursue, the moment the ship was 
ready; and he hastened to conceal his 
disappointment in his own cabin. 

‘Luck is a merchant’s surplus, while a 
living profit is the reward of his wits !’’ 
observed Alderman Van Beverout, who 
could scarce conceal the satisfaction he 
felt at the unexpected and repeated es- 
capes of the brigantine. ‘‘Many a man 
gains doubloons, when he only looked for 
dollars; and many a market falls while 
the goods are in the course of clearance. 
There are Frenchmen enough, Captain 
Ludlow, to keep a brave officer in good 
humor; and the less reason to fret about 
a trifling mischance in overhauling a 
smugeler.’’ 

‘‘T know not how highiy you may prize 
your niece, Mr. Van Beverout; but were 
I the uncle of such a woman, the idea that 
she had become the infatuated victim of 
the arts of yon reckless villain would 
madden me.”’ 

‘‘Paroxysms and strait-jackets! Hap- 
pily you are not her uncle, Captain Lud- 
low, and therefore the less reason to be 
uneasy. ‘The girl has a French fancy, and 
she is rummaging the smuggler’s silks 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


i Ol 


and laces; when her choice is made we 
shall have her back again, more beautiful 
than ever for a little finery.”’ 

‘Choice! Oh, Alida, Alida! this is 
not the election that we had reason to ex- 
pect from thy cultivated mind and proud 
sentiments ! ’ 

“The cultivation is my work, and the 
pride is an inheritance from old Etienne 
de Barberie,’’ dryly rejoined Myndert. 
‘But complaints never lowered a market 
nor raised the funds. Let us send for the 
Patroon, and take counsel coolly as to the 
easiest manner of finding our way back to 
the Lust in Rust, before her Majesty’s ship 
gets too far from the coast of America.’? — 

«Thy pleasantry is unseasonable, sir. 
Your Patroon is gone with your niece, 
and a pleasant passage they are likely to 
enjoy insuch company ! We lost him in 
the expedition with our boats.”’ 

The Alderman stood aghast. 

‘Lost! Oloff Van Staats lost in the 
expedition of the boats! Evil betide the 
day when that discreet and affluent youth 
should be lost to the colony! Sir, you 
know not what you utter when you hazard 
so rash an opinion. The death of the 
young Patroon of Kinderhook would ren- 
der one of the best and most substantial 
of our families extinct and leave the third 
best estate in the Province without a 
direct heir !”’ 

‘The calamity is not so overwhelming,”’ 
returned the Captain, with bitterness. 
‘The gentleman has boarded the smug- 
gler, and gone with la belle Barberie to 
examine his silks and laces !”’ 

Ludlow then explained the manner in 
whick the Patroon had disappeared. 
When perfectly assured that no bodily 
harm had befallen his friend, the satisfac- 
tion of the Aiderman was quite as vivid 
as his consternation had been apparent 
but the moment before. 

‘Gone with la belle Barberie to examine 
silks and laces !’’ he repeated, rubbing his 
hands together in delight. ‘‘ Aye, there 
the blood of my old friend Stephanus be- 
gins to show itself! Your true Hollander 
is no mercurial Frenchman to beat his 
head and make grimaces at a shift in the 
wind, or a woman’s frown; nor a bluster- 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


ing Englishman (you are of the colony 
yourself, young gentleman), to swear a 
big oath and swagger; but, as you see, 
a@ quiet, persevering, and in the main, an 
active son of old Batavia, who watches his 
opportunity, and goes into the very pres- 
ence of 3 

“Whom ?”? demanded Ludlow, perceiv- 
ing that the Alderman had paused. 

“Of his enemy; seeing that all the 
enemies of the Queen are necessarily the 
enemies of every loyal subject. Bravo, 
young Oloff! thou art a lad after my own 
heart, and no doubt—no doubt—fortune 
will favor the brave! Hada Hollander a 
proper footing on this earth, Captain Cor- 
nelius Ludlow, we should hear a different 
tale concerning the right to the narrow 
Seas, and indeed to most other questions 
of commerce.”’ 

Ludlow rose with a bitter smile on his 
face, though with no ill feeling toward the 
man whose exultation was so natural. 

“Mr. Van Staats may have reason to 
congratulate himself on his good fortune,”’ 
he said, “‘ though I much mistake if even 
his enterprise will succeed against the 
wiles of one so artful, and of an appear- 
ance So gay, as the man whose guest he 
has now become. Let the caprice of 
others be what it may, Alderman Van 
Beverout, my duty must be done. The 
‘smuggler, aided by chance and artifice, 
has thrice escaped me; the fourth time 
it may be our fortune. If this ship 
possesses the power to destroy the law- 
less rover, let him look to his fate.’’ 

With this menace on his lips, Ludlow 
quitted the cabin to resume his station on 
the deck, and to renew his unwearied 
watching of the movements of the chase. 

The change of the wind was altogether 
in favor of the brigantine. It brought 
her to windward, and was the means of 
placing the two vessels in positions that 
enabled the Water-Witch to profit most 
by her peculiar construction. Conse- 
quently, when Ludlow resigned his post, 
he saw that the swift and light craft had 
trimmed everything close upon the wind, 
and that she was already so far ahead 
as to render the chances of bringing her 
again within range of his guns almost 


631 


desperate ; unless, indeed, some of the 
many vicissitudes, so common on the 
ocean, should interfere in his behalf. 
There remained little else to be done, 
therefore, but to crowd every sail on the 
Coquette that the ship could bear, and 
to endeavor to keep within sight of the 
chase during the hours of darkness which 
must so shortly succeed. But before the 
sun had fallen to the level of the water, 
the hull of the Water-Witch had disap- 
peared ; and when the day closed, no part 
of her airy outline was visible but that 
which was known to belong to her upper 
and lighter spars. In a few minutes after- 
ward darkness covered the ocean, and the 
Seamen of the royal cruiser were left to 
pursue their object at random. 

How far the Coquette had run during 
the night does not appear, but when her 
commander made his appearance on the 
following morning, his long and anxious 
gaze met no other reward than a naked 
horizon. On every side the sea presented 
the same waste of water. No object was 
visible but the sea-fowl wheeling on his 
wide wing, and the summit of the irregu- 
lar and green billows. Throughout that 
and many succeeding days the cruiser 
continued to plow the ocean, sometimes 
running large, with everything opened to 
the breeze that the wide booms would 
spread, and, at others, pitching and labor- 
ing with adverse winds, as if bent on 
prevailing over the obstacles which even 
nature presented to her progress. The 
head of the worthy Alderman had got 
completely turned, and, though he pa- 
tiently awaited the result, before the week 
was ended he knew not even the direction 
in which the ship was steering. At length 
he had reason to believe that the end of 
their cruise approached. The efforts of 
the seamen were observed to relax, and 
the ship was permitted to pursue her 
course under easier sail. 

It was past meridian, on one of those 
days of moderate exertion, that Francois. 
was seen stealing from below, and stag- 
gering from gun to gun, to a place in the 
center of the ship, where he habitually 
took the air in good weather, and where 
he might dispose of his person, equally 


632 


without presuming too far on the good 
nature of his superiors, and without court- 
ing too much intimacy with the coarser 
herd, who composed the common crew. 

“Ah!” exclaimed the valet, addressing 
his remark to the midshipman who has 
already been mentioned by the name of 
Hopper, ‘‘ voila la terre! Quel bonheur ! 
I shall be so happy—le batiment be trop 
agreable, mais vous savez, Monsieur Aspi- 
rant, que je ne suis point marin; what be 
le nom du pays ?”’ 

‘They call it France,’’ returned the 
boy, who understood enough of the other’s 
language to comprehend his meaning; 
‘and a very good country it is—for those 
that like it.’’ 

“*Ma foi, non exclaimed Francois, 
recoiling a pace between amazement and 
delight. 

‘Call it Holland, then, if you prefer 
that country most.”’ 

‘‘Dites-moi, Monsieur Hoppair,’’ con- 
tinued the valet, laying a trembling finger 
on the arm of the remorseless young 
rogue; ‘‘est-ce la France? ”’ 

“One would think a man of your ob- 
servation could tell that for himself. Do 
you see the church-tower, with a chateau 
in the background, and a village built in a 
heap. by its side? Now look into yon 
wood! There is a walk, straight as a 
ship’s wake in smooth water, and one— 
two—three—aye, eleven statues, with just 
one nose among them all! ”’ 

‘Ma foi—dere is not no wood, and no 
chateau, and no village, and no statue, 
and no nose—mais, Monsieur, je suis age— 
est-ce la France ?”’ 

‘‘Oh, you miss nothing by having an 
indifferent sight, for I shall explain it all 
as we go along. You see yonder hillside, 
looking like a pattern-card, of green and 
yellow stripes, or a signal-book, with the 
flags of all nations, placed side by side— 
well, that is—les champs ; and this beau- 
tiful wood, with all the branches trimmed 
till it looks like so many raw marines at 
drill, is—la foret——’’ 

The credulity of the warm-hearted valet 
could swallow no more; but, assuming a 
look of commuseration and dignity, he 
drew back, and left the young tyro of the 


}?? 


 . a 
. 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


sea to enjoy his joke with a companion 
who just then joined him. 

In the meantime, the Coquette con- 
tinued to advance. The chateau, and 
churches, and villages of the midship- 
man soon changed into a low, sandy 
beach, with a background of stunted 
pines, relieved here and there by an open- 
ing, in which appeared the comfortable 
habitation and numerous out-buildings of 
some substantial yeoman or occasionally 
embellished by the residence of a country 
proprietor. ‘Toward noon, the crest of a 
hill rose from the sea; and, just as the 
sun set behind a barrier of mountain, the 
ship passed the sandy cape, and anchored 
at the spot that she had quitted when 
first joined by her commander after his 
visit to the brigantine. The vessel was 
soon moored, the light yards were struck, 
and a boat was lowered into the water. 
Ludlow and the Alderman then descended 
the side, and proceeded toward the mouth 
of the Shrewsbury. Although it was 
nearly dark before they had reached the 
shore, there remained light enough to 
enable the former to discover an object of 
unusual appearance floating in the bay, 
and at no great distance from the direc- 
tion of his barge. Hewasled by curiosity 
to steer for it. 

** Cruisers and Water-Witches ! ’? mut- 


tered Myndert, when they were near 


enough to perceive the nature of the 
floating object. ‘‘That brazen hussy 
haunts us, as if we had robbed her of 
gold! Let us set foot on land, and noth- 
ing short of a deputation from the city 
council shall ever tempt me to wander 
from my own abode again ! ”’ 

Ludlow shifted the helm of the boat, 
and resumed his course toward the river. 
He required no explanation to tell him of 
the nature of the artifice by which he had 
been duped. The nicely-balanced tub, the 
upright spar, and the extinguished lan- 
tern, with the features of the female of 
the malign smile traced on its horn faces, 
reminded him, at once, of the false light 
by which the Coquette had been lured 
from her course on the night she sailed in 
pursuit of the brigantine. 


THE WATER-WITOH. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


“His daughter, and the heir of his kingdom, 
.... hath referred herself 
Unto a poor but worthy gentleman.”’ 
—CYMBELINE. 


WHEN Alderman Van Beverout and 
Ludlow drew near to the Lust in Rust, 
it was already dark. Night had over- 
taken them at some distance from the 
place of landing; and the mountain al- 
ready threw its shadow across the river, 
the narrow strip of land that separated it 
from the sea, and far upon the ocean it- 
self. Neither had an opportunity of mak- 
ing his observations on the condition of 
things in and about the villa until they 
ascended nearly to its level, and had even 
entered the narrow but fragrant lawn in 
front. Just before they arrived at the 
gate which opened on the latter, the 
Alderman paused, and addressed his com- 
panion, with more of the manner of their 
ancient confidence than he had manifested 
during the few preceding days of their 
intercourse. 

“You must have observed, that the 
events of this little excursion on the water 
have been rather of a domestic than of a 
public character,’’ he said. ‘‘ Thy father 
was a very ancient and much esteemed 
friend of mine, and I am far from certain 
that there is not some affinity between 
us, in the way of intermarriages. Thy 
worthy mother, who is a thrifty: woman 
and a small talker, had some of the blood 
of my own stock. It would grieve me to 
see the good understanding, which these 
recollections have created, in any manner 
interrupted. I admit, sir, that revenue is 
to the state what the soul is to the body 
—the moving and governing principle; 
and that, as the last would be a tenantless 
house without its inhabitants, so the first 
would be an exacting and troublesome 
master without its proper products. But 
there is no need of pushing a principle to 
extremities! If this brigantine be, as you 
appear to suspect, and indeed as we have 
some reason from various causes to infer, 
the vessel called the Water-Witch, she 
might have been a legal prize had she 
fallen into your power ; but now that she 
has escaped, I cannot say what may be 


4 


633 


your intentions; but were thy excellent 
father, the worthy member of the king’s 
council, living, so discreet a man would 
think much before he opened his lips, to 
Say more than is discreet, on this or any 
other subject.”’ 

‘“Whatever course I may believe my 
duty dictates, you may safely rely on my 
discretion concerning the—the remarkable 
—the very decided step which your niece 
has seen proper to take,’’ returned the 
young man, who did not make this allu- 
sion to Alida without betraying, by the 
tremor of his voice, how great was her 
influence still over him. ‘‘ I see no neces- 
sity of violating the domestic feelings to 
which you allude, by aiding to feed the 
ears of the idly curious with the narrative 
of her errors.”’ 

Ludlow stopped suddenly, leaving the 
uncle to infer what he would wish to add. 

‘This is generous, and manly, and like 
a loyal—lover, Captain Ludlow,’’ returned 
the Alderman; ‘‘ though it is not exactly 
what I intended to suggest. We will not, 
however, multiply words in the night air 
—ha! when the cat is asleep the mice are 
seen to play! Those night-riding, horse- 
racing blacks have taken possession of 
Alida’s pavilion; and we may be thank- 
ful the poor girl’s rooms are not as large 
as Harlem Common, or we should hear 
the feet of some hard-driven beast gallop- 
ing about in them.’’ 

The Alderman, in his turn, cut short his 
speech, and started as if one of the spooks 
of the colony had suddenly presented it- 
self to his eyes. His language drew the 
look of his companion toward la Cour des 
Fees; and Ludlow, at the same moment 
as the uncle, caught an unequivocal view 
of la belle Barberie, as she moved before 
the open window of her apartment. The 
latter was about to rush forward, but the 
hand of Myndert arrested the impetuous 
movement. 

‘‘Here is more matter for our wits than 
our legs,’’ observed the cool and prudent 
burgher. ‘‘That was the form of my 
ward and niece, or the daughter of old 
Etienne Barberie has adouble. Francois! 
didst thou not see the image of a woman 
at the window of the pavilion, or are we 


634 


deceived by our wishes? I have some- 
times been deluded in an unaccountable 
manner, Captain Ludlow, when my mind 
has been thoroughly set on the bargain, 
in the quality of the goods; for the most 
liberal of us all are subject to mental 
weakness of this nature, when hope is 
alive! ’’ . 

‘‘Certainement—oui!’’ exclaimed the 
eager valet. ‘Quel malheur to be 
oblige to go on la mer when Mam/’selle 
Alide nevair quit la maison! J’etais sur, 
que nous trompions, car jamais la famille 
de Barberie love to be marins!”’ 

‘«Hnough, good Francois; the family of 
Barberie is as earthly as a fox. Go and 
notify the idle rogues in my kitchen that 
their master is at hand; and remember, 
that there is no necessity for speaking of 
all the wonders we have seen on the great 
deep. Captain Ludlow, we will now join 
my dutiful niece with as little fracas as 
possible. ’’ 

Ludlow eagerly accepted the invitation, 
and instantly followed the dogmatical and 
seemingly unmoved Alderman toward the 
dwelling. As the lawn was crossed, they 
involuntarily paused a moment to look in 
at the open windows of the pavilion. 

La belle Barberie had ornamented la 
Cour des Fees with a portion of that 
national taste which she inherited from 
her father. The heavy magnificence that 
distinguished the reign of Louis XIV. had 
scarcely descended to one of the middling 
rank of Monsieur de Barberie, who had 
consequently brought with him to the 
place of his exile merely those tasteful 
usages which appear almost exclusively 
the property of the people from whom he 
had sprung, without the incumbrance and 
cost of the more pretending fashions of 
the period. These usages had become 
blended with the more domestic and com- 
fortable habits of English, or what is 
nearly the same thing, of American life— 
an union which, when it is found, perhaps 
produces the most just and happy medium 
of the useful and agreeable. Alida was 
seated by a small table of mahogany, 
deeply absorbed in the contents of a little 
volume that lay before her. By her side 
stood a tea-service, the cups and the ves- 


WORKS OF FENIMORE CCOPER, — 


sels of which were of the diminutive size 
then used, though exquisitely wrought, 
and of the most beautiful material. Her 
dress was a negligee suited to her years; 
and her whole figure breathed that air of 
comfort, mingled with grace, which seems 
the proper quality of the sex, and which 
renders the privacy of an elegant woman 
so attractive and peculiar. Her mind was 
intent on the book, and the little silver urn 
hissed at her elbow apparently unheeded. 

“This is the picture I have loved to 
draw,’’ half-whispered Ludlow, ‘‘ when 
gales and storms have kept me on the 
deck throughout many a dreary and tem- 
pestuous night! When body and mind 
have been impatient of fatigue, this is the 
repose I have most coveted, and for which 
I have even dared to hope.”’ 

‘“‘The China trade will come to some- 
thing in time, and you are an excellent 
judge of comfort, Master Ludlow,’’ re- 
turned the Alderman. ‘‘ That girl now 
has a warm glow on her cheek, which 
would seem to swear she never faced a 
breeze in her life; and it is not easy to 
fancy that one who looks so comfortable 
has lately been frolicking among the dol- 
phins. Let us enter.’’ 

Alderman Van Beverout was not ac- 
customed to use much ceremony in his 
visits to his niece. Without appearing to 
think any announcement necessary, there- 
fore, the dogmatical burgher coolly 
opened a door, and ushered his compan- 
ion into the pavilion. 

If the meeting between la belle Alida 
and her guests was distinguished by the 
affected indifference of the latter, their 
seeming ease was quite equaled by that 
of the lady. She laid aside her book with 
a calmness that might have been ex- 
pected had they parted but an hour be- 
fore, and which sufficiently assured both 
Ludlow and her uncle that their return 
was known and their presence expected. 

She simply arose at their entrance, and 
with a smile that betokened breeding 
rather than feeling, she requested them to 
be seated. The composure of his niece 
had the effect to throw the Alderman into 
a brown study, while the young sailor 


scarcely knew which to admire the most, ; 


Re EE = .~ ee ee 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


the exceeding loveliness of a woman who 
was always so beautiful, or her admirable 
self-possession in a scene that most others 
would have found sufficiently embarrass- 
ing. Alida, herself, appeared to feel no 
necessity for an explanation; for, when 
her guests were seated, she took occasion 
to say, while busied in pouring out the 
tea— 

*‘ You find me prepared to offer the re- 
freshment of a cup of delicious bohea. I 
think my uncle calls it the tea of the 
Caernarvon Castile.’’ 

_ “ A lacky ship, both in her passages and 
her wares! Yes, itis the article you name; 
and I can recommend it to all who wish to 
purchase. But, niece of mine, will you 
condescend to acquaint this commander in 
her Majesty’s service, and a poor Alder- 
man of her good city of New York, how 
long you may have been expecting our 
company ? ”’ 

Alida felt at her girdle, and drawing 
out a small and richly ornamented watch, 
she coolly examined its hands, as if to 
learn the hour. 

“Weare nine. I think it was past the 
turn of the day, when Dinah first men- 
tioned that this pleasure might be ex- 
pected. But I should also tell you that 
packages which seem to contain letters 
have arrived from town.” 

This was giving a newand sudden direc- 
tion to the thoughts of the Alderman. He 
had refrained from entering on those ex- 
planations which the circumstances seemed 
to require, because he well knew that he 
stood on dangerous ground, and that more 
might be said than he wished his compan- 
ion to hear, no less than from amazement 
at the composure of his ward. He was 
not sorry, therefore, to have an excuse to 
delay his inquiries, that appeared so much 
in character as that of reading the com- 
munications of his business correspondents. 

Swallowing the contents of the tiny cup 
he held, at a gulp, the eager merchant 
seized the packet that Alida now offered ; 
and muttering a few words of apology to 
Ludlow, he left the pavilion. 

Until now the commander of the Co- 
quette had not spoken. Wonder, mingled 
with indignation, sealed his mouth, though 


635 


he had endeavored to penetrate the veil 
which Alida had drawn around her con- 
duct and motives, by a diligent use of his 
eyes. During the first few moments of the 
interview, he thought that he could detect, 
in the midst of her studied calmness, a 
melancholy smile struggling around her 
beautiful mouth; but only once had their 
looks met, as she turned her full, rich, and 
dark eyes furtively on his face, as if curi- 
ous to know the effect produced by her 
manner on the mind of the young sailor. 

‘* Have the enemies of the Queen reason 
to regret the cruise of the Coquette ?’’ 
asked la Belle, hurriedly, when she found 
her glance detected; ‘‘or have they 
dreaded to encounter a prowess that has 
already proved their inferiority ? ”’ 

‘‘ Wear, or prudence, or perhaps I might 
Say conscience, has made them wary,”’’ re- 
turned Ludlow, pointedly emphasizing the 
latter words. ‘‘ We have run from the 
Hook to the edge of the Grand Bank, and 
returned without success.’’ 

«?Tis unlucky. But, though the French 
escaped, have none of the lawless met with 
punishment? Thereisa rumor among the 
slaves that the brigantine which visited 
us 1s an object of suspicion to the govern- 
ment ? ’’ 

“Suspicion! But I may apply to la 
belle Barberie, to know whether the char- 
acter her commander has obtained be 
merited ? ”’ 

Alida smiled, and, her admirer thought, 
as sweetly as ever. 

‘‘It would be a sign of extraordinary 
complaisance, were Captain Ludlow to 
apply to the girls of the colony for in- 
struction in his duty! We may be secret 
encouragers of the contraband, but surely 
we are not to be suspected of any greater 
familiarity with their movements. These 
hints may compel me to abandon the 
pleasures of the Lust in Rust, and to seek 
air and health in some less exposed situa- 
tion. Happily the banks of the Hudson 
offer many that one need be fastidious — 
indeed to reject.’’ 

** Among which you count the Manor 
House of Kinderhook ?”’ 

Again Alida smiled, and Ludlow thought 
it was triumphantly. 


636 WORKS 


“The dwelling of Oloff Van Staats is 
said to be commodious, and not badly 
placed. I have seen it iif 

“In your image of the future?’’ said 
the young man, observing she hesitated. 

Alida laughed downright. But imme- 
diately recovering her self-command, she 
replied : 

‘Not so fancifully. My knowledge of 
the beauties of the house of Mr. Van 
Staats is confined to very unpoetical 
glimpses from the river, in passing and 
repassing. The chimneys are twisted in 
the most approved style of the Dutch 
Brabant, and, although wanting the 
stork’s nest on their summits, it seems as 
if there might be that woman’s tempter, 
comfort, around the hearths beneath. 
The offices, too, have an enticing air for 
a thrifty housewife ! ”’ 

‘«‘Which office, in compliment to the 
worthy Patroon, you intend shall not 
long be vacant ? ”’ 

Alida was playing with a spoon, curi- 
ously wrought to represent the stem 
and leaves of a tea-plant. She started, 
dropped the implement, and raised her 
eyes to the face of her companion. The 
look was steady, and not without an in- 
terest in the evident concern betrayed by 
the young man. 

“‘It will never be filled by me, Lud- 
low,’’? was the answer, uttered solemnly, 
and with a decision that denoted a resolu- 
tion fixed. 

«That declaration removes a mountain ! 
Oh! Alida, if you could as easily ‘ig 

‘‘Hush !’’ whispered the other, rising 
and standing for‘a moment in an attitude 
of intense expectation. Her eye became 
brighter, and the bloom of her cheek even 
deeper than before, while pleasure and 
hope were both strongly depicted on her 
beautiful face. ‘‘ Hush!’’ she continued, 
motioning to Ludlow to repress his feel- 
ings. ‘ Did you hear nothing? ”’’ 

The disappointed and yet admiring 
young man was silent, though he watched 
her singularly interesting air and lovely 
features, with all the intenseness that 
seemed to characterize her own deport- 
ment. As no sound followed that which 
Alida had heard, or fancied she had heard, 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


she resumed her seat, and appeared to 
lend her attention once more to her com- 
panion. 

“You were speaking of mountains? ”’ 
she said, scarce knowing what she ut- 
tered. ‘‘The passage between the bays 
of Newburgh and Tappan has scarce a 
rival, as I have heard from traveled 
men.”’ 

“*T was indeed speaking of a mountain, 
but it was of one that weighs on my heart. 
Your inexplicable conduct and cruel indif- 
ference have heaped it on my feelings, 
Alida. You have said that there is no 
hope for Oloff Van Staats, and one syl- 
lable, spoken with your native ingenuous- 
ness and sincerity, has had the effect to 
blow all my apprehensions from that quar- 
ter to the winds. There remains only to 
account for your absence, to resume the 
whole of your power over one who is but 
too readily disposed to confide in all you 
say or do.”’ 

La belle Barberie seemed touched. Her 
glance at the young sailor was kinder, 
and her voice wanted some of its ordinary 
steadiness in the reply. 

‘That power has then been weakened.”’ 

«You will despise me if I say no—you 
will distrust me if I say yes.’’ 

“Then silence seems the course best 
adapted to maintain our present amity. 
Surely I heard a blow struck, lightly, on 
the shutter of that window !”’ 

‘““Hope sometimes deceives us. This 
repeated belief would seem to say that 
you expect a visitor ? ”’ 

A distinct tap on the shutter confirmed 
the impression of the mistress of the 
pavilion. Alida looked at her companion 
and appeared embarrassed. Her color 
varied, and she seemed anxious to utter 
something that either her feelings or her 
prudence suppressed. 3 

‘‘Captain Ludlow, you have once before 
been an unexpected witness of an inter- 
view in la Cour des Fees that has, I fear, 
subjected me to unfavorable surmises. 
But one manly and generous as yourself 
can have indulgence for the little vanities 
of woman. I expect a visit that, perhaps, 
a queen’s officer should not countenance.’ 

‘*T am no exciseman, to pry into ward- 


i 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


robes and secret repositories, but one 
whose duty it is to act only on the high 
seas, and against the more open violators 
of the law. If you have any without, 
whose presence you desire, let them enter 
without dread of my office. When we 
meet in a more suitable place, I shall 
know how to take my revenge.”’ 

His companion looked grateful, and 
bowed her acknowledgments. . She then 
made a ringing sound by using a spoon 
on the interior of the vessels of the tea 
-equipage. The shrubbery which shaded 
a window stirred, and presently the young 
stranger, already so well known in the 
former pages of this work, and in the 
scene of the brigantine, appeared in the 
low balcony. His person was scarcely 
seen, before a light bale of goods was 
tossed past him into the center of the 
room. 

“‘T send my certificate of character as 
an avant-courier,’’ said the gay dealer in 
contraband, or Master Seadrift, as he was 
called by the Alderman, touching his cap 
gallantly to the mistress of la Cour des 
Fees, and then somewhat more ceremoni- 
ously to her companion; after which he 
returned the gold-bound covering to its 
seat, on a bed of rich and glossy curls, 
and sought his package. ‘‘ Here is one 
more customer than I bargained for, and 
I look to more than common gain! We 
have met before, Captain Ludlow.”’ 

“We have, Sir Skimmer of the Seas, 
and we shall meet again. Winds may 
change, and fortune yet favor the right!’ 

«We trust to the sea-green lady’s care,’ 
returned the extraordinary smuggler, 
pointing with a species of reverence, real 
or affected, to the image that was beauti- 
fully worked, in rich colors, on the velvet 
of hiscap. ‘‘ What has been will be, and 
the past gives a hope for the future. We 
meet here on neutral ground, I trust.’’ 

“Tam the commander of a royal cruiser, 
sir,’ haughtily returned the other. 

**Queen Anne may be proud of her ser- 
vant !—but we neglect our affairs. A 
thousand pardons, lovely mistress of la 
Cour des Fees. This meeting of two rude 
mariners does a slight to your beauty, and 
little credit to the fealty due the sex. 


637 


‘Having done with all compliments, I 


have to offer certain articles that never 
fail to cause the brightest eyes to grow 
more brilliant, and at which duchesses 
have gazed with many longings.’’ 

‘* You speak with confidence of your as- 
sociations, Master Seadrift, and rate noble 
personages among your customers as 
familiarly as if you dealt in offices of 
State.’’ 

‘This skillful servitor of the Queen will 
tell you, lady, that the wind which is a 
gale on the Atlantic may scarce cool the 
burning cheek of a girl on the land, and 
that the links in life are as curiously inter- 
locked as the ropes of a ship. The Ephe- 
sian temple and the Indian wigwam rested 
on the same earth.’’ 

‘*From which you infer that rank does 
not alter nature. Wemust admit, Cap- 
tain Ludlow, that Master Seadrift under- 
stands a woman’s heart when he tempts 
her with stores of tissues gay as these.’’ 

Ludlow had watched the speakers in si- 
lence. The manner of Alida was far less 
embarrassed than when he had before seen 
her in the smuggler’s company; and his 
blood fired, when he saw that their eyes 


met with asecret and friendly intelligence. 


He had remained, however, with a resolu- 
tion to be calm, and to know the worse. 
Conquering the expression of his feetings 
by a great effort, he answered with an ex- 
terior of composure, though not without 
some of that bitterness in his emphasis 
which he felt at his heart. 

«Tf Master Seadrift has this knowledge 
he may value himself on his good for- 
tune,’’ was the reply. 

‘*Much intercourse with the sex, who 
are my best customers, has something 
helped me,’’ returned the cavalier dealer 
in contraband. ‘‘ Here is a brocade whose 
fellow is worn openly in the presence of 
our royal mistress, though it came from. 
the forbidden looms of Italy; and the 
ladies of the court return from patrioti- 
cally dancing in the fabrics of home, to 
please the public eye, once in the year, 
to wear these more ageeable inventions, 
all the rest of it, to please themselves. 
Tell me, why does the Englishman, 
with his pale sun, spend thousands to 


638 WORKS 


force a sickly imitation of the gifts 
of the tropics, but because he pines for 
forbidden fruit? or why does your Paris 
gourmand roll a fig on his tongue that a 
lazzarone of Naples would cast into his 
bay, but because he wishes to enjoy the 
bounties of a low latitude under a watery 
sky? Ihave seen an individual feast on 
the eau sucre of an European pine, that 
cost a guinea, while his palate would have 
refused the same fruit, with its delicious 
compound of acid and sweet, mellowed to 
ripeness under a burning sun, merely be- 
cause he could have it for nothing. This 
is the secret of our patronage; and as the 
sex are most liable to its influence, we owe 
them most gratitude.’’ 

“You have traveled, Master Seadrift,’’ 
returned la Belle, smiling, while she tossed 
the rich contents of the bale on the car- 
pet, ‘‘and treat of usages as familiarly as 
you speak of dignities.’’ 

‘* The lady of the sea-green mantle does 
not permit an idle servant. We follow 
the direction of her guiding hand; some- 
times it points our course among the 
isles of the Adriatic, and at others on 
your stormy American coasts. There is 
little of Kurope between Gibraltar and the 
Cattegat that I have not visited.’’ 

“But Italy has been the favorite, if one 
may judge by the number of her fabrics 
that you produce.”’ 

‘Italy, France, and Flanders divide 
my custom; though you are right in be- 
lieving the former most in favor. Many 
years of early life did I pass on the noble 
coasts of that romantic region. One who 
protected and guided my infancy and 
youth even left me for a time under in- 
struction on the little plain of Sorrento.’’ 

“‘ And where can this plain be found ? 
—for the residence of so famous a rover 
may, one day, become the theme of Song, 
and is likely to occupy the leisure of the 
curious.”’ : 

“The grace of the speaker may well 
excuse the irony! Sorrento is a town on 
the southern shore of the renowned Naples 
bay. Fire has wrought many changes in 
that soft but wild country; and if, as re- 
ligionists believe, the fountains of the 
great deep were ever broken up, and the 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


earth’s crust disturbed, to permit its se- 


cret springs to issue on the surface, this 
may have been one of the spots chosen 
by Him whose touch leaves marks that 
are indelible in which to show His power. 
The bed of the earth itself, in all that re- 
gion, appears to have been but the vomit- 
ings of volcanoes; and the Sorrentine 
passes his peaceful life in the bed of an ex- 
tinguished crater. *Tis curious to see in 
what manner the men of the middle ages 


have built their town, on the margin of — 


the sea, where the element has swallowed 
one-half the ragged basin, and how they 


have taken the yawning crevices of the 


tufa for ditches to protect their walls. I 
have visited many lands, and seen Nature 
in nearly every clime; but nospothas yet 
presented, in a single view, so pleasant a 
combination of natural objects, mingled 
with mighty recollections, as that lovely 
abode on the Sorrentine cliffs ! ”’ 


‘‘Recount me these pleasures that in 


memory seem so agreeable, while I ex- 
amine farther into the contents of the 
bale.”’ 

The gay young freetrader paused, and 
seemed lost in images of the past. Then, 
witha melancholy smile, he soon continued. 
“‘Though many years are gone,” he said, 
‘‘f can recall the beauties of that scene as 
vividly as if they still stood before the eye. 


Our abode was on the verge of the cliffs. _ 
In front lay the deep blue water, and on 


its farther shore wasa line of objects such 
as accident or design rarely assembles in 
one view. Fancy thyself, lady, at my 


side, and follow the curvature of the north- _ 


ern shore, as I trace the outline of that 
glorious scene! 
and ragged island on the extreme left is 
modern Ischia. Its origin is unknown, 


though piles of lava lie along its coast, | 


which seems fresh as that thrown from the 


mountain yesterday. The long, low bit of — : 
land, insulated like its neighbor, is called — 


Procida, a scion of ancient Greece. Its 


people still preserve, in dress and speech, ‘ 
The narrow strait — 
conducts you to a high and naked bluff. — 
That is the Misenum of old. Here Aineas” 
came to land, and Rome held her fleets, 
and thence Pliny took the water, to 


marks of their origin. 


That high, mountainous — 


pestilence has since made its abode. 
- earth is still covered with the remains of 


THE WATER-WITCH. 639 


get a nearer view of the labors of 
the voleano, after its awakening from 
centuries of sleep. In the hollow of the 
ridge, between that naked bluff and the 
next swell of the mountain, lie the fabulous 
Styx, the Elysian fields, and the place of 
the dead, as fixed by the Mantuan. More 
on the height and nearer to the sea, lie, 
buried in the earth, the vast vaults of the 
Piscina Mirabilis, and the gloomy caverns 
of the Hundred Chambers; places that 
equally denote the luxury and the des- 
potism of Rome. 

‘* Nearer to the vast pile of castle, that 
is visible so many leagues, is the graceful 
and winding Baizan harbor, and against 
the side of its sheltering hills once lay the 
city of villas. To that sheltered hill em- 
perors, consuls, poets and warriors crowd- 
ed from the capital, in quest of repose, and 
to breathe the pure air of a spot in which 
The 


their magnificence, and ruins of temples 
and baths are scattered freely among the 
olives and fig trees of the peasant. A 
fainter bluff limits the northeastern boun- 
dary of the little bay. On it once stood 
the dwellings of emperors. There Casar 
sought retirement, and the warm springs 
on its side are yet called the baths of the 
bloody Nero. That small, conical hill, 
which, as you see, possesses a greener and 
fresher look than the adjoming land, is a 
cone ejected by. the caldron beneath, but 
two brief centuries since. It occupies, in 
part, the site of the ancient Lucrine lake. 
All that remains of that famous recep- 
tacle of the epicure is the small and shal- 


_low sheet at its base, which is separated 


from the sea by a mere thread of sand. 
More in the rear, and surrounded by 
dreary hills, lie the waters of Avernus. 
On their banks still stand the ruins of a 
temple, in which rites were celebrated to 
the infernal deities. The grotto of the 
Sibyl pierces that ridge on the left, and 
the Cumzan passage is nearly in its rear. 
The town which is seen a mile to the right 
is Pozzuoli—a port of the ancients, and a 
spot now visited for its temples of Jupiter 
and Neptune, its moldering amphitheater, 
and its half-buried tombs. Here Caligula 


attempted his ambitious bridge; and 
while crossing thence to Baizw, the vile 
Nero had the life of his own mother as- 
sailed. 

‘* It was there, too, that holy Paul came 
to land, when journeying a prisoner to 
Rome. The small but high island, nearly 
in its front, is Nisida, the place to which 
Marcus Brutus retired after the deed at 
the foot of Pompey’s statue, where he pos- 
sessed a villa, and whence he and Cassius 
sailed to meet the shade and the vengeance 
of the murdered Cesar at Philippi. Then 
comes a crowd of sites more known in the 
middle ages; though just below that 
mountain, in the background, is the fa- 
mous subterranean road of which Strabo 
and Seneca are said to speak, and through 
which the peasant still daily drives his ass 
to the markets of the modern city. At its 
entrance 1s the reputed tomb of Virgil, 
and then commences an amphitheater of 
white and terraced dwellings. This is 
noisy Napoli itself, crowned with its rocky 
castle of St. Kimo! The vast plain, to the 
right, is that which held the enervating 
Capua and so many other cities on its 
bosom. To this succeeds the insulated 
mountain of the volcano, with its summit 
torn in triple tops. ’Tis said that villas 
and villages, towns and cities, lie buried 
beneath the vineyards and palaces which 
crowd its base. The ancient and unhappy 
city of Pompeii stood on that luckless plain 
which, following the shores of the bay, 
comes next; and then we take up the line 
of the mountain promontory, which forms 
the Sorrentine side of the water! ”’ 

“One who has had such schooling, 
should know better how to turn it to 
a good account,’’ said Ludlow, sternly, 
when the excited smuggler ceased to 
speak. 

‘‘ In ather lands, men derive their learn- 
ing from books; in Italy, children acquire 
knowledge by the study of visible things,”’ 
was the undisturbed answer. j 

‘“‘Some from this country are fond of 
beheving that our own bay, these summer 
skies, and the climate in general, should 
have a strict resemblance to those of a 
region which lies precisely in our own lati- 
tude,’’ observed Alida, so hastily as to 


640 


betray a desire to preserve the peace be- 
tween her guests. 

«That your Manhattan and Raritan 
waters are broad and pleasant, none can 
deny, and that lovely beings dwell on their 
banks, lady,’’ returned Seadrift, gallantly 
lifting his cap, ‘‘ my own senses have wit- 
nessed. But *twere wiser to select some 
other point of your excellence for com- 
parison than a competition with the glori- 
ous waters, the fantastic and mountain 
isles, and the sunny hillsides of modern 
Napoli! ’Tis certain the latitude is even 
in your favor, and that a beneficent sun 
does not fail of its office in one region more 
than in the other. But the forests of 
America are still too pregnant of vapors 
and exhalations not to impair the purity 
of the native air. If I have seen much of 
the Mediterranean, neither am Ia stranger 
to these coasts. While there are somany 
points of resemblance in their climates, 
there are also many and marked causes of 
difference.’’ 

‘Teach us, then, what forms these dis- 
tinctions, that, in speaking of our bay and 
skies, we may not be led into error.”’ 

‘You do me honor, lady; I am of no 
great schooling, and of humble powers of 
speech. Still, the little that observation 
may have taught me shall not be churl- 
ishly withheld. Your Italian atmos- 
phere, taking the humidity of the seas, is 
sometimes hazy. Still water in large 
bodies, other than in the two seas, is little 
known in those distant countries. Few 
objects in nature are dryer than an Italian 
river, during those months when the sun 
has most influence. The effect is visible 
in the air, which 1s in general elastic, dry, 
and obedient to the general laws of the 
climate. There floats less exhalation, in 
the form of fine and nearly invisible vapor, 
than in these wooded regions. At least, 
so he of whom I spoke, as one who guided 
my youth, was wont to say.”’ 

‘“You hesitate to tell us of our skies, 
our evening light, and of our bay.”’ 

“It shall be said, and said sincerely. 
Of the bays, each seems to have been 
appropriated to that for which Nature 
most intended it—the one is poetic, indo- 
lent, and full of graceful but glorious 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


beauty; more pregnant of enjoyment — 
than of usefulness. The other will, one 
day, be the mart of the world.”” Y 

‘You still shrink from pronouncing on 
their beauty,’’ said Alida, disappointed in 
spite of an affected indifference on the 
subject. 

“It is ever the common fault of old 
communities to overvalue themselves, and 
to undervalue new actors in the great 
drama of nations, as men long success- 
ful disregard the efforts of new aspir- 
ants for favor,’’ said Seadrift, while he 
looked with amazement at the pettish eye 
of the frowning beauty. ‘‘In this 
instance, however, Europe has not so 
greatly erred. They who see much 
resemblance between the bay of Naples 
and this of Manhattan have fertile brains ; 
since it rests altogether on the circum- 
stances that there is much water in both, 
and a passage between an island and the 
mainland, in one, to resemble a passage 
between two islands in the other. This is 
an estuary, that a gulf; and: while the 
former has the green and turbid water of 
a shelving shore and tributary rivers, the 
latter has the blue and limpid element of 
a deep sea. In these distinctions, I take 
no account of ragged and rocky moun- 
tains, with the indescribable play of gold- 
en and rosy light upon their broken 
surfaces, nor of a coast that teems with 


the recollections of three thousand 
years! ”’ 
‘‘T fear to question more. But surely 


our skies may be mentioned, even by the 
side of those you vaunt ? ”’ 

‘Of the skies, truly, you have more 
reason to be confident. I remember that 
standing on the Cape di Monte, which 
overlooks the little, picturesque, and 
crowded beach of the Marina Grande, and 
Sorrento, a spot that teems with all that 
is poetic in the fisherman’s life, he of whom 
I have spoken once pointed to the trans- 
parent vault above, and said, ‘There is 
the moon of America!’ The colors of 
the rocket were not more vivid than the 
stars that night, for a Tramontana had 
swept every impurity from the air, far 
upon the neighboring sea. But nights 
like that are rare, indeed, in any clime!} 


ee pre ware wITOH. 


The inhabitants of low latitudes enjoy 
them occasionally; those of higher, 
never; — | 

“‘Then our flattering belief, that these 
western sunsets rival those of Italy, is 
delusion ? ’’ 

“Not so, lady. They rival without re- 
-sembling. The color of the etui, on which 
so fair a hand is resting, is not softer than 
the hues one sees in the heavens of Italy. 
But if your evening sky wants the pearly 
light, the rosy clouds, and the soft tints 
which, at that hour, melt into each other, 
across the entire vault of Napoli, it far 
excels in the vividness of the glow, in the 
depth of the transitions, and in the rich- 
ness of colors. Those are only more deli- 
cate, while these are more gorgeous! 
When there shall be less exhalation from 
your forests, the same causes may pro- 
duce the same effects. Until then America 
must be content to pride herself on an ex- 
hibition of Nature’s beauty in a new, 
though scarcely in a less pleasing, form.”’ 

*“Then they who come among us from 
Kurope are but half right when they 
deride the pretensions of our bay and 
heavens ? ”’ 

‘Which is much nearer the truth than 
they are wont to be, on the subject of this 
continent. Speak of the many rivers, the 
double outlets and numberless basins, and 
the unequaled facilities of your Manhattan 
harbor ; for in time they will come to render 
all the beauties of the unrivaled bay of 
Naples vain ; but tempt not the stranger 
to push the comparison beyond. Be grate- 
ful for your skies, lady, for few live under 
fairer or more beneficent. But I tire you 
with these opinions, when here are colors 
that have more charms for a young and 
lively imagination than even the tints of 
Nature! ”’ 

La belle Barberie smiled on the dealer 
in contraband with an interest that sick- 
ened Ludlow; and she was about to re- 
ply, in better humor, when the voice of 
her uncle announced his near approach. 


ha ees 


641 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


“There shall be, in England, seven half-penny 
loaves sold fora’penny. The three-hooped pot shall 
have ten hoops; and I will make it felony to drink 
small beer.”—JAcK CADE. 


Hap Alderman Van Beverout been a 
party in the preceding dialogue, he could 
not have uttered words more apposite 
than the exclamation with which he first 
saluted the ears of those in the pavilion. 

“‘Gales and climates! ’’ exclaimed the 
merchant, entering with an open letter in 
his hand. ‘‘ Hereare advices received, by 
way of Curacoa and the coast of Africa, 
that the good ship Musk-Rat met winds 
off the Azores which lengthened her pass- 
age home to seventeen weeks; this is too 
much precious time wasted between mar- 
kets, Captain Cornelius Ludlow, and ’twill 
do discredit to the good character of the 
Ship, which has hitherto always main- 
tained a sound reputation, never needing’ 
more than the regular seven months to 
make the voyage home and out again. 
If our vessels fall into this lazy train, we 
shall never get a skin to Bristol till it is 
past use. What have we here, niece! 
Merchandise! and of a suspicious fabric ! 
Who has the invoice of these goods, and 
in what vessel were they shipped ?”’ 

“* These are questions that may be better 
answered by their owner,’’ returned la 
Belle, pointing gravely, and not without 
tremor in her voice, toward the dealer in 
contraband, who, at the approach of the 
Alderman, had shrunk back as far as 
possible from view. 

Myndert cast an uneasy glance at the 
unmoved countenance of the commander 
of the royal cruiser, after having bestowed 
a brief but understanding look at the con- 
tents of the bale. ‘‘ Captain Ludlow, the 
chaser is chased !’’ he said. ‘“‘ After sail- 
ing about the Atlantic, for a week or 
more, like a Jew broker’s clerk running 
up and down the Boom Key at Rotter- 
dam, to get off a consignment of damaged 
tea, we are fairly caught ourselves! To 
what fall in prices, or change in the senti- 
ments of the Board of Trade, am I in- 
debted for the honor of this visit, Master 
a—a—a—gay dealer in green ladies and 


bright tissues ? ”’ 


642 WORKS OF 


The confident and gallant manner of the 
freetrader had vanished. In its place 
there appeared a hesitating. and embar- 
rassed air that the individual was not 
wont to exhibit, blended with some appar- 
ent indecision on the subject on his reply. 

‘‘It is the business of those who hazard 
much in order to minister to the wants of 
life,’’? he said, after a pause that was suf- 
ficiently expressive of the entire change 
in his demeanor, ‘‘ to see customers where 
there is a reputation for liberality. Il 
hope my boldness will be overlooked, on 
account of its motive, and that you will 
aid the lady in judging of the value of my 
articles, and of their reasonableness as to 
price, with your own superior experience.’’ 

Myndert was quite as much astonished 
by this language, and the subdued manner 
of the smuggler, as Ludlow himself. 
When he expected the heaviest demand 
on his address, in order to check the usual 
forward and reckless familiarity of Sea- 
drift, in order that his connections with 
the Skimmer of the Seas might be as 
much as possible involved in ambiguity, 
to his own amazement he found his pur- 
pose more than aided by the sudden and 
extraordinary respect with which he was 
treated. Emboldened, and perhaps a 
little elevated in his own esteem, by this 
unexpected deference, which the worthy 
Alderman, shrewd as he was in common, 
did not fail, like other men, to impute to 
some inherent quality of his own, he 
answered with a greater depth of voice 
and a more protecting air than he might 
otherwise have deemed it prudent to as- 
sume to one who had so frequently given 
him proofs of his own fearless manner of 
viewing things. 

‘This is being more eager as a trader 
than prudent as one who should know the 
value of credit,’’ he said, making, at the 
same time, a lofty gesture to betoken in- 
dulgence for so venial an error. ‘‘ We 
must overlook the mistake, Captain Lud- 
low, since, as the young man truly ob- 
serves in his defense, gain acquired in 
honest traffic is a commendable and whole- 
some pursuit. One who appears as if he 
might not be ignorant of the laws, should 
know that our virtuous Queen and her 


FENIMORE COOPER. 


wise counselors have decided that Mother 
England can produce most that a colonist 
can consume! Aye! and that she can 
consume, too, most that the colonist can 
produce !’’ 

‘“T pretend not to this ignorance, sir ; 
but, in pursuing my humble barter, I 
merely follow a principle of nature by 
endeavoring to provide for my own in- 
terests. We of the contraband do but 
play at hazard with the authorities. When 
we pass the gauntlet unharmed, we gain ; 
and when we lose, the servants of the 
crown find their profit. The stakes are 
equal, and the game should not be stig- 
matized as unfair. Would the rulers of 
the world once remove the unnecessary 
shackles they impose on commerce, our 
calling would disappear, and the name of 
freetrader would then belong to the rich- 
est and most esteemed houses.’ 

The Alderman drew a long, low whistle. 
Motioning to his companion to be seated, 
he placed his own compact person in a 
chair, crossed his legs with an air of self- 
complacency, and resumed the discourse. 

‘These are very pretty sentiments, 
Master—a—a—a—y ou bear a worthy name 
no doubt, my ingenious commentator on 
commerce ? ”’ 

«‘ They call me Seadrift when “tie spare 
a harsher term,’’ returned the other, meek- 
ly declining to be seated. | 

«“These are pretty sentiments, Master 
Seadrift, and they much become a gentle- 
man who lives by practical comments on 
the revenue laws. This is a wise world, 
Captain Cornelius Ludlow, and init there ~ 
are many men whose heads are filled, like — 
bales of goods, with a general assortment 
of ideas. Hornbooks and primers! Here 
have Van Bummel, Schoenbroeck, and — 
Van der Donck, just sent me a very 
neatly-folded pamphlet, written In good ~ 
Leyden Dutch, to prove that trade is an — 
exchange of what the author calls equiva- 
lents, and that nations have nothing to — 
do but throw open their ports in order — 
to make a millennium among the mer- — 
chants.”’ | 

«There are many ingenious men who — 
entertain the same opinions,’’? observed 
Ludlow, steady in his resolution to be — 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


merely a quiet observer of all that 
passed. -. pigs 

“What cannot a cunning head devise, 
to spoil paper with! Trade is a racer, 
gentlemen, and merchants the jockeys 
who ride. He who carries most weight 
may lose; but then Nature does not give 
all men the same dimensions, and judges 
are aS necessary to the struggles of the 
mart as those of the course. Go, mount 
your gelding if you are lucky enough to 
have one that has not been melted into a 
weasel by the heartless blacks, and ride 
out to Harlem Flats on a fine October 
day, and witness the manner in which the 
trial of speed is made. The rogues of 
riders cut in here and over there; now the 
whip and now the spur ; and though they 
Start fair, which is more than can always 
be said of trade, some one is sure to 
win. When it is neck and neck, then 
the heat is to be gone over, until the 
best bottom gains the prize.’’ 

“Why is it then that men of deep re- 
flection so often think that. commerce 
flourishes most when least encumbered ? ”’ 

“Why is one man born to make laws, 
and another to break them? Does not 
the horse run faster with his four legs 
free, then when in hopples? But in 
trade, Master Seadrift, and Captain Cor- 
nelius Ludlow, each of us is his own 
jockey; and putting the aid of custom- 
house laws out of the question, just as 
Nature has happened to make him. Fat 
or lean, big bones or fine bones, he must 
get to the goal as well as he can. There- 
fore your heavy weights call out for 
sand-bags and belts, to make ‘all even. 
That the steed may be crushed with his 
load is no proof that his chance of win- 
ning will not be better by bringing all 
the riders to the same level.’’ 

** But to quit these similes,’’? continued 
Ludlow, “‘if trade be but an exchange of 
equivalents——’’ 

‘“‘ Beggary and stoppages !’’ interrupted 
the Alderman, who was far more dogmat- 
ical than courteous in argument. ‘ This 
is the language of men who have read all 
sorts of books but ledgers. Here have I 
advices from Tongue & Twaddle, of Lon- 
don, which state the net proceeds of a 


643 


little adventure, shipped by the brig 
Moose, that reached the river on the 16th 
of April, ultimo. The history of the 
whole transaction can be put in a child’s 
mufi—you are a discreet youth, Captain 
Cornelius ; and as to you, Master Seadrift, 
the affair is altogether out of your line— 
therefore, as I was observing, here are the 
items, made only a fortnight since, in the 
shape of a memorandum ;”’ while speaking 
the Alderman had placed his spectacles 
and drawn his tablets froma pocket. Ad- 
justing himself to the light, he continued : 
‘Paid bill of Sand, Furnace, and Glass, 
for beads, £32 6. Package and box, 1 
10$. Shipping charges and freight, 11 
4. Insurance averaged at,15. Freight, 
charges and commission of agent, among 
Mohawks, £10. Do. do. do. of shipment 
and sale of furs, in England, £72. Total 
of costs and charges, £20 19 14, all in 
Sterling money. Note, sale of furs, to 
Frost & Rich, net avails, £196 113. Bal- 
ance, aS per contra, £175 2254: a very 
satisfactory equivalent this, Master Cor- 
nelius, to appear on the books of Tongue 
& Twaddle, where I stand charged with 
the original investment of £20 19 14! 
How much the Empress of Germany may 
pay the firm of Frost & Rich for the 
articles does not appear.”’ 

‘* Nor does it appear that more was got 
for your beads, in the Mohawk country, 
than they were valued at there, or was 
paid for the skins than they were worth 
where they were produced.’’ 

‘* Whe-w-w-w !’’ whistled the merchant 
as he returned the tablets to his pocket. 

‘One would think that thou hadst been 
studying the Leyden pamphleteer, son of 
my old friend! If the savage thinks so 
little of his skins, and so much of my 
beads, I shall never take the pains to set 
him right; else, always by permission of 
the Board of Trade, we shall see him, one 
day, turning his bark canoe into a good 
ship and going in quest of his own orna- 
ments. Enterprise and voyages! Who 
knows but that the rogue would see fit 
to stop at London, even; in which case 
the mother country might lose the profit 
of the sale at Vienna, and the Mohawk set 
up his carriage on the difference in the 


644 


value of markets! Thus, you see, in order 
to run a fair race, the horses must start 
even, carry equal weights, and, after all, 
one commonly wins. Your metaphysics 
are no better than so much philosophical 
gold leaf, which a cunning reasoner beats 
out into a sheet as large as the broadest 
American lake, to make dunces believe 
the earth can be transmitted into the 
precious material; while a plain, practi- 
cal man puts the value of the metal into 
his pocket in good current coin.’’ 

«And yet I hear you complain that 
Parliament has legislated more than is 
good for trade, and speak in a manner of 
the proceedings at home, that, you will 
excuse me for saying, would better be- 
come a Hollander than a subject of the 
crown.” 

‘‘Have I not told you, that the horse 
will run faster without the rider than 
with a pack-saddle on his back? Give 
your own jockey as little, and your ad- 
versary’s as much weight as you can, if 
you wish to win. I complain of the bor- 
ough-men, because they make laws for 
us, and not for themselves. As I often 
tell my worthy friend, Alderman Gulp, 
eating is good for life, but the surfeit 
makes a will necessary.’’ 

‘‘ From all which I infer, that the opin- 
ions of your Leyden correspondent are 
not those of Mr. Van Beverout.”’’ 

The Alderman laid a finger on his nose, 
and looked at his companions, for a mo- 
ment, without answering. 

‘‘“Those Leydeners are a sagacious 
breed! If the United Provinces had but 
ground to stand on, they would, like the 
philosopher who boasted of his lever, 
move the world! The sly rogues think 
that the Amsterdammers have naturally 
an easy seat, and they wish to persuade 
all others to ride bare-back. I shall send 
a pamphlet up into the Indian country, 
and pay some scholar to have it trans- 
lated into the Mohawk tongue, in order 
that the famous chief Schendoh, when the 
missionaries shall have taught him to 
read, may entertain right views of equiva- 
lents! lam not certain that I may not 
make the worthy divines a present to help 
the good fruits to ripen.”’ 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


The Alderman leered round upon his 
auditors, and folding his hands meekly on 
his breast, he appeared to leave his elo- 
quence to work its own effects. 

““These opinions favor but little the 
occupation of the—the gentleman—who 
now honors us with his company,” said 
Ludlow, regarding the gay-looking smug- 


gler with an eye that showed how much 


he was embarrassed to find a suitable 
appellation for one whose appearance was 
so much at variance with his pursuits. 
“Tf restrictions are necessary to com- 
merce, the lawless trader is surely left 
without an excuse for his calling.”’ 

‘“T as much admire your discretion in 
practice, as the justice of your sentiments 
in theory, Captain Ludlow,”’ returned the 
Alderman. “Inarencontre on the high 
seas, it would be your duty to render cap- 
tive the brigantine of this person; but, in 
what may be called the privacy of domes- 
tic retirement, you are content to ease 
your mind in moralities! 1 feel- it my 
duty, too, to speak on this point, and shall 
take so favorable an occasion, when all is 
pacific, to disburden myself of some senti- 
ments that suggest themselves very nat- 
urally under the circumstances.’ Myndert 
then turned himself toward the dealer in 
contraband, and continued, much in the 
manner of a city magistrate reading a les- 
son of propriety to some disturber of the 
peace of society. ‘‘ You appear here, Mas- 
ter Seadrift,’’ he said, ‘‘ under what, to bor- 
row a figure from your profession, may be 
called false colors. You bear the counte- 


nance of one who might be a useful sub- — 


ject, and yet you are suspected of being 
addicted to certain practices which—I will 
not say they are dishonest or even discredi- 
table, for on that head the opinions of men 


. aie 
ee YS ——_— = 


are much divided—but which certainly 


have no tendency to assist her Majesty in 
bringing her wars to a glorious issue, by 
securing to her European dominions that 
monopoly of trade, by which it is her 
greatest desire to ease us of the colonies of 
looking any farther after our particular 
interests, than beyond the doors of her 
own custom-houses. This is an indis- 
cretion, to give the act its gentlest appel- 
lation; and I regret to add, it is accom- 


is the ornament of its front. 


THE WATEHR-WITCH. 


panied. by certain circumstances which 
rather eenten than lessen the delin- 
quency.’ 

The Alderman paused a Teeak to ob- 
serve the effect of his admonition, and to 
judge, by the eye of the freetrader, how 
much farther he might push his artifice ; 
but perceiving, to his own surprise, that 
the other bent his face to the fioor, and 
stood like one rebuked, he took courage 
to proceed. ‘‘ You have introduced into 
this portion of my dwelling, which is ex- 
clusively inhabited by my niece, who is 
neither of a sex nor of years to be legally 
arraigned of any oversight of this nature, 
sundries of which it is the pleasure of the 
Queen’s advisers that her subjects in the 
colonies should not know the use, since, 
in the nature of fabrications, they cannot 
be submitted to the supervising care of 
the ingenious artisans of the mother 
island. Woman, Master Seadrift, is a 
creature liable to the influence of temp- 
tation, and in few things is she weaker 
than in her efforts to resist the allure- 
ments of articles which may aid in adorn- 
ing her person. My niece, the daughter 
of Etienne Barberie, may also have an 
hereditary weakness on this head, since 
the females of France study these inven- 
tions more than those of some other coun- 
tries. It is not my intention, however, to 
manifest any unreasonable severity ; since, 
if old Etienne has communicated any he- 
reditary feebleness on the subject of fancy, 
he has also left his daughter the means of 
paying for it. Hand in your account, 
therefore, and the debt shall be dis- 
charged, if debt has been incurred. And 
this brings me to the last and the oe 
of your offenses. 

** Capital is no doubt the foundation on 
which a merchant builds his edifice of 
character,’’ continued Myndert, after tak- 
ing another jealous survey of the counte- 
nance of him he addressed; ‘‘ the credit 
This is a 
corner-stone ; that the pilasters and carv- 
ings by which the building is rendered 
pleasant ; sometimes, when age has un- 
dermined the basement, it is the columns 
on which the superstructure rests, or even 
- the roof by which the occupant is shel- 


645 


tered. It renders the rich man safe, the 
dealer of moderate means active and re- 
spectable, and it causes even the poor man 
to hold up his head in hope, though I ad- 
mit that buyer and seller need both be. 
wary, when it stands unsupported by any 
substantial base. This being the value of 
credit, Master Seadrift, none should assail 
it without sufficient cause, for its quality 
is of a nature too tender for rude treat- 
ment. I learned, when a youth, in my 
travels in Holland, through which coun- 
try, by means of the Trekschuyts, I passed 
with sufficient deliberation to profit by — 
what was seen, the importance of avoid- 
ing, on all occasions, bringing credit into 
disrepute. As one event that occurred 
offers an apposite parallel to what I have 
now to advance, I shall make a tender of 
the facts in the way of illustration. The 
circumstances show the awful uncertainty 
of things in this transitory life, Captain 
Ludlow, and forewarn the most vigorous 
and youthful, that the strong arm may be 
cut down in his pride, like the tender plant 
of the fields! The banking-house of Van 
Gelt and Van Stopper, in Amsterdam, 
had dealt largely in securities issued by 
the Emperor for the support of his wars. 
It happened, at the time, that fortune had 
favored the Ottoman, who was then press- 
ing the city of Belgrade with some pros- 
pects of success. Well, sirs, a headstrong 
and ill-advised laundress had taken posses- 
sion of an elevated terrace in the center of 
the town, in order to dry her clothes. 
This woman was in the act of commencing 
the distribution of her muslias and linens, 
with the break of day, when the Mussul- 
mans awoke the garrison by a rude as- 
sault. Some, who had been posted in a 
position that permitted of retreat, having 
seen certain bundles of crimson, and green, 
and yellow, on an elevated parapet, mis- 
took them for the heads of somany Turks ; 
and they spread the report, far and near, 
that a countless band of the Infidels, led 
on by avast number of sherriffes in green 
turbans, had gained the heart of the place, 
before they were induced to retire. 

‘‘The rumor soon took the shape of a 
circumstantial detail, and, having reached 
Amsterdam, it caused the funds of the 


646 


Imperialists to look down. There was 
much question, onthe Exchange, concern- 
ing the probable loss of Van Gelt and Van 
Stopper in consequence. Just as specula- 
tion was at its greatest height on this 
head, the monkey of a Savoyard escaped. 
from its string, and concealed itself in a 
nut shop, a few doors distant from the 
banking house of the firm, where a crowd 
of Jew boys collected to witness its antics. 
Men of reflection, seeing what they mis- 
took for a demonstration on the part. of 
the children of the Israelites, began to feel 
uneasiness for their own property. Drafts 
multiplied: and the worthy bankers, in 
order to prove their solidity, disdained to 
shut their doors at the usualhour. Money 
was paid throughout the night; and be- 
fore noon on the following day Van Gelt 
had cut his throat, in a summer-house 
that stood on the banks of the Utrecht 
Canal; and Van Stopper was seen smok- 
ing a pipe, among strong boxes that were 
entirely empty. At two o’clock, the post 
brought the intelligence that the Mussul- 
mans were repulsed, and that the laun- 
dress was hanged; though I never knew 
exactly for what crime, as she certainly 
was not a debtor of the unhappy firm. 
These are some of the warning events of 
life, gentlemen; and as I feel sure of ad- 
dressing those who are capable of making 
the application, I shall now conclude by 
advising all who hear me to great discre- 
tion of speech on every matter connected 
with commercial character.’’ 

When Myndert ceased speaking, he 
threw another glance around him, in or- 
der to note the effect his words had pro- 
duced, and more particularly to ascertain 
whether he had not drawn a draft on the 
forbearance of the freetrader which might 
still meet with a protest. He was ata 
loss to account for the marked and unusual 
deference with which he was treated, by 
one who, while he was never coarse, seldom 
exhibited much complaisance for the opin- 
ions of a man he was in the habit of meet- 
ing so familiarly on matters of pecuniary 
interest. During the whole of the foregoing 
harangue, the young mariner of the brig- 
antine had maintained the same attitude 
of modest attention ; and when his eyes 


= 


WORKS OF FENIMORE * COOPER. 


were permitted to rise, it was only to steal 
uneasy looks atthe face of Alida. La belle 
Barberie had also listened to her uncle’s 
eloquence witha more thoughtful air than 
common. She met the occasional glances 
of the dealer in contraband with answering 
sympathy; and, in short, the most indif- 
ferent observer of their deportment might 
have seen that circumstances had created 
between them a confidence and intelligence 
which, if it were not absolutely of the 
most tender, was unequivocally of the 
most intimate character. All this Ludlow 
plainly saw, though the burgher had been 
too much engrossed with the ideas he had 
so complacently dealt out to note the fact. 

“Now that my mind is so well stored 
with maxims on. commerce, which I shall 
esteem aS SO many commentaries on the 
instructions of my Lords of the Admi- 
ralty,’’? observed the Captain, after a brief 
interval of silence, ‘‘it may be permitted 
to turn our attention to things less meta- 
physical. The present occasion is favor- 
able to inquire after the fate of the ship- 
mate we lost in the last cruise; and it © 
ought by no means to be neglected.” 

‘*You speak truth, Mr. Cornelius. The 
Patroon of Kinderhook is not a man to— 
fall into the sea, like an anker of forbidden — 
liquor, and no questions asked. Leave | 
this matter to my discretion, sir; and — 
trust me, the tenants of the third best | 
estate in the colony shall not long be with- : 
out tidings of their landlord. If you will — 
accompany Master Seadrift into the other — 
part of the villa for a reasonable time, I 
shall possess myself of all the facts that — 
are at all pertinent to the right under- 
standing of the case.”’ 

The commander of the royal cruiser, and — 
the yeung mariner of the brigantine, ap-— 
peared to think that a compliance with — 
this invitation would bring about a singu- — 
lar association. The hesitation of the 
latter, however, was far the most visible, 
since Ludlow had coolly determined to- 
maintain his neutral character until a 
proper moment to act, as a faithful servi- © 
tor of his royal mistress, should arrive. 

He knew, or firmly believed, that the 
Water-Witch again lay in the Cove, con® 
cealed by the shadows of the surrounding 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


wood ; and as he had once before suffered 
by the superior address of the smugglers, 
he was now resolved to act with so much 
caution as to enable him to return to his 
ship in time to proceed against her with 
decision, and, as he hoped, with effect. In 
addition to this motive for artifice, there 
was that in the manner and language of 
the contraband dealer to place him alto- 
gether above the ordinary men of his pur- 
suit, and indeed to create in his favor a 
certain degree of interest, which the officer 
of the crown was compelled to admit. He 
therefore bowed with sufficient courtesy, 
and professed his readiness to follow the 
suggestions of the Alderman. 

“We have met on neutral ground, Mas- 
ter Seadrift,”” said Ludlow to his gay 
companion, as they quitted the saloon of 
la Cour des Fees; ‘‘and though bent on 
different objects, we may discourse amica- 
bly on the past. The Skimmer of the Seas 
has a reputation, in his way, that almost 
raises him to the level of a seaman dis- 
tinguished in a better service. I will ever 
testify to his skill and coolness as a mar- 
iner, however much I may lament that 
those fine qualities have received so un- 
happy a direction.”’ 

«This is speaking with a becoming 
reservation for the rights of the Crown, 
and with meet respect for the Barons of 
the Exchequer,’’ retorted Seadrift, whose 
former, and we may say natural, spirit 
seemed to return, as he left the presence 
of the burgher. ‘‘ We follow the pursuit, 
Captain Ludlow, in which accident has cast 
our fortunes. You serve a Queen you 
never saw, and a nation who will use you 
in her need and despise you in her pros- 
perity ; and I serve myself. Let reason 
decide between us.”’ 

“¢T admire this frankness, sir, and have 
hopes of a better understanding between 
us, now that you have done with the mys- 
tifications of your sea-green woman. The 
farce has been well enacted; though, 
with the exception of Oloff Van Staats 
and those enlightened spirits you lead 


about the ocean, it has not made many |’ 


converts to necromancy.”’ 
The freetrader permitted his handsome 
mouth to relax in a smile. 


647 


** We have our mistress, too,’’ he said ; 
*“but she exacts no tribute. All that is 
gained goes to enrich her subjects, while 
all that she knows is cheerfully imparted 
for their use. If we are obedient, it is 
because we have experienced her justice 
and wisdom. I hope Queen Anne deals 
as kindly by these who risk life and limb 
in her cause? ”’ 

“Is it part of the policy of her you fol- 
low to reveal the fate of the Patroon? for, 
though rivals in one dear object—or rather 
I should say, once rivals in that object—I 
cannot see a guest quit my ship with so 
little ceremony without an interest in his 
welfare.’ 

“You make a just distinction,’’ re- 
turned Seadrift, smiling still more mean- 
ingly; ‘‘once rivals is indeed the better 
expression. Mr. Van Staats isa brave 
man, however ignorant he may be of the 
Sseaman’s art. One who has shown so 
much spirit will be certain of protection 
from personal injury in the care of the 
Skimmer of the Seas.”’ 

**T do not constitute myself the keeper 
of Mr. Van Staats; still, as the com- 
mander of the ship whence he has been 
—what shall I term the manner of his 
abduction ?—for I would not willingly use, 
at this moment, a term that may prove 
disagreeable 14 

‘‘Speak freely, sir, and fear not to of- 
fend. We of the brigantine are accus- 
tomed to divers epithets that might 
startle less practiced ears. We are not 
to learn, at this late hour, that in order 
to become respectable, roguery must 
have the sanction of government. You 
were pleased, Captain Ludlow, to name 
the mystifications of the Water-Witch ; 
but you seem indifferent to those that 
are hourly practiced near you in the 
world, and which, without the pleasant- 
ry of ees of ours, have not half its in- 
nocence.’ 

*‘There is little novelty in the expedi- 
ent of seeking to justify the delinquency 
of individuals by the failings of society.’’ 
“I confess it is rather just than origi- 
nal. Triteness and truth appear to be 
sisters! And yet do we find ourselves 
driven to this apology, since the refine- 


648 


ment of us of the brigantine has not yet 
attained to the point of understanding 
all the excellence of novelty in morals.’’ 

‘‘T believe there is a mandate of suf- 
ficient antiquity, which bids us to ren- 
der unto Ozsar the things which are 
Ceesar’s.”’ 

«<A mandate which our modern Ceesars 

“have most liberally construed! I am a 
poor casuist, sir; nor do I think the loyal 
commander of the Coquette would wish to 
uphold all that sophistry can invent on 
such a subject.. If we begin with poten- 
tates, for instance, we shall find the Most 
Christian King bent on appropriating as 
many of his neighbors’ goods to his own 
use, as ambition, under the name of glory, 
can covet; the Most Catholic, covering 
with the mantle of his Catholicity a 
greater multitude of enormities, on this 
very continent, than even charity itself 
could conceal; and our own gracious 
sovereign, whose virtues and whose mild- 
ness are celebrated in verse and in prose, 
causing rivers of blood to run, in order 
that the little island over which she rules 
may swell out, like the frog in the fable, 
to dimensions that Nature has denied, and 
which will one day inflict the unfortunate 
death that befell the ambitious inhabitant 
of the pool. The gallows awaits the pick- 
pocket ; but your robber under a pennant is 
dubbed a knight! The man who amasses 
wealth by gainful industry is ashamed 
of his origin; while he who has stolen 
from churches, laid villages under contri- 
bution, and cut throats by thousands, to 
divide the spoils of a galleon or a military 
chest, has gained gold on the highway to 
glory! Europe has reached an exceeding 
pass of civilization, it may not be denied ; 
but before society inflicts so severe censure 
on the acts of individuals, notwithstand- 
ing the triteness of the opinion, I must 
say it is bound to look more closely to the 
example it,sets, in its collective charac- 
ter.’’ 

‘“These are points on which our dif- 
ference of opinion is likely to be lasting,”’’ 
said Ludlow, assuming the severe air of 
one who had the world on his side. ‘‘ We 
will defer the discussion to a moment of 
greater leisure, sir. Am I to learn more 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


oa 


of Mr. Van Staats, or is the question of 
his fate to become the subject of a serious 
official inquiry ? ”’ 

«“The Patroon of Kinderhook is a bold 
boarder ! ’’ returned the freetrader, laugh- 
ing. ‘‘ Hehas carried the residence of the 
lady of the brigantine by a coup-de-main ; 
and he reposes on his laurels! We of the 
contraband are merrier in our privacy 
than is thought, and those who join our 
mess seldom wish to quit it.”’ 

«‘ There may be occasion to look farther 
into its mysteries—until when, I wish you 
adieu.’’ 

‘Hold !’’ gayly cried the other, obsery- 
ing that Ludlow was about to quit the 
room, ‘‘let the time of uncertainty be 
short, I pray thee. Our mistress is like 
the insect which takes the color of the leaf 
on which it dwells. You have seen her in 
her sea-green robe, which she never fails 
to wear when roving over the soundings 
of your American coast ; but in the deep 
waters her mantle vies with the blue of 
the ocean depths. Symptoms ofa change, 
which always denote an intended excur- — 
sion far beyond the influence of the land, 
have been seen.”’ | 

‘‘Harkee, Master Seadrift ! This fool- — 
ery may do, while you possess the power . 
to maintain it. But remember, that — 
though the law only punishes the illegal 
trader by confiscation of his goods when 
taken, it punishes the kidnapper with 
personal pains, and sometimes with- - 
death! And more—remember that the 
line which divides smuggling from piracy 
is easily passed, while the return becomes 
impossible.”’ 

‘‘ For this generous counsel, in my mis- 
tress’s name, I thank thee,’’ the gay mar- — 
iner replied, bowing with a gravity that 
rather heightened than concealed his irony. — 
“Your Coquette is broad in the reach of 
her booms, and swift on the water, Cap- 
tain Ludlow; but let her be capricious, 
willful, deceitful, nay powerful, as she 
may, she shall find a woman in the brig- 
antine equal to all her arts, and far ue 
rior to all her threats ! ”’ 

With this prophetic warning on the aa 
of the Queen’s officer, and cool reply on 
that of the dealer in contraband, the two 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


sailors separated. The latter took a book 
and threw himself into a chair, with a well- 
maintained indifference; while the other 
left the house, in a haste that was not 
disguised. 

In the meantime, the interview between 
Alderman Van Beverout and his niece still 
continued. Minute passed after minute, 
yet there was no summons tothe pavilion. 
The gay young seaman of the brigantine 
had continued his studies for some time 
after the disappearance of Ludlow, and he 
now evidently awaited an intimation that 
his presence was required in la Cour des 
Fees. During these moments of anxiety, 
the air of the freetrader was sorrowfal 
rather than impatient; and when a foot- 
step was heard at the door of the room, 
he betrayed symptoms of strong and un- 
controllable agitation. It was the female 
attendant of Alida, who entered, presented 
a slip of paper, and retired. The eager 
expectant read the following words, hastily 
written in pencil : 

<‘T have evaded all his questions, and he 
is more than half disposed to believe in 
necromancy. This is not the moment to 
confess the truth, for he is not in a condi- 
tion to hear it, being already much dis- 
turbed by the uncertainty of what may 
follow the appearance of the brigantine on 
the coast, and so near his own villa. But, 
be assured, he shall and will acknowledge 
claims that I know how to support, 
and which, should I fail of establishing, 
he would not dare to refuse to the redoubt- 
able Skimmer-of the Seas. Come hither, 
the moment you hear his foot in the pas- 
sage.”’ 

The last injunction was soon obeyed. 
The Alderman entered by one door as the 
active fugitive retreated by another ; and 
where the weary burgher expected to see 
his guests, he found an empty apart- 
ment. This last circumstance, however, 
gave Myndert Van Beverout but little sur- 
prise and no concern, as would appear by 
the indifference with which he noted the 
circumstance. 

““Vagaries and womanhcod !”’ thought 
rather than muttered the Alderman. 
‘«‘The jade turns like a fox in his track, 
and it would be easier to convict a mer- 


649 


chant who values his reputation, to a false 
invoice, than this minx of nineteen of an 
indiscretion! There is so much of old 
Etienne and his Norman blood in her eye 
that one does not like to provoke extrem- 
ities; but here, when I expected Van 
Staats had profited by his opportunity, 
the girl looks like a nun at the mention of 
his name. The Patroon is no Cupid, we 
must allow; or, in a week at sea, he 
would have won the heart of a mermaid ! 
Aye—and here are more perplexities by 
the return of the Skimmer and his brig, 
and the notions that young Ludlow has of 
his duty. Life and morality! One must 
quit trade at some time or other, and 
begin to close the books. I must seriously 
think of striking a final balance. If the 
sum total was a little more in my favor, 
it should be done to-morrow ! ”’ 


CHAPTER XXV. 


“Thou, Julia, thou hast metamorphosed me; 
Made me neglect my studies, lose my time, 
War with good counsel, set the world at naught.” 
—Two GENTLEMEN OF VERONA. 


LuDLOW quitted the Lust in Rust with 
a wavering purpose. Throughout the 
whole of the preceding interview he had 
jealously watched the eye and features of 
la belle Barberie ; and he had not failed to 
draw his conclusions from a mien that too 
plainly expressed a deep interest in the 
freetrader. For a time, only, had he 
been induced, by the calmness and: self-. 
possession with which she received her 
uncle and himself, to believe that she had 
not visited the Water-Wirtch at all; but 
when the gay and reckless being’ who 
governed the movements of that ex- 
traordinary vessel appeared, he could no 
longer flatter himself with this hope. He 
now believed that her choice for life had 
been made; and while he deplored the in- 
fatuation which could induce so gifted a 
woman to forget her station and character, 
he was himself too frank not to see that 
the individual who had in so short a time 
gained this ascendency over the feelings 
of Alida, was, in many respects, fitted to 
exercise a powerful influence over the 


650. 


imagination of a youthful and secluded 
female. 

There was a struggle in the mind of the 
young commander between his duty and 
his feelings. Remembering the artifice by 
which he had formerly fallen into the 
power of the smugglers, he had taken his 
precaution so well in the present visit to 
the villa, that he firmly believed he had 
the person of his lawless rival at his 
mercy. To avail himself of this advan- 
tage, or to retire and leave him in posses- 
sion of his mistress and his liberty, was the 
point mooted in his thoughts. Though 
direct and simple in his habits, like most 
of the seamen of that age, Ludlow had all 
the loftier sentiments that become a gen- 
tleman. He felt keenly for Alida, and he 
shrank, with sensitive pride, from incur- 
ring the imputation of having acted under 
the impulse of disappointment. To these 
motives of forbearance, was also to be 
added the inherent reluctance which, as 
an officer of rank, he felt to the degrada- 
tion of being employed in a duty that more 
properly belongs to men of less elevated 
ambition. He looked on himself as a de- 
fender of the rights and glory of his sove- 
reign, and not as a mercenary instrument 
of those who collected her customs; and 
though he would not have hesitated to 
incur any rational hazard, in capturing 
the vessel of the smuggler, or in making 
captives of all or any of her crew on their 
proper element, he disliked the appearance 
of seeking a solitary individual on the 
land. In addition to this feeling, there 
was his own pledge that he met the pro- 
scribed dealer in contraband on neutral 
ground. Stillthe officer of the Queen had 
his orders, and he could not shut his eyes 
to the general obligations of duty. The 
brigantine was known to inflict so much 
loss on the revenue of the crown, more 
particularly in the other hemisphere, that 
an especial order had been issued by the 
Admiral of the station for her capture. 
Here then was an opportunity of depriv- 
ing the vessel of that master spirit which, 
notwithstanding the excellence of its con- 
struction, had alone so long enabled it to 
run the gauntlet of a hundred cruisers 
with impunity. Agitated by these con- 


t 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


tending feelings and reflections, the young 
sailor left the door of the villa, and came 
upon its little lawn, in order to reflect with 
less interruption, and, indeed, to breathe 
more freely. 

The night had advanced into the first 
watch of the seaman. The shadow of 
the mountain, however, still covered the 
grounds of the villa, the river, and the 
shores of the Atlantic, with a darkness 
that was deeper than the obscurity 
which dimmed the surface of the rolling 
ocean beyond. Objects were so indistinct 
as to require close and steady looks to 
ascertain their character, while the set- 
ting of the scene might be faintly traced 
by its hazy and indistinct outlines. The 
curtains of la Cour des Fees had been 
drawn, and, though the lights were shin- 
ing within, the eye could not penetrate 
the pavilion. Ludlow gazed about him, 
and held his way reluctantly toward 
the water. 

In endeavoring to conceal the interior 
of her apartment from the eyes of those 
without, Alida had suffered a corner of 
the drapery to remain open. When Lud- 
low reached the gate that led to the land- 
ing, he turned to take a last look at 
the villa; and, favored by his new posi- 
tion, he caught a glimpse, through the 
opening, of the person of her who was 
still uppermost in his thoughts. 

La belle Barberie was seated at the 
little table by whose side she had been 
found earlier in the evening. An elbow 
rested on the precious wood, and one fair 
hand supported a brow that was thought- 
ful beyond the usual character of its 
expression, if not melancholy. The com- 
mander of the Coquette felt the blood 
rushing to his heart, for he fancied that — 
the beautiful and pensive countenance 
was that of a penitent. It is probable © 
that the idea quickened his drooping 
hopes; for Ludlow believed it might not — 
yet be too late to rescue the woman he ~ 
so sincerely loved, from the precipice — 
over which she was suspended. The 
seemingly irretrievable step already taken : 
was forgotten; and the generous young — 
sailor was about to rush back to la Cour — 
des Fees, to implore its mistress to be 


- his voice with an absorbed attention. 


THH WATER-WITCH. 


651 


just to herself, when the hand fell from } the man whom he so much envied was at 


her polished brow, and Alida raised her 
face, with a look which denoted that she 
was no longer alone. The Captain drew 
back to watch the issue. 

When Alida lifted her eyes, it was in 
kindness and with that frank ingenuous- 
ness with which an unperverted female 
greets the countenance of those who have 
her confidence. She smiled, though still 
in sadness rather than in pleasure; and 
she spoke, but the distance prevented her 
words from being audible. At the next 
instant Seadrift moved into the space 
visible through the half-drawn drapery, 
and took her hand. Alida made no effort 
to withdraw; but, on the contrary, she 
looked up into his face with still less equi- 
vocal interest, and appeared to listen to 
The 
gate swung violently open, and Ludlow 
had reached the margin of the river before 
he again paused. 

The barge of the Coquette was found 
where her commander had ordered his 
people to lie concealed, and he was about 
to enter it, when the noise of the little 
gate, again shutting with the wind, in- 
duced him to cast a look behind. A hu- 
man form was distinctly to be seen, against 
the light walls of the villa, decending tow- 
ard theriver. The men were commanded 
to keep close, and, withdrawing within 
the shadow of a fence, the Captain waited 
the approach of the new-comer. . 

As the unknown person passed, Ludlow 
‘recognized the agile form of the free- 
trader. The latter advanced to the mar- 
gin of the river, and gazed warily about 
him for several minutes. <A low but dis- 
tinct note, on a common ship’s call, was 
then heard. ‘The summons was soon suc- 
ceeded by the appearance of a small skiff, 
which glided out of the grass on the 
opposite side of the stream, and ap- 
proached the spot where Seadrift awaited 
its arrival. The freetrader sprang lightly 
into the little boat, which immediately be- 
gan to glide out of the river. As the skiff 
passed the spot where he stood, Ludlow 
saw that it was pulled by a single seaman 5 
and, as his own boat was manned by six 
lusty rowers, he felt that the person of 


length fairly and honorably in his power. 
We shall not attempt to analyze the 
emotion that was ascendant in the mind 
of the young officer. It is enough for our 
purpose to add that he was soon in his 
boat and in full pursuit. 

As the course to be taken by the barge 
was diagonal rather than direct, a few 
powerful strokes of the oars brought it 
so near the skiff that Ludlow, by plac- 
ing his hand on the gunwale of the latter, 
could arrest its progress. 

‘*Though so lightly equipped, fortune 
favors you less in boats than in larger 
craft, Master Seadrift,’’ said Ludlow, 
when, by virtue of a strong arm, he had 
drawn his prize so near as to find himself 
seated within a few feet of his prisoner. 
‘‘We meet on our proper element, where 
there can be no neutrality between one 
of the contraband and a servant of the 
(Jueen.”’ 

The start, the half-repressed exclama- 
tion and the momentary silence showed 
that the captive had been taken com- 
pletely by surprise. 

“‘] admit your superior dexterity,’’ he 
at length said, speaking low and _ not 
without agitation. ‘‘I am your prisoner, 
Captain Ludlow; and I would now wish 
to know your intentions in disposing of 
my person ? ”’ 

‘That is soon answered. You must be 
content to take the homely accommoda- 
tions of the Coquette for the night, in- 
stead of the more luxurious cabin of your 
Water-Witch. What the authorities of 
the Province may decide to-morrow, it 
exceeds the knowledge of a poor com- 
mander in the navy to say.’’ 

‘¢The Lord Cornbury has retired to——’’ 

<A jail,’’? said Ludlow, observing that 
the other spoke more like one who mused 
than like one who asked a question. 
‘The kinsman of our gracious Queen 
speculates on the chances of human fort- 
une within the walls of a prison. His suc- 
cessor, the Brigadier Hunter, is thought 
to have less sympathy for the, moral in- 
firmities of human nature !”’ 

‘We deal lightly with dignities,’’ ex- 
claimed the captive with his former gayety 


652 WORKS 


of tone and manner. ‘‘ You have your 
revenge for some personal liberties that 
were certainly taken not a fortnight since 
with this boat and her crew; still, 1 much 
mistake your character if unnecessary 
severity forms one of its features. May I 
communicate with the brigantine ? ”’ 

«« Wreely—when she is once in the care 
of a Queen’s officer.’’ 

‘¢Oh, sir, you disparage the qualities of 
my mistress, in supposing there exists a 
parallel with your own! The Water- 
Witch will go at large till a far different 
personage shall become your captive. 
May I communicate with the shore ?”’ 

‘*To that there exists no objection—if 
you will point out the means.’’ 

‘“‘T have one here who will prove a 
faithful messenger.’’ 

“Too faithful to the delusion which 
governs all your followers. Your man 
must be your companion in the Coquette, 
Master Seadrift, though,’? and Ludlow 
spoke in melancholy, ‘‘if there be any on 
the land who take so near an interest in 
your welfare as to find more sorrow in un- 
certainty than in the truth, one of my 
own crew, in any of whom confidence may 
be placed, shall do your errand.’ 

** Let it be so,’’ returned the freetrader, 
as if satisfied that he could, in reason, ex- 
pect no more. ‘‘ Take this ring to the 
lady of yonder dwelling,’’ he continued, 
when Ludlow had selected the messenger, 
‘and say that he who sends it is about to 
visit the cruiser of Queen Anne in com- 
pany with her commander. Should there 
be any question of the motive, you can 
speak to the manner of my arrest.” 

‘* And, mark me, fellow!’ added his 
captain; ‘‘that duty done, look to the 
idlers on the shore, and see that no boat 
quits the river to apprise the smugglers 
of their loss.”’ 

The man,who was armed in the fashion 
of a seaman on boat duty, received these 
orders with the customary deference; and 
the barge having drawn to the shore for 
that purpose, he landed. 

‘““And now, Master Seadrift, having 
thus far complied with your wishes, I 
may expect you will not be deaf to mine. 
Here is a seat at your service inmy barge, 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


/ 


and I confess it will please me to see it 
occupied.”’ 

As the Captain spoke, he reached forth 
an arm, partly in natural complaisance, 
and partly with a carelessness that de- 
noted some consciousness of the difference 
in their rank, both to aid the other to 
comply with his request, and, at need, to 
enforce it. But the freetrader seemed 
to repel the familiarity ; for he drew 
back, at first, like one who shrank sensi- 
tively from the contact, and then, with- 
out touching the arm that was extended 
with a purpose so equivocal, he passed 
lightly from the skiff into the barge, de- 
clining assistance. The movement was 
scarcely made, before Ludlow quitted the 
latter, and occupied the place which Sea- 
drift had just vacated. He commanded 
one of his men to exchange with the sea- 
man of the brigantine; and, having made 
these preparations, he again addressed 
his prisoner. 

‘IT commit you to the care of my cock- 
Swain and these worthy tars, Master Sea- 
drift. We shall steer different ways. 
You will take possession of my cabin, 
where all will be at your disposal ; ere the 
middle watch is called, I shall be there to 
prevent the pennant from coming down, 
and your sea-green flag turning the peo- 
ple’s heads from their allegiance. ”’ 

Ludlow then whispered his orders to 
his cockswain, and they separated. The 
barge proceeded to the mouth of the river, 
with the long and stately sweep of the 
oars that marks the progress of a man-‘ 

of-war’s boat; while the skiff followed 
noiselessly, ae aided by its color ang 
dimensions, nearly invisible. 

When the two boats entered the waters 
of the bay, the barge held on its course 
toward the distant ship; while the skiff 
inclined to the right, and steered directly — 
for the bottom of the Cove. The precau- 
tion of the dealer in contraband had pro- 
vided his little boat with muffled sculls; 
and Ludlow, when he was enabled to dis- 
cover the fine tracery of the lofty and 
light spars of the Water-Witch, as they 
rose above the tops of the drawf. trees 
that lined the shore, had no reason to — 
think his approach was known. Once 


> 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


assured of the presence and position of 
the brigantine, he was enabled to make 
his advances with all the caution that 
might be necessary. 

Some ten or fifteen minutes were re- 
quired to bring the skiff beneath the bow- 
sprit of the beautiful c®aft, without giv- 
ing the alarm to those who doubtless were 
watching on her decks. The success of 
our adventurer, however, appeared to be 
complete; for he was soon holding by the 
cable, and not the smallest sound of any 
kind had been heard in the brigantine. 
Ludlow now regretted he had not entered 
the Cove with his barge ; for, so profound 
and unsuspecting was the quiet of the 
vessel, that he doubted not his ability 
to have carried her by a_ coup-de-main. 
Vexed by his oversight, and incited by 
the prospects of success, he began to de- 
vise those expedients which would natur- 
ally suggest themselves to a seaman in 
his situation. 

The wind was southerly, and, though 
not strong, it was charged with the damp- 
ness and heaviness of the night air. As 
the brigantine lay protected from the 
influence of the tides, she obeyed the cur- 
rents of the other element ; and, while her 
bows looked outward, her stern pointed 
toward the bottom of the basin. The dis- 
tance from the land was not fifty fathoms, 
and Ludlow did not fail to perceive that 
the vessel rode by a kedge, and that her 
anchors, of which there was a good pro- 
vision, were all snugly stowed. These facts 
induced the hope that he might separate 
the hawser that alone held the brigantine, 
which in the event of his succeeding, he 
had every reason to believe would drift 
ashore, before the alarm could be given 
to her crew, sail set, or an anchor let go. 
Although neither he nor his companion 
possessed any other implement to effect 
this object than the large seaman’s knife 
of the latter, the temptation was too great 
not to make the trial. The project was 
flattering ; for, though the vessel in that 
situation would receive no serious injury, 
the unavoidable delay of heaving off the 
sands would. enable his boats, and perhaps 
the ship herself, to reach the place in time 
to secure their prize. The bargeman was 


653 


asked for his knife, and Ludlow himself 
made the first cut upon the solid and diffi- 
cult mass. The steel had no sooner 
touched the compact yarns, than a daz- 
zling glare of light shot into the face of 
him who held it. Recovering from the 
shock and rubbing his eyes, our startled 
adventurer gazed upward with that con- 
sciousness of wrong which assails us when 
detected in any covert act, however laud- 
able may be its motive; a sort of homage 
that Nature, under every circumstance, 
pays to loyal dealings. 

Though Ludlow felt, at the instant of 
this interruption, that he stood in jeopardy 
of his life, the concern it awakened was 
momentarily lost in the spectacle before 
him. The bronzed and unearthly features 
of the image were brightly illumined ; 
and, while her eyes looked on him stead- 
ily, asif watching his smallest movement, 
her malign and speaking smile appeared 
to turn his futile effort into scorn! There 
was no need to bid the seaman at the 
oars do his duty. No sooner did he catch 
the expression of that mysterious face, 
than the skiff whirled away from the 
spot, like a sea-fowl taking wing under 
alarm. Though Ludlow at each moment 
expected a shot, even the imminence of 
the danger did not prevent him from gaz- 
ing, in absorbed attention, at the image. 
The light by which it was illumined, 
though condensed, powerful, and steadily 
cast, wavered a little, and exhibited her. 
attire. 

Then the Captain saw the truth of 
what Seadrift had asserted ; for by some 
process of the machine into which he had 
not the leisure to inquire, the sea-green 
mantle had been changed for a slighter 
robe of the azure of the deep waters. As 
if satisfied with having betrayed the in- 
tention of the sorceress to depart, the light 
immediately vanished. 

‘‘This mummery is well maintained ! ”’ 
muttered Ludlow, when the skiff had 
reached a distance that assured him of 
safety. ‘‘Here is a symptom that the 
Rover means soon to quit the coast. The 
change of dress is some signal to his super- 
stitious and deluded crew. It is my task 
to disappoint his mistress, as he terms 


654 


her, though it must be confessed that she 
does not sleep at her post.”’ 

During the ten succeeding minutes our 
foiled adventurer had leisure, no less than 
motive, to feel how necessary is success 
to any project whose means admit of dis- 
pute. Had the hawser been cut and the 
brigantine stranded, it is probable that 
the undertaking of the Captain would 
have been accounted among those happy 
expedients which, in all pursuits, are 
thought to distinguish the mental efforts 
of men particularly gifted by nature ; 
while, under the actual circumstances, he 
who would have reaped all the credit of 
so felicitous an idea was mentally chafing 
with the apprehension that his unlucky 
design might become known. His com- 
panion was no other than Robert Yarn, 
the fore-topman, who, on a former oc- 
casion, had been heard to affirm that he 
had already enjoyed so singular a view of 
the lady of the brigantine, while assisting 
to furl the fore-topsail of the Coquette. 

“This has been a false board, Master 
Yarn,” observed the Captain, when the 
skiff was past the entrance of the Cove, 
and some distance down the bay; ‘“‘for 
the credit of our cruise, we will not enter 
the occurrence in the log. You under- 
stand me, sir; I trust a word is sufficient 
for so shrewd a wit? ’’ 

*‘T hope I know my duty, your honor, 
which is to obey orders, though it may 
break owners,’’ returned the topman. 
‘‘Cutting a hawser with a knife is but 
slow work in the best of times; but 
though one who has little right to speak 
in the presence of a gentleman so well 
taught, it is my opinion that the steel is 
not yet sharpened which is to part any 
rope aboard yon rover, without the con- 
sent of the black-looking woman under 
her bowsprit.’’ 

‘* And what is the opinion of the berth- 
deck concerning this strange brigantine 
that we have so long been following with- 
out success ? ”’ 

‘‘That we shall follow her till the last 
biscuit is eaten, and the scuttle-butt shall 
be dry, with no better fortune. It is not 
my business to teach your honor, but there 
is not a man in the ship who ever expects 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


to be a farthing the better for her capture. / 
Men are of many minds concerning the | 
Skimmer of the Seas; but all are agreed’ 
that unless aided by some uncommon luck; 

which may amount to the same thing as ° 
being helped by him who seldom lends a 
hand to any hofest undertaking, he is 
altogether such a seaman as another ca 
him does not sail the ocean!” 

‘Tam sorry that my people should 
have reason to think so meanly of our own 
skill. The ship has not yet had a fair 
chance. Give her an open sea, and a cap- 
ful of wind, and she ll defy all the black 
women that the brigantine can stow. As 
to your Skimmer of the Seas, be he man 
or devil, he is our prisoner.”’ 

‘¢ And does your honor believe that the 
trim-built and light-sailing gentleman we 
overhauled in this skiff is in truth that re- 
nowned rover?’ asked Yarn, resting on 
his sculls in the interest of the moment. 
‘There are some on board the ship who 
maintain that the man in question is taller 
than the big tide-waiter at Plymouth, 
with a pair of shoulders——’’ 

“‘T have reason to know they are mis- 
taken. If we are more enlightened than 
our shipmates, Master Yarn, let us be 
close-mouthed, that others do not steal 
our knowledge—hold, here is a crown 
with the face of King Louis; he is our 
bitterest enemy, and you may swallow 
him whole, if you please, or take him in 
morsels, as shall best suit your humor. 
But remember that our cruise in the 
skiff is under secret orders, and the less 
we say about the an chon ae of the 
brigantine the better.” 

Honest Bob took the piece of silver with 
a gusto that no opinions of the marvelous 
could diminish ; and, touching his hat, he 
did not fail to make the usual protesta- 
tions of discretion. That night the mess- 
mates of the fore-topman endeavored in 
vain to extract from him the particulars 
of his excursion with the Captain ; though 
the direct answers to their home questions 
were only evaded by allusions so dark and 
ambiguous as to give to that superstitious 
feeling of the crew, which Ludlow had 
wished to lull, twice its original force. 

Not long after this short dialogue, the 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


skiff reached the side of the Coquette. 
Her commander found his prisoner in 
possession of his own cabin, and, though 
grave if not sad in demeanor, perfectly 
self-possessed. His arrival had produced 
a deep effect on the officers and men, 
though, like Yarn, most of both classes 
refused to believe that the handsome and 
gayly-attired youth they had been sum- 
moned to receive was the notorious dealer 
in contraband. 

Light observers of the forms under 
which human qualities are exhibited too 
often mistake their outward signs. 
e Though it is quite in reason to believe 
that he who mingles much in rude and 
violent scenes should imbibe some of their 
rough and repelling aspects, still it would 
seem that, as stillest waters commonly 
conceal the deepest currents, so the powers 
to awaken extraordinary events are not 
unfrequently cloaked under a chastened 
and sometimes under a cold exterior. It 
has often happened, that the most des- 
perate and self-willed men are those 
whose mien and manners would give rea- 
son to expect the mildest and most tract- 
able dispositions; while he who has 
seemed a lion sometimes proves, in his 
real nature, to be little better than a 
lamb. 

Ludlow had reason to see that the in- 
credulity of his topman nad extended to 
most on board; and, as he could not 
conquer his tenderness on the subject of 
Alida and all that concerned her, while on 
the other hand there existed no motive for 
immediately declaring the truth, he rather 
favored the general impression by his si- 
lence. First giving some orders of the last 
importance at that moment, he passed 
into the cabin, and sought a private 
interview with his captive. 

“That vacant stateroom is at your ser- 
vice, Master Seadrift,’’ he observed, point- 
ing to the little apartment opposite to the 
one he occupied himself. ‘‘ We are likely 
to be shipmates several days, unless you 
choose to shorten the time by entering 
into a capitulation for the Water- Witch, 
in which case——”’ 

‘You had a proposition to make.’’ 

Ludlow hesitated, cast an eye behind 


655 


him, to be certain they were alone, and 
drew nearer to his captive. 

‘*Sir, I will deal with you as becomes a 
seaman. La belle Barberie is dearer to 
me than ever woman was before; dearer, 
I fear, than ever woman will be again. 
You need not learn that circumstances 
have occurred—do you love the lady ?” 

re aoe? 

‘“* And she—fear not to trust the secret 
to one who will not abuse the trust—re- 
turns she your affection ? ”’ 

The mariner of the brigantine drew back 
with dignity ; then, instantly recovering 
his ease, as if fearful he might forget him- 
self, he said with warmth— 

‘This trifling with woman’s weakness 
is the besetting sin of man! None may 
speak of her inclinations, Captain Ludlow, 
but herself. It never shall be said that 
any of the sex had aught but fitting rever- 
ence for their dependent state, their con- 
stant and confiding love, their faithfulness 
in all the world’s trials, and their single- 
ness of heart. from me.”’ 

‘“‘ These sentiments do you honor; and 
I could wish, for your own sake, as wellas 
that of others, there was less of contra- 
riety in your character. One cannot but 
grieve——”’ 

‘* You had a proposition for the brigan- 
tine ? ’’ 

‘¢T would have said, that were the ves- 
sel yielded without farther pursuit, means 
might be found to soften the blow to those 
who will otherwise be most wounded by 
her capture.’’ 

The face of the dealer in contraband had 
lost some of its usual brightness and ani- 
mation ; the color of the cheek was not as 
rich, and the eye was less at ease, than in 
his former interviews with Ludlow. But 
a smile of security crossed his fine features 
when the other spoke of the fate of the 
brigantine. 

‘“«'The keel of the ship that is to capture 
the Water-Wvtch is not yet laid,’’ he said 
firmly; ‘‘nor is the canvas that is to drive 
her through the water wove! Our mis- 
tress is not so heedless as to sleep when 
there is most occasion for her services.’’ 

‘This mummery of a supernatural aid 
may be of use in holding the minds of the 


656 


ignorant beings who follow your fortunes 
in subjection, but it is lost when addressed 
tome. I have ascertained the position of 
the. brigantine—nay, I have been under 
her very bowsprit, and so near her cut- 
water as to have examined her moorings. 
Measures are now taken to improve my 
knowledge, and to secure the prize.”’ 

The freetrader heard him without ex- 
hibiting alarm, though he listened with an 
attention that rendered his breathing 
audible. 

“You found my people vigilant?’ he 
rather carelessly observed than asked. 

‘‘So much so, that I have said the skiff 
was pulled beneath her martingale with- 
out a hail! Had there been means, it 
would not have required many moments 
to cut the hawser by which she rides, 
and to have laid your beauteous vessel 
ashore !’’ 

The gleam of Seadrift’s eye was like the 
glance of an eagle. It seemed to inquire, 
and to resent, in the same instant. Lud- 
low shrank from the piercing look, and 
reddened to the brow—whether with his 
recollections, or not, it is unnecessary to 
explain. 

*“‘The worthy device was thought of ! 
nay, it was attempted !’’ exclaimed the 
other, gathering confirmation in the con- 
sciousness of his companion. ‘‘ You did 
not—you could not succeed !”’ 

“Our success ‘will be proved in the 
result.”’ : 

‘‘The lady of the brigantine forgot not 
her charge! You saw her bright eye— 
her dark and meaning face! Light shone 
on that mysterious countenance — my 
words are true, -Ludlow; thy tongue is 
silent, but that honest countenance con- 
fesses all!” | 

The gay dealer in contraband turned 
away, and laughed in his merriest man- 
ner. 

‘*T knew it would be so,’’ he continued ; 
‘‘ what is the absence of one humble actor 
from her train! Trust me, you will find 
her coy as ever, and ill-disposed to hold 
converse with a cruiser who speaks so 
rudely through his cannon. Ha! here 
are auditors ! ”’ 

An officer to announce the near ap- 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


proach of a boat entered. Both Ludlow 
and his prisoner started at this intelli- 
gence, and it was not difficult to fanc 
both believed that a message from the 
Water-Witch might be expected. The 
former hastened on deck ; while the latter, 
notwithstanding a self-possession that was 
so much practiced, could not remain en- 
tirely at his ease. He passed into the 
stateroom, and it is more than probable 
that he availed himself of the window of 
its quarter-gallery to reconnoiter those 
who were so unexpectedly coming to the 
ship. 
But after the usual hail and reply, Lud- ® 
low no longer anticipated any proposal 
from the brigantine. The answer had 
been what a seaman would call lubberly ; 
or it wanted that Attic purity that men of 
the profession rarely fail to use on all oc- 
casions, and by the means of which they 
can tell a pretender to their mysteries with 
a quickness that is almost instinctive. 
When the short, quick ‘‘ Boat-ahoy! ”’ of 
the sentinel on the gangway was answered 
by the ‘“‘ What do you want ? ”’ of a startled 
respondent in the boat, it was received 
among the crew of the Coquette with such 
a sneer as the tyro, who has taken two 
steps in any particular branch of knowl- 
edge, is apt to bestow on the blunders of 
him who has taken but one. 

A deep silence reigned, while a party 
consisting of two men and as many females 
mounted the side of the ship, leaving a 
sufficient number of forms behind them in 
the boat to man its oars. Notwithstand- 
ing more than one light was held in such a 
manner as would have discovered the faces 
of the strangers Lad they not all been 
closely muffled, the party passed into the 
cabin without recognition. 

‘* Master Cornelius Ludlow, one might 
as well put on the Queen’s livery at once 
as to be steering in this uncertain manner 
between the Coquette and the land, like a 
protested note sent from indorser to in- 
dorser to be paid,*’ commenced Alderman 
Van Beverout, uncasing himself in the — 
great cabin with the coolest deliberation, 
while his niece sank into a chair unbidden, 
her two attendants standing near in sub- 
missive silence. ‘‘ Here is Alida, who has 


aN 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


657 


insisted on paying so unseasonable a visit, fested in the control of a delicate and fear- 


and, what is worse still, on dragging me 
in her train, though I am past the day of 
following a woman about merely because 
she happens to have a pretty face. The 
hour is unseasonable, and as to the motive 
—why,if Master Seadrift has got a little 
out of his course, no great harm can come 
of it, while the affair is in the hands of so 
discreet and amiable an officer as your- 
self.’’ 

The Alderman became suddenly mute ; 
for the door of the stateroom opened, and 
the individual he had named entered in 
person. 

Ludlow needed no other explanation 
than the knowledge of the persons of his 
guests to understand the motive of their 
visit. Turning to Alderman Van Beve- 
rout, he said, with a bitterness he could 
not repress— 

‘“My presence may be intrusive. Use 
the cabin as freely as your own house, and 
rest assured that while it is thus honored, 
it shall be sacred to its present uses. My 
duty calls me to the deck.”’ 

The young man bowed, and hurried 
from the place. As he passed Alida, he 
caught a gleam of her dark and eloquent 
eye, and he construed the glance into an 
expression of gratitude. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 


**Tf it were done when ’tis done, then ’twere well 
It were done quickly.’’—MACBETH. 


THE words of the immortal poet, with 
which, in deference to an ancient usage in 
the literature of the language, we have 
prefaced the incidents to be related in 
this chapter, are in perfect conformity 
with that governing maxim of a vessel, 
which is commonly embodied in its stand- 
ing orders, and which prescribes the neces- 
sity of exertion and activity in the least of 
its operations. A. strongly-manned ship, 
like a strong-armed man, is fond of show- 
ing its physical power, for it is one of the 
principal secrets of its efficiency. In a 
profession in which there is an unceasing 
contest with the wild and fickle winds, and 
in which human efforts are to be mani- 


ful machinery on an inconstant element, 
this governing principle becomes of the 
last importance. Where ‘‘delay may so 
\easily be death,’’ it soon gets to be a 
word that is expunged from the language ;_ 
and there is perhaps no truth more neces- 
sary to be known to all young aspirants 
for naval success than that, while nothing 
should be attempted in a hurry, nothing 
should be done without the last degree of 
activity that is compatible with precision. 

The commander of the Coquette had 
early been impressed with the truth of 
the foregoing rule, and he had not 
neglected its application in the discipline 
of his crew. When he reached the deck, 
therefore, after relinquishing the cabin to 
his visitors, he found those preparations 
which he had ordered to be commenced, 
when he first returned to the ship, al- 
ready far advanced toward their execu- 
tion. As these movements are closely 
connected with the future events it is our 
duty to explain, we shall relate them with 
some particularity. 

Ludlow had no sooner given his orders 
to the officer in charge of the deck, than 
the call of the boatswain was heard sum- 
moning all hands to their duty. When 
the crew was collected, tackles were 
hooked to the large boats stowed in the 
center of the ship, and the whole of them 
were lowered into the water. The descent 
of those suspended on the quarters was 
of course less difficult and much sooner ef- 
fected. So soon as all the boats with the 
exception of one at the stern, were out, 
the order was given to ‘‘cross topgallant 
yards.’’ This duty had been commenced 
while other things had been in the course 
of performance, and a minute had scarcely 
passed before the upper masts were again 
in possession of their light sails. Then 
was heard the usual summons of “All 
hands up anchor, ahoy !”’ and the rapid 
orders of young officers to ‘“‘ man capstan- 
bar,”’ to “‘nipper,’’ and finally to ‘‘ heave 
away.’ The business of getting the 
anchor on board a cruiser, and on board 
a ship engaged in commerce, is of very 
different degrees of labor, as well as of 
expedition. In the latter, a dozen men 


99 


f 


658 


apply their powers to a slow-moving and 
reluctant windlass, while the untractable 
cable as it enters is broken into coils by 
the painful efforts ofa grumbling cook, 
thwarted perhaps, as much as he is aided, 
by the waywardness of some willful urchin 
who does the service of the cabin. Onthe 
other hand, the upright and constantly 
moving capstan knows no delay. The 
revolving ‘‘messenger’’ is ever ready to 
be applied, and skillful petty officers are 
always in the tiers, to dispose of the 


massive rope that it may not encumber: 


the decks. 

Ludlow appeared among his people 
while they’were thus employed. Ere he 
had made one hasty turn on the quar- 
ter-deck, he was met by the busy first 
leutenant. 

‘‘We are short, sir,”’ said that agent of 
all work. 

“Set your topsails.”’ 

The canvas was instantly permitted to 
fall, and it was no sooner stretched to the 
yards than force was applied to the hal- 
yard and the sails were hoisted. 

“Which way, sir, do you wish the ship 
cast? ’*’ demanded the attentive Luff. 

‘To seaward.”’ 

The headyards were accordingly braced 
aback in the proper direction, and it was 
then reported to the Captain that all was 
ready to get the ship under way. 

“Trip the anchor at once, sir; when it 
is stowed and the decks cleared, report to 
me.”? 

This sententious and characteristic com- 
munication was sufficient for all the pur- 
poses of that moment. The one was 
accustomed to issue his orders without 
explanation, and the other never hesitated 
to obey, and rarely presumed to inquire 
into their motive. 

“We are aweigh and _ stowed, sir; 
everything clear,’’ said Mr. Luff, after a 
few minutes had been allowed to execute 
the preceding commands. 

Ludlow then seemed to arouse himself 
from a deep reverie. He had hitherto 
spoken mechanically, rather than as one 
conscious of what he had uttered, or 
whose feelings had any connection with 
his words. But it was now necessary to 


WORKS OF. FENIMORE COOPER. 


mingle with his officers, and to issue man- 
dates that, as they were less in routine, 
required both thought and discretion/ 
The crews of the different boats were 
“called away,’’ and arms were placed in 
their hands. When nearly or quite one: 

half of the ship’s company were all re- 

ported to be ready, officers were assigned 

to each, and the particular service ex- 
pected at their hands was distinctly 
explained. 

A master’s mate in the Captain’s barge, 
with the crew strengthened by half a 
dozen marines, was ordered to pull directly 
for the Cove, into which he was to enter 
with muffled oars, and where he was to 
await a signal from the first lieutenant, 
unless he met the brigantine endeavoring 
to escape, in which case his orders were 
imperative to board and carry her at 
every hazard. The high-spirited youth no 
sooner received his charge than he quitted 
the ship and steered to the southward, 
keeping inside the tongue of land so often 
named. 

Luff was then told to take command of 
the launch. With this heavy and strongly- 
manned boat he was ordered to proceed to 
the inlet, where he was to give the signal 
to the barge, and whence he was to go to 
the assistance of the latter so soon as he 
was assured the Water-Witch could not 
again escape by the secret passage. 

The two cutters were intrusted to the 
command of the second lieutenant, with 
orders to pull into the broad passage be- 
tween the end of the cape, or the “‘ Hook,” ~ 
and that long, narrow island which 
stretches from the harbor of New York 
for more than forty leagues to the east- 
ward, sheltering the whole coast of Con- 
necticut from the tempests of the ocean. 
Ludlow knew, though ships of a heavy 
draught were obliged to pass close to the 
cape, in order to gain the open sea, that a 
light brigantine, like the Water-W<itch, 
could find a sufficient depth of water for 
her purposes farther north. The cutters 
were, therefore, sent in that direction, 
with orders to cover as much of the chan- 
nel as possible, and to carry the smuggler, 
should an occasion offer. Finally, the — 
yawl was to occupy the space between the _ 


THE WATER-WITCG. 


two channels, with orders to repeat sig- 
nals, and to be vigilant in reconnoitering. 

While the different officers intrusted 
with these duties were receiving their 
instructions, the ship, under the charge 
of Trysail, began to move toward the 
cape. When off the point of the Hook, 
the two cutters and the yawl “ cast off,’’ 
and took to their oars, and when fairly 
without the buoys, the launch did the 
same, each boat taking its prescribed 
direction. 

If the reader retains a distinct recol- 
lection of the scene described in one of 
the earlier pages of this work, he will un- 
derstand the grounds on which Ludlow 
based his hopes of success. By sending 
the launch into the inlet, he believed he 
should inclose the brigantine on every 
side; since her escape through either of 
the ordinary channels would become im- 
possible, while he kept the Coquette im 
the offing. The service he expected from 
the three boats sent to the northward 
was to trace the movement of the smug- 
gler, and, should a suitable opportunity 
offer, to attempt to carry him by surprise. 

When the launch parted from the ship, 
the Coquette came slowly up to the wind, 
and with her fore-topsail thrown to the 
mast, she lay, waiting to allow her boats 
the time necessary to reach their several 
stations. The different expeditions had 
reduced the force of the crew quite one- 
half, and as both the lieutenants were 
otherwise employed, there now remained 
on board no officer of a rank between 
those of the Captain and Trysail. Some 
time after the vessel had been stationary, 
and the men had been ordered to keep 
close, or in other words to dispose of 
their persons as they pleased, with a view 
to permit them to catch “ cat’s naps,”’ 
as some compensation for the loss of their 
regular sleep, the latter approached his 
superior, who stood gazing over the ham- 
mock-cloths in the direction of the Cove, 
and spoke. 

*‘ A dark night, smooth water and fresh 
hands make boating agreeable duty !”’ 
he said. ‘‘The gentlemen are in fine 
heart, and full of young men’s hopes ; but 
he who lays that brigantine aboard, will, 


659 


in my poor judgment, have more work to 
do than-merely getting up her side. I 
was in the foremost boat that boarded a 
Spaniard in the Mona, last war; and 
though we went into her with light heels, 
some of us were brought out with brdken 
heads. I think the fore-topgallant-mast. 
has a better set, Captain Ludlow, since we 
gave the last pull at the rigging ?”’ 

**Jt stands well,’’ returned his half-at- 
tentive commander. ‘Give it the other 
drag, if you think best.’’ 

“* Just as you please, sir; ’tis all one to 
me. I care not if the mast is hove all of 
one side, like the hat on the head of a coun- 
try buck; but when a thing is as’it ought 
to be, reason would tell us to let it alone. 
Mr. Luff was of opinion, that by altering 
the slings of the main-yard, we should 
give a better set to the topsail ‘sheets ; but 
it was little that could be done with the 
stick aloft, and I am ready to pay her 
Majesty the difference between the wear 
of the sheets as they stand now, and as 
Mr. Luff would have them, out of my pock- 
et, though it is often as empty as a parish 
church in which a fox-hunting parson 
preaches. I was present, once, when a 
réal tally-ho was reading the service, and 
one of your godless squires got in the wake 
of a fox, with his hounds, within hail of 
the church-windows ! The cries had some 
such effect on my roarer as a puff of wind 
would have on this ship; that is to say, 
he sprung his luff, and though he kept on 
muttering something: I never knew what, 
his eyes were in the fields the whole time 
the pack was in view. But this wasn’t 
the worst of it; for when he got fairly 
back to his work again, the wind had 
been blowing the leaves of his book about, 
and he plumped us into the middle of 
the marriage ceremony. I am no great » 
lawyer, but there were those who said it 
was a godsend that half the young men 
in the parish weren’t married to their 
own grandmothers ! ”’ 

“‘T hope the match was agreeable to the 
family,’’ said Ludlow, relieving one elbow 
by resting the weight of his head on the 
other. 

_ & Why, as to that, I will not take upon 
me to say, since the clerk corrected the 


660 


parson’s reckoning before the mischief 
was entirely done. There has been a 
little dispute between me and the first 
lieutenant, Captain Ludlow, concerning 
the trim of the ship. He maintains that 
we have got too much in forward of what 
he calls the center of gravity; and he is 
of opinion that had we been less by the 
head, the smuggler would never have had 
the heels of us in the chase; whereas, I 
invite any man to lay acraft on her water- 
line——”’ 

«Show our light!’’ interrupted Lud- 
low. ‘* Yonder goes the signal of the 
launch ! ”’ 

Trysaik ceased speaking, and stepping 
on a gun he began to gaze in the direction 
of the Cove. A lantern, or some other 
bright object, was leisurely raised three 
times, and 4s often hid from view. The 
signal came from under the land, and in a 
quarter that left no doubt of its object. 

‘So far, well,’’ cried the Captain, quit- 
ting his stand, and turning, for the first 
time, with consciousness to his officer. 
“<°Tis a_sign that they are at the inlet, 
and that the offing is clear. I think, 
Master Trysail, we are now sure of our 
prize. Sweep the horizon thoroughly with 
the night-giass, and then we will close 
upon this boasted brigantine.’’ 

Both took glasses, and devoted several 
minutes to this duty. A careful examina- 
tion of the margin of the sea, from the 
coast of New Jersey to that of Long 
Island, gave them reason to believe that 
nothing of any size was lying without the 
cape. The sky was more free from clouds 
to the eastward than under the land, and 
it was not difficult to make certain of this 
important fact. It gave them the assur- 
ance that the Water-Witch had not es- 
caped by the secret passage, during the 
time lost in their own preparations. 

‘<“This is still well,’’? continued Ludlow. 
‘“Now he cannot avoid us—show the tri- 
angile.’’ 

Three lights, disposed in the form just 
named, were then hoisted at the gaff-end 
of the Coquette. It was an order for the 
boats in the Cove to proceed. The signal 
was quickly answered from the launch; 
and a small rocket was seen sailing over 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


the trees and shrubbery of the shore. A / 
on board the Coquette listened intently, 
to catch some sound that should denote 
the tumult of an assault. Once Ludlow 
and Trysail thought the cheers of seamen 
came on the thick air of the night; and 
once, again, either fancy or their senses 
told them they heard the menacing hail 
which commanded the outlaws to submit. 
Many minutes of intense anxiety succeeded. 
The whole of the hammock-cloths on the 
side of the ship nearest to the land were 
lined with curious faces, though respect 
left Ludlow to the sole occupation of the 
short and light deck which covered the 
accommodations ; whither he had as- 
cended to command a more perfect view 
of the horizon. 

«?*Tis time to hear their musketry, or 
to see the signal of success!’’ said the 
young man to himself, so intently oc- 
cupied by his interest as to be unconscious 
of having spoken. 

‘‘ Have you forgotten to provide a sig- 
nal for failure ? ’’ said one at his elbow. 

‘“‘Ha! Master Seadrift—I would have 
spared you this spectacle.’’ 

<°Tis one too often witnessed to be 
singular. A life passed on the ocean has 
not left me ignorant of the effect of night, 
with view seaward, a dark coast, and a 
background of mountain ! ”’ 

‘You have confidence in him left in 
charge of your brigantine! I shall have 
faith in your sea-green lady myself, if he 
escape my boats this time.”’ 

‘‘See! there is a token of her fortune,” — 
returned the other, pointing toward three — 
lanterns that were shown at the inlet’s — 
mouth, and over which many lights were 
burned in rapid succession. 

«?Tis of failure. Let the ship fall-off, — 
and square away the yards! Round in, 
men, round in. We will run down to the — 
entrance of the bay, Mr. Trysail. The 
knaves have been aided by their lucky 
star!’ | 

Ludlow spoke with deep vexation in his” 
tones, but always with the authority of a 
superior and the promptitude of a seaman. 
The motionless being, near him, main- 
tained a profound silence. No exclama- 
tion of triumph escaped him, nor did he 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


open his lips either in pleasure or in sur- 
prise. It appeared as if confidence in his 
vessel rendered him as much superior to 
exultation as to apprehension. 

“You look upon this exploit of your 
brigantine, Master Seadrift, as a thing of 
course,’’ Ludlow observed, when his own 
ship was steering toward the extremity of 
the cape again. ‘‘Fortune has not de- 
serted you yet; but with the land on 
three sides, and this ship and her boats on 
the fourth, I do not despair yet of prevail- 
ing over your bronzed goddess ! ”’ 

‘Our mistress never sleeps,’’ returned 
the dealer in contraband, drawing a long 
breath, like one who had struggled long 
to repress his interest. 

“Terms are still in your power. I shall 
not conceal that the commissioners of her 
Majesty’s customs set so high a price on 
the possession of the Water-Witch as to 
-embolden me to assume a responsibility 
from which I might on any other occasion 
shrink. Deliver the vessel, and I pledge 
you the honor of an officer that the crew 
shall land without question. Leave her to 
us, with empty decks and a swept hold, if 
you will—but leave the swift boat in our 
hands.”’ 

“The lady of the brigantine thinks 
otherwise. She wears her mantle of the 
deep waters, and, trust me, spite of all 
your nets, she will lead ,.her followers be- 
yond the offices of the lead, and far from 
soundings; aye, spite of all the navy of 
Queen Anne !”’ 

**T hope that others may not repent this 
obstinacy! But this is no time to bandy 
words; the duty of the ship requires my 
presence.”’ 

Seadrift took the hint, and reluctantly 
retired to the cabin. As he left the poop, 
the moon rose above the line of water in 
the eastern board, and shcd its light along 
the whole horizon. The crew of the 
Coquette were now enabled to see, with 
sufficient distinctness, from the sands of 
the Hook to the distance of many leagues 
_toseaward. There no longer remained a 
doubt that the brigantine was still within 
the bay. Encouraged by this certainty, 
Ludlow endeavored to forget all motives 
of personal feeling, in the discharge of a 


661 


duty that was getting to be more and more 
interesting, as the prospect of its success- 
ful accomplishment grew brighter. 

It was not long before the .Coquette 
reached the channel which forms the avail- 
able mouth of the estuary. Here the ship 
was again brought to the wind, and men 
were sent upon the yards and all her more 
lofty spars, in order to overlook, by the 
dim and deceitful light, as much of the 
inner water as the eye could reach; while 
Ludlow, assisted by the master, was en- 
gaged in the same employment on the 
deck. Two or three midshipmen were 
included among the common herd aloft. 

‘‘There is nothing visible within,’’ said 
the Captain, after a long and anxious 
search witha glass. ‘‘ The shadow of the 
Jersey mountains prevents the sight in 
that direction, while the spars of a frigate 
might be confounded with the trees of 
Staten Island, here, in the northern 
board. Cross-jackyard, there! ’’ 

The shrill voice of a midshipman an- 
swered to the hail. 

‘‘What do you make within the Hook, 
sin ty’? 

‘‘ Nothing visible. Our barge is pulling 
along the land, and the launch appears to 
be lying off the inlet; aye, here is the 
yawl resting on its oars without the Ro- 
mer; but we can find nothing which even 
looks like the cutter in the range of 
Coney.”’ 

‘Take another sweep of the glass more 
westward, and look well into the mouth of 
the Raritan ; mark you anything in that 
quarter ? ”’ 

‘“‘Ha! here is a speck on our lee 
quarter.”’ 

‘‘ What do you make of it? ”’ 

‘Unless sight deceives me greatly, sir, 
there is a light boat pulling in for the 
ship, about three cables’ length distant.’’ 

Ludlow raised his own glass, and swept 
the water in the direction named. After 
one or two unsuccessful trials, his eye 
caught the object; and as the moon had 
now some power, he was at no loss to dis- 
tinguish its character. There was evi- 
dently a boat, and one that, by its move- 
ments, had a design of holding a com- 
munication with the cruiser. 


662 


The eye of a seaman is acute on his 
eiement, and his mind is quick in forming 
opinions on all things that properly ap- 
pertain to his profession. Ludlow saw 
instantly, by the construction, that the 
boat was not one of those sent from the 
ship; that it approached in a direction 
which enabled it to avoid the Coquette, 
by keeping in a part of the bay where the 
water was not sufficiently deep to admit 
of her passage; and that its movements 
wereso guarded as to denote great caution, 
while there was an evident wish to draw 
as near to the cruiser as prudence might 
render advisable. Taking a trumpet, he 
hailed in the well-known and customary 
manner. 

The answer came up faintly against the 
air, but it was yttered with much prac- 
tice in the implement and with an exceed- 
ing compass of voice. 

*“ Aye, aye!’ and, ‘‘ A parley from the 
brigantine !’? were the only words that 
were distinctly audible. 

For a minute or two the young man 
paced the deck in silence. Then he sud- 
denly commanded the only boat which 
the cruiser now possessed to be lowered 
and manned. 

“Throw an ensign into the stern- 
sheets,’’ he said, when these orders were 
executed; “‘and let there be arms be- 
neath it. We will keep faith while faith 
is observed, but there are reasons for 
caution in this interview.’’ 

Trysail was directed to keep the ship 
stationary, and after giving to his subor- 
dinate private instructions of importance 
in the event of treachery, Ludlow went 
into the boat in person. A very few min- 
utes sufficed to bring the jolly-boat and 
the stranger so near’ each other that the 
means of communication were both easy 
and sure. The men of the former were 
then commanded to cease rowing, and, 
raising his glass, the commander of the 
cruise took a more certain and minute 
survey of those who awaited his coming. 
The strange boat was dancing on the 
waves, like a light shell that floated so 
buoyantly as scarce to touch the element 
which sustained it, while four athletic men 
leaned on oars which lay ready to urge it 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


ahead. In the stern-sheets stood a form 
whose attitude and mien could not readily 
be mistaken. In the admirable steadiness 
of the figure, the folded arms, the fine and 
manly proportions, and the attire, Ludlow 
recognized the mariner of the India- 
Shawl. A wave of the hand induced him 
to venture nearer. 

‘* What is asked of the royal cruiser ? ”’ 
demanded the Captain of the vessel 
named, when the two beats were as near 
each other as seemed expedient. 

‘““Confidenee!’’ was the calm reply. 
“‘Come nearer, Captain Ludlow; I am 
here with naked hands! Our conference 
need not be maintained with trumpets.”’ 

Ashamed that a boat belonging to a. 
ship of war should betray doubts, the 
people of the yawl were ordered to go 
within reach of the oars. 

‘* Well, sir, you have your wish. I have 


quitted my ship, and come to the parley, 


with the smallest of my boats.”’ 

‘It is unnecessary to say what has been 
done with the others,’’ returned Tiller, 
across the firm muscles of whose face 
there passed a smile that was scarcely 
perceptible. ‘‘ You hunt us hard, sir, and 
give but little rest to the brigantine. But 
again you are foiled !”’ 

“We have a harbinger of better fort- 
une in a lucky blow that has been struck 
to-night.’ 

** You are understood, sir; Master Sea- 
drift has fallen into the hands of the 
Queen’s servants—but take good heed ! if 
injury, in word or deed, befall that youth, 
there live those who well know how ie 
resent the wrong! ”’ 

‘“'These are lofty expressions to come 
from a proscribed man ; but we will over- 
look them in the motive. Your brigan- 
tine, Master Tiller, lost its master-spirit 
in the Skimmer of the Seas, and it may be 
wise to listen to the suggestions of moder- 
ation. Ifyou are disposed to treat I am 
here with no disposition to extort.” 

“We meet in a suitable spirit then, for 
I come prepared to offer terms of ransom 
that Queen Anne, if she love her revenue, 
need not despise; but, as in duty to her 
Majesty, I will first listen to her ath 
pleasure.”’ 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


663 


*‘ Wirst, then, as a seaman, and one who!law may view your offenses with a still 


is not ignorant of what a vessel can per- 
form, let me direct your attention to the 
situation of the parties. I am certain 
that the Water-Witch, though for the 
moment concealed by the shadows of the 
hills, or favored, perhaps, by distance 
and the feebleness of this light, is in the 
waters of the bay. A force, against 
which she has no power of resistance, 
watches the inlet; you see the cruiser in 
readiness to meet her off the Hook. My 
boats are so stationed as to preclude the 
possibility of escape without sufficient 
notice by the northern channel; and, in 
short, the outlets are all closed to your 
passage. With the morning light we 
shall know your position and act accord- 
ingly.’’ 

“No chart can show the dangers of 
rocks and shoals more clearly! And to 
avoid these dangers——”’ 

“Yield the brigantine and depart. 
Though outlawed we shall content our- 
selves with the possession of the remark- 
able vessel in which you do your mis- 
chief, and hope that, deprived of the 
means to err, you will return to better 
courses.’ 

‘With the prayers of the Church for 
our amendment! Now listen, Captain 
Ludlow, to what I offer. You have the 
person of one much loved by all who 
follow the lady of the sea-green mantle 
in your power; and we have a brigantine 
that does much injury to Queen Anne’s 
supremacy in the waters of this hemi- 
sphere; yield you the captive and we 
promise to quit this coast, never to re- 
turn.”’ 

“This were a worthy treaty, truly, for 
one whose habitation is not a mad-house ! 
Relinquish my right over the principal 
doer of the evil and receive the unsup- 
ported pledge of a subordinate’s word! 
Your happy fortune, Master Tiller, has 
troubled your reason. 
offered because I would not drive an un- 
fortunate and remarkable man like him 
we have to extremities, and—there may 
be other motives, but do not mistake my 
lenity. Should force become necessary 
to put your vessel into our hands, the 


What I offer was. 


harsher eye. Deeds which the lenity of 
our system now considers as venial may 
easily turn to crime !”’ 

““T ought not to take your distrust as 
other than excusable,’’ returned the smug- 
gler, evidently suppressing a feeling of 
haughty and wounded pride. ‘‘ The word 
of a freetrader should have little weight 
in the ears of a queen’s officer. We have 
been trained in different schools, and the 
same objects are seen in different colors. 
Your proposal has been heard, and, with 
some thanks for its fair intentions, it is 
refused without a hope of acceptance. 
Our brigantine is, as you rightly think, 
a remarkable vessel! Her equal, sir, for 
beauty or speed floats not the ocean. By 
Heaven! I would sooner slight the smiles 
of the fairest woman that walks the earth 
than entertain a thought which should be- 
tray the interest I feel in, that jewel of 
naval skill! You have seen her at many 
times, Captain Ludlow—in squalls and 
calms; with her wings abroad and her 
pinions shut; by day and night; near and 
far; fair and foul; and I ask you, with a 
seaman’s frankness, is she nota toy to fill 
a seaman’s heart? ”’ 

“‘T deny not the vessel’s merits, nor’ her 
beauty—’tis a pity she bears no better 
reputation.’ 

““T knew you could not withhold this 
praise! But I grow childish when there 
is questién of that brigantine! Well, sir, 
each has been heard, and now comes the 
conclusion. I part with the apple of my 
eye, ere a Stick of that lovely fabric is 
willingly deserted. Shall we make other 
ransom for the youth? What think you 
of a pledge in gold, to be forfeited should 
we forget.our word ? ”’ 

‘You ask impossibilities. In treating 
thus at all I quit the path of proud au- 
thority, because, as has been said, there 
is that about the Skimmer of the Seas 
that raises him above the coarse herd who 
in common traffic against the law. The 
brigantine or nothing !”’ 

‘“My life before that brigantine! Sir, 
you forget our fortunes are protected by 
one who laughs at the efforts of your 
fleet. You think that we are inclosed, 


664 


and that, when light shall return, there 
will remain merely the easy task to place 
your iron-mounted cruiser on our beam, 
and drive us to seek mercy. Here are 
honest mariners who could tell you of the 
hopelessness of the expedient. The Water- 
Witch has run the gauntlet of all your 
navies, and shot has never yet defaced 
her beauty.’’ 

*“And yet her limbs have been known 
to fall before a messenger from my ship.” 

‘The stick wanted the commission of 
our mistress,’’ interrupted the other, 
glancing his eye at the credulous and 
attentive crew of the boat. ‘‘ Ina thought- 
less moment *twas taken up at sea and 
fashioned to our purpose without counsel 
from the book. Nothing that touches our 
decks, under fitting advice, comes to harm. 
You look incredulous, and it is character 
to seem so. If you refuse to listen to the 
lady of the brigantine, at least lend an 
ear to your own laws. Of what offense 
can you charge Master Seadrift, that you 
hold him captive ? ”’ 

‘His redoubted name of Skimmer of 
the Seas were warranty to force him from 
a sanctuary,’’ returned Ludlow, smiling. 
‘“Though proof should fail of any imme- 
diaté crime there is impunity for the arrest, 
since the law refuses to protect him.’’ 

‘‘This is your boasted justice! Rogues 
in authority combine to condemn an ab- 
sent anda silent man. But if you think 
to do your violence with impunity, know 
there are those who take deep interest in 
the welfare of that youth.’’ 

‘This is foolish bandying of menaces,”’ 
said the Captain, warmly. ‘If you ac- 
cept my offers, speak; and if you reject 
them, abide the consequences.’’ 

“‘T abide the consequences. But since 
we cannot come to terms as victor and 
the submitting party, we may part in 
amity. Touch my hand, Captain Ludlow, 
as one brave man should salute another 
though the next minute they are to grap- 
ple at the throat.”’ 

Ludlow hesitated. The proposal was 
made with so frank and manly a mien, 
and the air of the freetrader, as he leaned 
beyond the gunwale of his boat, was so 
superior to his pursuit, that, unwilling to 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOOPER. 


seem churlish, or to be outdone in cour- 
tesy, he reluctantly consented, and laid 
his palm within the other offered. The 
smuggler profited by the junction to draw 
the boats nearer, and, to the amazement 
of all who witnessed the action, he stepped 
boldly into the yawl, and was seated face 
to face with its officer in a moment. 

‘“«'These are matters that are not fit for 
every ear,’’ said the decided and confident 
mariner, in an undertone, when he had 
made this sudden change in the position 
of the parties. ‘‘ Deal with me frankly, 
Captain Ludlow ; is your prisoner left to 
brood on his melancholy, or does he feel 
the consolation of knowing that others 
take an interest in his welfare ? ” 

‘“* He does not want for sympathy, Mas- 
ter Tiller, since he has the pity of the 
finest woman in America.’’ 

“‘Ha! la belle Barberie owns her es- 
teem ; is the conjecture right ? ”’ 

‘‘Unhappily you are too near the truth. 
The infatuated girl seems but to live in 
his presence: She has so far forgotten 
the opinion of others as to follow him to 
my ship.’’ 

Tiller listened intently; from that in- 
stant all concern disappeared from his 
countenance. 

‘‘He who is thus favored may, for a 
moment, even forget the brigantine !’’ 
he exclaimed, with his natural reckless- 
ness of air. ‘And the Alderman ? ”’ 

‘“‘Has more discretion than his niece, 
since he did not permit her to come alone.”’ 

‘“‘“Knough. Captain Ludlow, let what 
will follow, we part as friends. Fear not, 
sir, to touch the hand of a proscribed man 
again; it is honest after its own fashion, 
and many is the peer and prince who 
keeps not so clean a palm. Deal tenderly 
with that gay and rash young sailor, he 
wants the discretion of an older head, but 
the heart is kindness itself. I would haz- 
ard life to shelter his, but at every hazard 
the brigantine must be saved. Adieu.’’ 

There was emotion in the voice of the 


mariner of the shawl, notwithstanding 


his high bearing. Squeezing the hand of 
Ludlow, he passed back into his own 
barge with the ease and steadiness of one 
who had made the ocean his home. 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


- 


© Adieu !’’ he repeated, signing to his | 


men to pull in the direction of the shoals, 
where it was certain the ship could not 
follow. ““We may meet again; until 
then, adieu.”’ 

“We are sure to meet with the return 
of light.’’ 

‘** Believe it not, brave gentleman. Our 
lady will thrust the spars under her girdle, 
and pass a fleet unseen. A sailor’s bless- 
ing on you; fair winds and a plenty; a 
safe land-fall, and a cheerful home! Deal 
kindly by the boy; and, in all but evil 
wishes to my vessel, success light on your 
ensign ! ”’ 

The seamen of both boats dashed their 
oars into the water at the same instant, 
and the two parties were quickly without 
the hearing of the voice. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 


** Did I tell this, 
Who would believe me ?”’ 
—MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 


THE time of the interview related in the 
close of the preceding chapter was in the 
early watches of the night. It now be- 
comes our duty to transport the reader to 
' another that had place several hours 
later, and after day had dawned on the 
industrious burghers of Manhattan. 

There stood near one of the wooden 
wharves, which lined the arm of the sea 
on which the city is so happily placed, a 

‘dwelling, around which there was every 
sign that its owner was engaged in a 
* retail commerce, that was active and 
thriving for that age and country. Not- 
withstanding the earliness of the hour, 
the windows of this house were open ; 
and an individual, of a busy-looking face, 
thrust his head so often from one of the 
casements, as to show that he had al- 
ready expected the appearance of a sec- 
ond party in the affair that had probably 
called him from his bed even sooner than 
common. <A tremendous rap at the door 
- relieved his visible uneasiness ; and, hast- 
ening to open it, he received his visitor 
with much parade of ceremony, and many 
protestations of respect, in person. - 


665 


‘‘This is an honor, my lord, that does 
not often befall men of my humble condi- 
tion,’’ said the master of the house, in the 
flippant utterance of a vulgar cockney ; 
“but I thought it would be more agree- 
able to your lordship to receive the a—a— 
here than in the place where your lordship 
just at this moment resides. Will your 
lordship please to rest yourself, after 
your lordship’s walk ? ”’ 

‘‘T thank you, Carnaby,’’ returned the 
other, taking the offered seat with an air 
of easy superiority. ‘“‘ You judge with 
your usual discretion as respects the 
place, though I doubt the prudence of 
seeing him at all. Has the man come?’’ 

‘‘Doubtless, my lord ; he would hardly 
presume to keep your lordship waiting, 
and much less would I countefiance him in 
so gross a disrespect. He will be most 
happy. to wait on you, whenever your lord- 
ship shall please.’’ 

‘*Let him wait; there is no necessity for 
haste. He has probably communicated 
some of the objects of this extraordinary 
call on my time, Carnaby; and you can 
break them in the intervening moments.”’ 

‘‘T am sorry to say, my lord, that the 
fellow is as obstinate as a mule. I felt 
the impropriety of introducing him per- 
sonally to your lordship; but as he in- 
sisted he had affairs that would deeply 
interest you, my lord, I could not take 
upon me to say what would be agreeable 
to your lordship, or what not; and so I 
was bold enough to write the note.’’ 

** And a very properly expressed note it 
was, Master Carnaby. I have not re- 
ceived a _ better-worded communication 
since my arrival in this colony.”’ 

‘“‘T am sure the approbation of your 
lordship might justly make any man 
proud. It is the ambition of my life, my 
lord, to do the duties of my station in a 
proper manner, and to treat all above me 
with a suitable respect, my lord, and all 
below me as in reason bound. If I might 
presume to think in such a matter, my 
lord, I should say that these colonists are 
no great judges of propriety in their 
correspondence, or, indeed, in anything 
else.”’ 

The noble visitor shrugged his shoulders, 


666 


and threw an expression into his look that ! 
encouraged the retailer to proceed. 

“Tt is just what I think myself, my 
lord,’? he continued, simpering; “but 
then,’’ he added, with a condoling and 
patronizing air, ““how should they know 
any better? England is but an island, after 
all; and the whole world cannot be born 
and educated on the same bit of earth.’’ 

«<?Twould be inconvenient, Carnaby, if 
it led to no other unpleasant consequence.”’ 

«* Almost word for word what I said to 
Mrs. Carnaby myself, no later than yes- 
terday, my lord, only vastly better ex- 
pressed. ‘’T would be inconvenient,’ said 
I, ‘Mrs. Carnaby, to take in the other 
lodger, for everybody cannot live in the 
same house ;’ which covers, as it were, the 
ground takeh in your lordship’s sentiment. 
I ought to add, in behalf of the poor 
woman, that she expressed, on the same 
occasion, strong regrets that it is reported 
your lordship will be likely to quit us soon, 
on your return to old England.”’ 

‘*'That is really a subject on which there 
is more cause to rejoice than to weep. 
This imprisoning, or placing within limits, 
so near a relative of the crown, is an affair 
that must have unpleasant consequences, 
and which offends sadly against pro- 
priety.”’ 

“It is awful, my lord! If it be not 
sacrilege by the law, the greater the 
shame of the Opposition in Parliament, 
who defeat so many ‘other wholesome 
regulations intended for the good of the 
subject.’’, 

‘Faith, I am not sure I may not be 
driven to join them myself, bad as they 
are, Carnaby; for this neglect of minis- 
ters, not to call it by a worse name, might 
goad a man to a more heinous measure.”’ 

“‘T am sure nobody could blame your 
lordship, were your lordship to join any- 
body, or anything, but the French! I 
have often told Mrs. Carnaby as much as 
that in our frequent conversations con- 
cerning the unpleasant situation in which 
your lordship is just now placed.”’ 

**T had not thought the awkward trans- 
actions attracted so much notice,’’ ob- 
served the other, evidently wincing under 
the allusion. 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


“It attracts it only in a proper and 
respectful way, my lord. Neither Mrs. 
Carnaby, nor myself, ever indulges in any 
of these remarks, but in the most proper 
and truly English manner.’’ 

“The reservation might palliate a 
greater error. That word proper is a 
prudent term, and expresses all one could 
wish. Ihad not thought you so intelli- 
gent and shrewd a man, Master Carnaby ; 
clever in the way of business, I always 
knew you to be; but so apt in reason, and 
so matured in principle, is what I will 
confess I had not expected. Can you 
form no conjecture of the business of this 
man ?’’ 

‘‘Not in the least, my lord. I pressed 
the impropriety of a personal interview ; 
for though he alluded to some business or 
other, I scarcely know what, with which 
he appeared to think your lordship had 
some connection, I did not understand 
him, and we had liked to have parted with- 
out an explanation.”’ 

«J will not see the fellow.” 

‘* Just as your lordship pleases—I am 
sure that, after so many little affairs have 
passed througk my hands, I might be 
safely trusted with this; and I said as 
much—but as he positively refused to 
make me an agent, and he insisted that it 
was so much to your lordship’s interest— 
why I thought, my lord, that perhaps— 
just now Af 

«¢ Show him in.”’ 

Carnaby bowed low and submissively, 
and, after busying himself in placing the 


chairs aside, and adjusting the table more 
conveniently for the elbow of his guest, he ~ 


left the room. 

“Where is the man I bid you keep in 
the shop?’ demanded the retailer, in a 
coarse, authoritative voice when without ; 
addressing a meek and humble looking 
lad who did the duty of clerk. ‘I war- 


rant me he is left in the kitchen, and you | 


have been idling about on the walk! A 
more heedless and inattentive lad than 
yourself is not to be found in America, 


and the sun never rises but I repent hav- 


ing signed your indentures. You shall 
pay for this, you am 


The appearance of the person he sought 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


cut short the denunciations of the obse- 
quious grocer and the domestic tyrant. 
He opened the door, and having again 
closed it, left his two visitors together. 

Though the degenerated descendant of 
the great Clarendon had not hesitated to 
lend his office to cloak the irregular and 
unlawful trade that was then so preva- 
lent in the American seas, he had paid 
the sickly but customary deference to 
virtue of refusing on all occasions to treat 
personally with its agents. Sheltered be- 
hind his official and personal rank, he had 
soothed his feelings by tacitly believing 
that cupidity is less venal when its ave- 
nues are hidden; and that in protecting 
his station from an immediate contact 
with its ministers, he had discharged an 
important, and, for one in his situation, 
an imperative duty. Unequal to the ex- 
ercise of virtue itself, he thought he had 
done enough in preserving some of its 
seemliness. Though far from paying even 
this slight homage to decency in his more 
ordinary habits, his pride of rank had, on 
the subject of so coarse a failing, induced 
him tg maintain an appearance which his 
pride of character would not have sug- 
gested. Carnaby was much the most de- 
graded and the lowest of those with whom 
he ever condescended to communicate di- 
rectly; and even with him there might 
have been some scruple had not his neces- 
sities caused him to stoop so far as to ac- 
cept pecuniary assistance from one he both 
despised and detested. 

When the door opened, therefore, the 
Lord Cornbury rose, anc determined to 
bring the interview to a speedy issue. He 
turned to face the individual who entered 
with a mien into which he threw all the 
distance and hauteur that he thought 
necessary for such an object. But he 
encountered in the mariner of the India- 
shawl a very different man from the flat- 
tering and obsequious grocer who had 
just quitted him. Eye met eye; his gaze 
of authority receiving a look as steady, 
if not as curious, as his own. It was evi- 
dent by the composure of the fine, manly 
frame he saw that its owner rested his 
claims on the aristocracy of nature. The 
noble forgot his acting under the influence 


667 


or surprise, and his voice expressed as 
much admiration as command when he. 
said— 3 

‘“This, then, is the Skimmer of the 
Seas ! ” 

‘“Men call me thus; if a life passed on 
oceans gives a claim to the title, it has 
been fairly earned.”’ 

‘* Your characters—I may say that some 
portions of your history, are not unknown 
tome. Poor Carnaby, who is a worthy 
and an industrious man, with a growing 
family dependent on his exertions, has en- 
treated me to receive you, or there might 
be less apology for this step than I could 
wish. Men of a certain rank, Master 
Skimmer, owe so much to their station 
that I rely on your discretion.”’ 

‘‘T have stood in nobler presences, my 
lord, and found so little change by the 
honor that Iam not apt to boast of what 
I see. Some of princely rank have found 
their profit in my acquaintance.”’ 

‘IT do not deny your usefulness, sir; it 
is only the necessity of prudence I would 
urge. There has been, I believe, some 
sort of implied contract between us—at 
least, so Carnaby explains the transaction, 
for I rarely enter into these details myself 
—by which you perhaps may feel some 
right to include me in the list of your cus- 
tomers. Men in high places must respect 
the laws; yet it is not always convenient, 
or even useful, that they should deny 
themselves every indulgence which policy 
would prohibit to the mass. One who 
has seen as much of life as yourself needs 
no explanation on this head; and I can- 
not doubt but our present interview will 
have a satisfactory termination.” 

The Skimmer scarce deemed it necessary 
to conceal the contempt that caused his Jip 
to curl, while the other was endeavoring’ 
to mystify his cupidity. When the speaker 
was done he merely expressed an assent 
by a slight inclination of the head. The 
ex-governor saw that his attempt was 
fruitless, and by relinquishing his mas- 
querade and yielding-more to his natu- 
ral propensities and tastes he succeeded 
better. 

‘‘Carnaby has been a faithful agent,’’ 
he continued, ‘‘ and by his reports it would 


668 


seem that our confidence has not been mis- 
placed. If fame speaks true, there is not 
a more dexterous navigator of the narrow 
seas than thyself, Master Skimmer. It is 
to be supposed that your correspondents 
on this coast, too, are as lucrative as I 
doubt not they are numerous.”’ 

‘“‘He who sells cheap can never want a 
purchaser. I think your lordship has no 
reason to complain of prices.”’ 

«As pointed as his compass! Well, 
sir, as lam no longer master here, may I 
ask the object of this interview ? ”’ 

‘I have come to seek your interest in 
behalf of one who has fallen into the grasp 
of the Queen’s officers. ”’ 

‘“* Hum—the amount of which is, that 
the cruiser in the bay has entrapped a care- 
less smuggler. Weare none of us immor-: 
tal, and an arrest is but a legal death of 
men of your persuasion in commerce. In- 
terest is a word of many meanings. Itis 
the interest of one man to lend, and of 
another to borrow—of the creditor to re- 
ceive, and of the debtor to avoid payment. 
Then there is interest at court, and in- 
terest in court—in short, you must deal 
more frankly ere I can decide on the pur- 
port of your visit.”’ 

‘Tam not ignorant that the Queen has 
been pleased to name another governor 
over this colony, or that your creditors, 
my lord, have thought it prudent to take 
a pledge for their dues, in you person. 
Still, I must think that one who stands 
so near the Queen in blood, and who sooner 
or later must enjoy both rank and fortune 
in the mother country, will not solicit so 
slight a boon as that I ask without suc- 
cess, This is the reason I prefer to treat 
with you.’’ | 

** As clear an explanation as the shrewd- 
est casuist could desire! Iadmire your 
succinctness, Master Skimmer, and con- 
fess you for the pink of etiquette. When 
your fortune shall be made, I recommend 
the court circle as your place of retire- 
ment. Governors, creditors, Queen, and 
imprisonment, all as compactly placed in 
the same sentence as if it were the creed 
written on a thumb-nail! Well, sir, we 
will suppose my interest what you wish it. 
Who and what is the delinquent ?”’ 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


“One named Seadrift—a useful and a 
pleasant youth, who passes much between 
me and my customers; heedless and 
merry in his humors, but dear to all in 
my brigantine, because of tried fidelity 
and shrewd wit. We could sacrifice the 
profits of the voyage that he were free. 
To me he is a necessary agent, for his 
skill in the judgment of rich tissues, and 
other luxuries that compose my traffic, is 
exceeding ; and I am better fitted to guide 
the vessel to her haven, and to look to her 
safety amid shoals and in tempests, than 
to deal in these trifles of female vanity.” 

*‘So dexterous a go-between should not 
have mistaken a tide-waiter for a cus- 
tomer—how befell the accident ? ”’ 

‘‘He met the barge of the Coquette at 
an unlucky moment, and as we had so | 
lately been chased off the coast by the 
cruiser there was no choice but to arrest 
him’? 

‘¢ The dilemma it not without embarrass- 
ment. When once his mind is settled, it 
is no trifle that will amuse this Mr. Lud- 
low. I do not know a more literal con- 
structor of his orders; a man, sir, who 
thinks words have but a singie set of 
meanings, and who knows as little as can 
be imagined of the difference between a 
sentiment and a practice.”’ 

‘* He is a seaman, my lord, and he reads 
his instructions with a seaman’s simplicity. 
I think none the worse of him, that he 
cannot be tempted from his duty; for, let 
us understand the right as we will, our 
service once taken, it becomes us all to do 
it faithfully.”’ | 

A small red spot came and went on 
the cheek of the profligate Cornbury. 


/ Ashamed of his weakness, he affected to 


laugh at what he heard, and continued 
the discourse. 

‘Your forbearance and charity might 
adorn a churchman, Master Skimmer ! ”’ 
he answered. ‘‘ Nothing can be more 
true, for this isan age of moral truths, 
as witness the Protestant succession. Men 
are now expected to perform, and not to 
profess. Is the fellow of such usefulness 
that he may not be abandoned to his 
fate? ’’ 

‘‘Much as I dote on my brigantine, and 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


few men set their affections on woman with 
stronger love, | would see the beauteous 
craft degenerate into a cutter for the 
Queen’s revenue before I could entertain 
the thought! But I will not anticipate a 
long and painful imprisonment for the 
youth, since those who are not altogether 
powerless already take a deep and friendly 
concern in his safety.’ 

““ You have overcome the brigadier ! ”’ 
cried the other, ina burst of exultation, 
that conquered the little reserve of man- 


ner he had thought it necessary to main- 


tain; “that immaculate and reforming 
representative of my royal cousin has 
bitten of the golden bait, and proves a 
true colony governor after all ! ’”’ 

*‘Lord Viscount, no. What we have 
to hope or what we have to fear from your 
Successor, is to me a secret.”’ | 

**Ply him with promises, Master Skim- 
mer—set golden hopes before his imagina- 
tion; set gold itself before his eyes, and 
you will prosper. I will pledge my ex- 
pected earldom that he yields! Sir, these 
distant situations are like so many half- 
authorized mints, in which money is to be 
coined; and the only counterfeit is your 
mimic representative of Majesty. Ply 
him with golden hopes; if mortal, he will 
yield ! ’’ 

“Yet, my lord, I have met men who 
preferred poverty and their opinions to 
gold and the wishes of others.’’ 

‘The dolts were lusus nature!’ ex- 
claimed the dissolute Cornbury, losing all 
reserve in a manner that better suited his 
known and confirmed character. <‘‘ You 
should have caged them, Skimmer, and 
profited by their dullness to lay the curi- 
ous under contribution. Don’t mistake 
me, sir, if 1 speak a little in confidence. 
I hope I know the difference between a 
gentleman and a leveler, as well as an- 
other; but trust me, this Mr. Hunter is 
human, and he will yield if proper appli- 
ances are used; and you expect from 
me 9? 

“The exercise of that influence which 
cannot fail of success; since there is a 
courtesy between men of a certain station, 
which causes them to overlook rivalry, ina 
spirit of their caste. The cousin of Queen 


669 


Anne can yet obtain the liberty of one 
whose heaviest crime is a free trade, 
though he may not be able to keep his 
own seat in the chair of the government.”’ 

‘Thus far, indeed, my poor influence 
may yet extend, provided the fellow be 
not named in any act of outlawry. I” 
would gladly enough, Mr. Skimmer, end 
my deeds in this hemisphere with some 
act of graceful mercy, if—indeed—I saw 
—the means——’’ 

“They shall not be wanting. I know 
the law is like any other article of great 
price; some think that justice holds the 
balance, in order to weigh her fees. 
Though the profits of this hazardous and 
sleepless trade of mine be much over- 
rated, I would gladly line her scales with 
two hundred broad pieces, to have that 
youth again safe in the cabin of the 
brigantine. ’’ 

As the Skimmer of the Seas thus spoke, 
he drew, with the calmness of a man who 
saw no use in circumlocution, a heavy bag 
of gold from beneath his frock, and depos- 
ited it, without a second look at the treas-. 
ure, on the table. When this offering was 
made he turned aside, less by design than 
a careless movement of the body, and, 
when he faced his companion again, the 
bag had vanished. 

‘Your affection for the lad is touching, 
Master Skimmer,’’ returned the corrupt 
Cornbury ; ‘‘it were a pity such friend- 
ship should be wasted. Will there be 
proof to insure his condemnation ? ”’ 

‘“It may be doubted. His dealings have 
only been with the higher class of my cus- 
tomers, and with but few of them. The 
care I now take is more in tenderness to 
the youth than with any great doubts: of 
the result. I shall count you, my lord, 
among his protectors, in the event that 
the affair is noised !”’ 

“IT owe it to your frankness—but will 
Mr. Ludlow content himself with the pos- | 
session of an inferior, when the principal 
is so near? and shall we not have a con- 
fiscation of the brigantine on our hands? ’”’ 

‘‘T charge myself with the care of all 
else. There was indeed a lucky escape 
only the last night as we lay at a light 
kedge, waiting for the return of him who 


670 


has been arrested. Profiting by the’ pos- 
session of our skiff, the commander of. the 
Coquette himself got within the sweep of 
my hawse—nay, he was in the act of cut- 
ting the very fastenings, when the danger- 
ous design was discovered. ’*Twould have 
‘ been a fate unworthy of the Water-Witch 
to be cast on shore like a drifting log, and 
to check her noble career by some such a 
seizure as that of a stranded waif! ”’ 

“You avoided the mischance ? ”’ 

‘“My eyes are seldom shut, Lord Vis- 
count, when there is danger. The skiiff 
was seen in time and watched ; for I knew 
that one in whom [I trusted was abroad. 
When the movement grew suspicious, we 
had our means of frightening this Mr. 
Ludlow from his ert ar taie: without re- 
course to violence.’ 

“T have not thought him one to be 
‘scared from following up a business like 
this.’’. 

‘‘ You judged him rightly—I may say 
we judged him rightly. But when his 
boat sought us at our anchorage, the bird 
had flown.’ 

«You got the peeantine to sea in sea- 
son?’’ observed Cornbury, not sorry to 
believe that the vessel was already off the 
coast. 

‘IT had other business. My agent could 
not be thus deserted, and there were. af- 
fairs to finish in the city. Our course 
lay up the bay.’’ i 

‘‘Ha! Master Sicimtnen, ’twas a bold 
step, and one that says little for your dis- 
cretion !”’ 

‘Lord Viscount, there is safety in cour- 
age,’’ calmly and perhaps ironically re- 
turned the other. ‘‘ While the Queen’s 
Captain closed all the outlets, my little 
craft was floating quietly under the hills 
of Staten. Before the morning watch 
was set, she passed three wharves; and 
she now awaits her Captain in the broad 
basin that lies beyond the bend of yonder 
headland.’’ 

“This is foolhardiness. A failure of 
wind, a change of the tide, or any of the 
mishaps common to the sea, may throw 
you on the mercy of the law, and will 
greatly embarrass all who feel an interest 
in your safety.”’ | 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


sion of his Virgil. 


‘ 


‘‘So far as this apprehension 1s con- 
nected with my welfare, I thank you much, : 
my lord; but trust me, many hazards 
have left me but little to learn in this par- — 
ticular. We shall run the Hell-Gate and — 
gain the open sea by the Connecticut 
Sound.”’ 

“Truly, Master Skimmer, one has need 
of nerves to be your confidant! Faith in 
a compact constitutes the beauty of social 
order ; without it there is no security for 
interests, nor any repose for character. 
But faith may be implied as well as ex- 
pressed ; and when men in certain situa- 
tions place their dependence on others who 
should have motives for being wary, the — 
first are bound to respect, even to the de- 
tails of a most scrupulous construction, 
the conditions of the covenant. Sir, I — 
wash my hands of this transaction, if it be 
understood that testimony is to be ac- 
cumulated against us by thus putting 
your Water-Witch in danger of trial be- 
fore the admiralty.’ 

‘‘]_ am sorry that this is your decision,” 
returned the Skimmer. ‘‘ What is done, 
cannot be recalled, though I still hope it 
may be remedied. My brigantine now 
lies within a league of this, and ’twould 
be treachery to deny it. Since it is your 
opinion, my lord, that our contract is not 
valid, there is little use in its seal—the 
broad pieces may still be serviceable in 
shielding the youth from harm.” 

‘Wiig are as literal in constructions, 
Master Skimmer, as a school-boy’s ver- — 
There is an idiom in 
diplomacy, as well as in language, and — 
one who treats so sensibly should not be — 
ignorant, of its phrases. Bless me, sir; — 
an hypothesis is not a conclusion, any — 
more than a promise is a performance. — 
That which is advanced by way of sup- | 
position is but the ornament of reasoning, — 
while your gold has the more solid character — 
of demonstration. Ourbargain is made.” ~ 

The unsophisticated mariner regarded 
the noble casuist a moment, in doubt 
whether to acquiesce in this conclusion, 
or not; but ere he had decided on his 
course, ie windows of the room were | 
shaken violently and the heavy roar of a 
piece of ordnance succeeded. 7 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


«The morning gun!” exclaimed Corn- 
bury, who started at the explosion with 
the sensitiveness of one unworthily em- 
ployed. “No! ’tis an hour past the 
rising of the sun! ”’ 

The Skimmer showed no yielding of the 
nerves, though it was evident by his atti- 
tude of thought and the momentary 
fixedness of his eye that he foresaw dan- 
ger was near. Moving to the window, he 
looked out on the water, and instantly 
drew back, like one who wanted no far- 
ther evidence. 

“Our bargain, then, is made,’’ he said, 
hastily approdching the Viscount, whose 
hand he seized and wrung in spite of the 
other’s obvious reluctance to allow the 
familiarity ; “our bargain is made. Deal 
fairly by the youth, and the deed will be 
remembered—deal treacherously, and it 
shall be revenged ! ”’ 

For an instant longer the Skimmer held 
the member of the effeminate Cornbury 
imprisoned ; then, raising his cap witha 
courtesy that appeared more in deference 
to himself than his companion, he turned 
on his heel, and with a firm but quick step 
he left the house. 

Carnaby, who entered on the instant, 
found his guestdn a state between resent- 
- ment, surprise and alarm. But habitual 
levity soon conquered other feelings, and 
finding himself freed from the presence of 
a man who had treated him with so little 
ceremony, the ex-governor shook his head 
like one accustomed to submit to evils he 
could not obviate, and assumed the ease 
and indolent superiority he was accustomed 
to maintain in the presence of the obse- 
quious grocer. | 

«This may be a coral or a pearl, or any 
other precious gem of the ocean, Master 
Carnaby,’’ he said, unconscious himself 
that he was in a manner endeavoring to 
cleanse his violated hand from the touch 
it had endured, by the use of his handker- 
chief, “‘but it is one on which the salt 
water hath left its crust. Truly it is to be 

hoped that I am never again to be block- 

- aded by such.a monster, or I may better 
say, harpooned; for the familiarity of the 
boatswain is more painful than any in- 
ventions of his brethren of the deep can 


alarm to my sea-lion—ha ! 


671 


prove to their relative the leviathan. Has 
the clock told the hour ?”’ 

‘<?*Tis not yet six, my lord, and there is — 
abundant leisure for your lordship to re- 
turn in season to your lordship’s lodgings. 
Mrs. Carnaby has dared to flatter herself 
that your lordship will condescend to 
honor us so far as to taste a dish of bohea 
under our humble roof.’’ 

“What is the meaning of that gun, 
Master Carnaby? It gave the alarm to 
the smuggler as if it had been a summons 
from Execution Dock, or a groan from the 
ghost of Kidd.”’ 

*‘T never presume to think, my lord. I 
suppose it to be some pleasure of her 
Majesty’s officers in the fort; and when 
that is the case, one is quite’ certain 
that all is proper and very English, my 
lord.”’ 

‘«?Rore George, sir, English or Dutch; 
it hath the quality to frighten the sea- 
fowl—this curlew—this albatross, from 
his perch! ” 

‘“Upon my duty to your lordship, your 
lordship has the severest wit of any gen- © 
tleman in her Majesty’s kingdom ; but all 
the nobility and gentry are so witty that 
it is quite an honor and an edification to 
hear them! If it is your lordship’s pleas- 
ure I will look out of the window, my lord, 
and see if there be anything visible.’’ 

‘‘Do so, Master Carnaby—I confess a 
little curiosity to know what has given the 
do Inot see the 
masts of ‘a ship moving above the roofs of 
yonder line of stores ? ”’ 

‘Well, your lordship has the quickest 
eye ! and the happiest way of seeing things 
of any nobleman in England! Now I 
should have stared a quarter of an hour 
before I thought of looking over the roofs 
of those stores at all; and yet your lord- 
ship looks there at the very first glance.”’ 

‘Ts it a ship or a brig, Master Carnaby 
—you have the advantage of position, for 
I would not willingly be seen—speak 
quickly, dolt; ship or brig? ”’ 

«My lord—’tis a brig—or a ship—really, 
I must ask your lordship, for I know so 
little of these things——”’ 

‘‘Nay, complaisant Master Carnaby— 
have an opinion of your own for one mo- 


672 WORKS — 
ment, if you please—there is smoke curling 
upward, behind those masts——’’ 

Another rattling of windows, and a 
second report, removed all doubts on the 
subject of firing. At the next instant, the 
bows of a vessel of war appeared at the 
opening of a ship-yard; then came gun 
after gun in view, until the whole broad- 
side of the Coquette was visible. 

The Viscount sought no further solution 
of the reason why the Skimmer had left 
him so hurriedly. Fumbling a moment in 
a pocket, he drew forth a hand filled with 
broad pieces of gold. These he appeared 
about to lay upon the table; but, as it 
were by forgetfulness, he kept the member 
closed, and bidding the grocer adieu, he 
left the house, with as firm a resolution as 
was ever made by any man, conscious of 
having done both a weak and a wicked 
action, of never again putting himself in 
familiar contact with so truckling a mis- 
creant. 


ns 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 


** What care these roarers for the name of king?” 
—TEMPEST. 


THE Manhattanese will readily compre- 
hend the situation of the two vessels; but 
those of our countrymen who live in dis- 
tant parts of the Union may be glad to 
have the localities explained. 

Though the vast estuary which receives 


the Hudson and so many minor streams is. 


chiefly made by an indentation of the con- 
tinent, that portion of it which forms the 
port of New York is separated from the 
ocean by the happy position of its islands. 
Of the latter there: are two, which give 
the general character to the basin, and 
even to a long line of coast ; while several, 
that are smaller, serve as useful and beau- 
tiful accessories to the haven and to the 
landscape. Between the bay of Raritan 
and that of New York there are two com- 
munications, one between the islands of 
Staten and Nassau, called the Narrows, 
which is the ordinary ship-channel of the 
port, and the other between Staten and 
the main, which is known by the name of 
the Kills. It is by means of the latter 
that at pass into the neighboring 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


waters of New Jersey, and have access to 
so many of the rivers of that State. But 


while the island of Staten does so much — 


for the security and facilities of the port, 
that of Nassau produces an effect on a 
great extent of coast. After sheltering 
one-half of the harbor from the ocean, the 
latter approaches so near the continent as 
to narrow the passage between them to 
the length of two cables, and then stretch- 
ing away eastward for the distance of a 
hundred miles, it forms a wide and beau- 
tiful sound. After passing a cluster of 
islands, at a point which lies forty leagues 
from the city, by another passage, vessels 
can gain the open sea. 

The seaman will at once understand that 
the tide of flood must necessarily flow 
into these vast estuaries from different di- 
rections. The current which enters by 
Sandy Hook (the scene of so much of this 
tale) flows westward into the Jersey rivers, 
northward into the Hudson, and eastward 
along the arm of the sea that lies between 
Nassau and-the Main. The current that 
comes by the way of Montauk, or the 


eastern extremity of Nassau, raises the 


vast basin of the Sound, fills the streams 
of Connecticut, and meets the western 
tide at a place called Throgmorton, and 
within twenty miles of the city. 

As the size of the estuaries is so great, 
it is scarcely necessary to explain that the 
pressure of such wide sheets of water 
causes the currents, at all the narrow 
passes, to be exceedingly rapid ; since that 
equal diffusion of the element, which de- 
pends on a natural law, must, wherever 
there is a deficiency of space, be obtained 
by its velocity. There is, consequently, a 
quick tide throughout the whole distance 
between. the harbor and Throgmorton; 
while it is permitted to poetic license to 
say, that at the narrowest part of the 
channel, the water darts by the land like 
an arrow parting fromits bow. Owing to 
a sudden bend in the course of the stream, 
which makes two right angles within a 
short distance, the dangerous position of 
many rocks that are visible and more 
that are not, and the confusion produced 


by currents, counter-currents, and eddies, 
this critical pass has received the name 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


of “ Hell-Gate.”’ 
causing many a gentle bosom to palpitate 
with a terror that is little exaggerated 
by the boding name, though it is con- 
stantly the cause of pecuniary losses, and 
has in many instances been the source of 
much personal danger. It was here that 
a British frigate was lost, during the 
war of the Revolution, in consequence of 
having struck a rock called “the Pot,’’ 
the blow causing the ship to fill and to 
founder so suddenly, that even some of 
her people are said to have been drowned. 
A similar but a greatly lessened effect is 
produced in the passage among the isl- 
lands, by which vessels gain the ocean 
at the eastern extremity: of the Sound— 
though the magnitude of the latter sheet 
of water is so much greater than that 
of Raritan Bay and the harbor of New 
York, that the force of its pressure is 
diminished by a corresponding width in 
the outlets. With these explanations, 
we shall return to the thread of the nar- 
rative. 

When the person who has so long been 
known in our pages by the nom de guerre 
of Tiller gained the open street, he had a 
better opportunity of understanding the 
nature of the danger which so imminently 
pressed upon the brigantine. With a single 
glance at the symmetrical spars and broad 
yards of the ship that was sweeping past 
the town, he knew her to be the Coquette. 
The little flag at her fore-topgallant-mast 
sufficiently explained the meaning of the 
gun; for the two, in conjunction with 
the direction the ship was steering, told 
him in language that any seaman could 
comprehend, that she demanded a Hell- 
Gate pilot. By the time the Skimmer 
reached the end of a lone wharf, where a 
light and swift rowing boat awaited his 
return, the second report bespoke the 
impatience of his pursuers to be furnished 
with the necessary guide. 

Though the navigation in this republic, 
coastwise, now employs a tonnage equal- 
ing that used in all the commerce of any 
other nation of Christendom, England 
alone excepted, it was of no great amount 


at the commencement of the eighteenth 


century. A single ship, lying at the 
IV .—22 


673 


It is memorable for] wharves, and two or three brigs and 


schooners at anchor in the rivers, com- 
posed the whole show of sea-vessels then 
in port. To these were to be added some 
twenty smaller coasters and river-craft, 
most of whom were the shapeless and 
slow-moving masses which .then plied, in 
voyages of a month’s duration, between 
the two principal towns of the colony. 
The appeal of the Coquette, therefore, at 
that hour and-in that age, was not likely 
to be very quickly answered. 

The ship had got fairly into the arms of 
the sea which separates the island of Man- 
hattan from that of Nassau, and though 
it was not then, as now, narrowed by 
artificial means, its tide was so strong as, 
aided by the breeze, to float her swiftly 
onward. A third gun shook the windows 
of the city, causing many a worthy burgh- 
er to thrust his head through his case- 
ment; yet no boat was seen pulling from 
the land, nor was there any other visible 
sign that the signal would be speedily 
obeyed. Still the royal cruiser stood 
steadily on, with sail packed above sail, 
and every sheet of canvas spread, that 
the direction of a wind, which blew a little 
forward of the beam, would allow. 

‘We must pull for our own safety and 
that of the brigantine, my men,”’ said the 
Skimmer, springing into his boat, and seiz- 
ing the tiller. ‘‘A quick stroke, and a 
strong ! here is no time for holiday feather- 
ing, or your man-of-war jerk! Give way, 
boys; give way, with a will, and to- 
gether ! ’’ | 

These were sounds that had often sa 
luted the ears of men engaged in the 
hazardous pursuit of his crew. The oars 
fell into the water at the same moment, 
and, quick as thought, the light bark was 
in the strength of the current. 

The short range of wharves was soon 
passed, and, ere many minutes, the boat 
was gliding up with the tide, between the 
bluffs of Long Island and the projection 
which forms the angle on that part of 
Manhattan. Here the Skimmer was in- 
duced to sheer more into the center of the 
passage, in order to avoid the eddies 
formed by the point, and to preserve the 
whole benefit of the current. As the boat 


674 


approached Corlaer’s, his eye was anxious- 
ly examining the wider reach of the water 
that began to open above, in quest of his 
brigantine. Another gun was heard. A 
moment after the report there followed 
the whistling of a shot; then succeeded 
the rebound on the water and the glitter- 
ing particles of the spray. The ball 
glanced a few hundred feet farther, and, 
skipping from place to place, it soon sank 
into the element. 

“This Mr. Ludlow is disposed to kill 
two birds with the same stone,’’ coolly 
observed the Skimmer, not even bending 
his head aside to note the position of the 
ship. ‘‘He wakes the burghers of the 
town with his noise, while he menaces 
our boat with his shot We are seen, my 
friends, and have no dependence but our 
own manhood, with some assistance from 
the lady of the sea-green mantle. A 
quicker stroke, and a strong! You have 
the Queen’s cruiser before you, Master 
Coil; does she show boats on her quar- 
ters, or are the davits empty ? ”’ 

The seaman addressed pulled the stoke- 
oar of the boat, and consequently he faced 
the Coquette. Without in the least re- 
laxing his exertions, he rolled his eyes 
over the ship, and answered with a stead- 
iness that showed him to be a man ac- 
customed to situations of hazard: 

‘‘ His boat-falls are as loose as a mer- 
maid’s locks, your honor, and he shows 
few men in his tops; there are enough 
of the rogues left, however, to give us 
another shot.”’ 

‘‘Her Majesty’s servants are early 
awake this morning. Another stroke or 
two, hearts of oak, and we throw them 
behind the land !’’ 

A second shot fell into the water just 
without the blades of the oars; then the 
boat, obedient to its helm, whirled round 
the point, and the ship was no longer 
visible. As the cruiser was shut in by 
the formation of the land, the brigantine 
came into view on the opposite side of 
Corlaer’s. Notwithstanding the calm- 
ness that reigned in the features of the 
Skimmer, one who studied: his counte- 


nance closely might have seen an expres- 


sion of concern shadowing his manly face, 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


as the Water-Witch met his eye. Still 
he spoke not, concealing his uneasiness, 
if in truth he felt any, from those whose 
exertions were at that moment of the 
last importance. As the crew of the ex- 
pecting vessel saw their boat, they al- 
tered their course, and the two were soon 
together. 

“Why is that signal still flying ?”’ de- 
manded the Skimmer, the instant his foot 
touched the deck of his brigantine, and 
pointing, as he spoke, at the little flag 
that fluttered at the head of the forward 
mast. 

‘«“We keep it aloft to hasten off the 
pilot,’’? was the answer. 

‘‘Has not the treacherous knave kept 
faith ?’’? exclaimed the Skimmer, half re- 


coiling in surprise. ‘‘He hasmy gold, and 


in return I hold fifty of his worthless 
promises—ha !—the laggard is in yon 
skiff ; wear the brig round and meet him, 
for moments are as precious now as water 
in a desert.”’ . 

The helm was a-weather, and the lively 
brigantine had already turned more than 
half aside, when another gun drew every 
eye toward the point. The smoke was 
seen rising above the bend in the land, 
and presently the head-sails, followed by 
all the hull and spars of the Coquette, 
came into view. 

At that instant a voice from forward 
announced that the pilot had turned, and 
was rowing with all his might toward the 
shore. The imprecations that were 
heaped on the head of the delinquent were 
many and deep, but it was no time for in- 
decision. The two vessels were now not 
half a mile apart, and now was the mo- 
ment to show the qualities of the Water- 
Witch. Her helm was shifted; and, as 
if conscious herself of the danger that 
threatened her liberty, the beautiful fabric 
came sweeping up to her course, and, in- 
clining to the breeze, with one heavy flap 
of the canvas, she glided ahead with her 
wonted ease. But the royal cruiser was 


a ship of ten thousand! For twenty min- 


utes the nicest eye might have been at a 
loss to say which lost or gained, so equally 
did the pursuer and the pursued hold on 
their way. As the brigantine was the 


On, , 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


first, however, to reach the narrow pas- 
sage, formed by Blackwell’s, her motion 
was favored by the increasing power of 
the stream. It would seem that this 
change, slight as it was, did not escape 
the vigilance of those in the Coquette ; for 
the gun, which had been silent so long, 
again sent forth its flame and smoke. 
Four discharges, in less than so many 
minutes, threatened a serious disadvan- 
tage to the freetraders. Shot after shot 
passed among their spars, and opened 
wide rents in the canvas. A few more 
such assaults would deprive them of their 
means of motion. Aware of the crisis, the 
accomplished and prompt seaman who 
governed her movements needed but an 
instant to form his decision. 

The brigantine was now nearly up with 
the head of Blackwell’s. It was half-flood 
onaspring tide. The reef that projects 
_from the western end of the island far into 
the reach below, was nearly covered ; but 
still enough was visible to show the nature 
of the barrier it presented to a passage 
from {one shore to the other. There was 
a rock, near the island itself, which lifted 
its black head high above the water. 
Between this dark mass of stone and the 
land there was an opening of some twenty 
fathoms in width. The Skimmer saw, by 
the even and unbroken waves that rolled 
through the passage, that the bottom lay 
less near to the surface of the water in 
that opening, than at any other point 
along the line of the reef. He com- 
manded the helm a-weather cnce more, 
and calmly trusted to the issue. 

Not a man on board the brigantine was 
aware that the shot of the royal cruiser 
was whistling between their masts, and 
damaging their gear, as the little vessel 
glided into the narrow opening. A single 
blow on the rock would have been destruc- 
tion, and the lesser danger was entirely 
absorbed. But when the passage was 
cleared, and the true stream in the other 
channel gained, a common shout pro- 
claimed both the’weight of their appre- 
hension and their relief. In another min- 
ute the head of Blackwell’s protected them 
from the shot of their pursuers. 

The length of the reef prevented. the 


675 


Coquette from changing her direction, and 
her draught of water closed the passage 
between the rock and the island. . But 
the deviation from the straight course, 
and the passage of the eddies, had enabled 
the ship, which came steadily on, to range 
up nearly abeam of her chase. Both ves- 
sels, though separated by the long, nar- 
row island, were now fairly in the force of 
those currents which glide so swiftly 
through the confined passages. A sudden 
thought glanced on the mind of the Skim- 
mer, and he.lost no time in attempting to 
execute its suggestion. Again the helm 
was put up, and the image of the sea- 
green lady was seen struggling to stem 
the rapid waters. Had this effort been 
crowned with success, the triumph of her 
followers would have been complete ; since 
the brigantine might have reached some ~ 
of the eddies of the reach below, and leav- 
ing her heavier pursuer to contend with 
the strength of the tide, she would have 
gained the open sea by the route over 
which she had so lately passed. But a 
single minute of trial convinced the bold 
mariner that his decision came too late. 
The wind was insufficient to pass the 
gorge; and, environed by the land, with 
a tide that grew stronger at each mo- 
ment, he saw that delay would be destruc- 
tion. Once more the light vessel yielded 
to the helm, and, with everything set to 
the best advantage, she darted along the 
passage. 

In the meantime the Coquette had not 
been idle. Borne on by the breeze, and 
floating with the current, she had even 
gained upon her chase; and as her lofty 
and light sails drew strongest over the 
land, there was every prospect of her first 
reaching the eastern end of Blackwell’s. 
Ludlow saw his advantage, and made his 
preparations accordingly. 

There needs little explanation to render 
the circumstances which brought the 
royal cruiser up to town, intelligible to 
the reader. As the morning approached, 
she had entered more deeply into the bay; 
and when the light permitted, those on 
board her had been able to see that no 
vessel lay beneath the hills, nor in any of 
the more retired places of the estuary. A 


676 WORKS 
fisherman, however, removed the last of 
their doubts, by reporting that he had 
seen a vessel, whose description answered 
that of the Water-Witch, passing the 
Narrows in the middle watch. He added 
that a swiftly-rowing boat was, shortly 
after, seen pulling in the same direction. 
This clew had been sufficient. Ludlow 
made a signal for his own boats to close 
the passage of the Kills and the Narrows, 
and then, as has been seen, he steered 
directly into the harbor. 

When Ludlow found himself in the posi- 
tion just described, he turned all his at- 
tention to the double object of preserving 
his own vessel and arresting that of the 
freetrader. Though there was still a pos- 
sibility of damaging the spars of the brig- 
antine by firing across the land, the feeble- 
ness of his own crew, reduced as it was by 
more than half its numbers, the danger of 
doing injury to the farm-houses that were 
here and there placed along the low cliffs, 
and the necessity of preparation to meet 
the critical pass ahead, united to prevent 
the attempt. The ship was no sooner 
fairly entered into the pass between 
Blackwell’s and Nassau, than he issued 
an order to secure the guns that had been 
used, and to clear away the anchors. 

“‘Cock-bill the bowers, sir,’’ he hastily 
added, in his orders to Trysail. ‘‘ We are 
in no condition to sport with stock-and- 
fluke; have everything ready to let go at 
a word; and see the grapnels ready—we 
will throw them aboard the smuggler as 
we close, and take him alive. Once fast 
to the chain, we are yet strong enough to 
haul him in under our scuppers, and to 
capture him with the pumps! Is the sig- 
nal still abroad for a pilot? ”’ 

‘«‘We keep it flying, sir, but ’twill be a 
swift boat that overhauls us in this tide’s- 
way. The Gate begins at yonder bend in 
the land, Captain Ludlow ! ’’ 

‘Keep it abroad; the lazy rogues are 
sometimes loitering. in the cove this side 
the rock, and chance may throw one of 
them aboard us as we pass. See to the 
anchors, sir; the ship is driving through 
this channel like a race-horse under the 
whip !”’ 

The men were hurriedly piped to this 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


duty, while their young commander took 
his station on the poop, now anxiously ex- 
amining the courses of the tides and the 
positions of the eddies, and now turning 
his eyes toward the brigantine, whose 
upper spars and white sails were to be 
seen, at the distance of two hundred 
fathoms, glancing past the trees of the 
island. But miles and minutes seemed 
like rods and moments in that swift cur- 
rent. Trysail had just reported the an- 
chors ready, when the ship swept up 
abreast of the Cove, where the vessels 
often seek an anchorage, to await favor- 
able moments for entering the Gate. Lud- 
low saw, at a glance, that the place was 
entirely empty. For an instant he yielded 
to the heavy responsibility—a responsi- 
bility before which a seaman sooner 
shrinks than before any other—that of 
charging himself with the duty of the 
pilot; and he thought of running into the 
anchorage for shelter. But another 
glimpse at the spars of the brigantine 
caused him to waver. 

“We are near the Gate, sir!’ cried 
Trysail, in a voice that was full of warn- 
ing. 

«¢ Yon daring mariner stands on!”’ 

“The rogue sails his vessel without the 
Q@ueen’s permission, Captain Ludlow. 


They tell me this is a passage that has . 


been well named ! ”’ 

‘“‘T have been through it, and will 
vouch for its character—he shows no Signs 
of anchoring !”’ 

‘‘If the woman who points his course 
can carry him through safely, she de- 
serves her title. We are passing the 
Cove, Captain Ludlow !”’ 

«We are past it!’ returned Ludlow, 
breathing heavily. ‘‘Let there be no 
whisper in the ship—pilot or no pilot, we 
now sink or swim! ”’ 

Trysail had ventured to remonstrate, 
while there wasa possibility of avoiding the 
danger ; but, like his commander, he saw 
that all depended now on their own cool- 
ness and care. 
the crew ; saw that each brace and bow- 
line was manned ; cautioned a few young 
officers who continued on board to vigil- 
ance; and then awaited the orders of his 


He passed busily among 


= a. 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


superior with the composure that is neces- 
- sary to a seaman in the moment of trial. 
Ludlow himself, while he felt the load of 
responsibility he had assumed, succeeded 
equally well in maintaining an outward 
calm. The ship was irretrievably in the 
Gate, and no human power could retrace 
the step. At such moments of intense anx- 
iety, the human mind is wont to seek sup- 
port in the opinions of others. Notwith- 
standing the increasing velocity and the 
critical condition of his own vessel, Ludlow 
cast a glance, in order to ascertain the de- 
termination of the Skimmer of the Seas. 
Blackwell’s was already behind them, and 
as the two currents were again united, 
the brigantine had luffed up into the en- 
trance of the dangerous passage, and now 
followed within two hundred feet of the 
Coquette, direct'y in her wake. The bold 
and manly-looking mariner, who con- 
‘trolled her, stood between the knight- 
heads, just above the image of his pre- 
tended mistress, where he examined the 
foaming reefs, the whirling eddies, and 
the varying currents, with folded arms 
and a riveted eye. A glance was ex- 
changed between the two officers, and 
the freetrader raised his sea-cap. Ludlow 
was too courteous not to return the salu- 
tation, then all his senses were engrossed 
by the care of his ship. A rock lay before 
them, over which the water broke in a 
loud and unceasing roar. For an instant 
it seemed that the vessel could not avoid 
the danger; then it was already past. 
«* Brace up!” said Ludlow, in the calm 
tones that denote a forced tranquillity. 
<‘Tuff!’? called out the Skimmer, so 
quickly as to show that he took the move- 
ments of the cruiser for his guide. The 
ship came closer to the wind, but the sud- 
den bend in the stream no longer permit- 
ted her to steer ina direct line with its 
course. Though drifting to windward 
with vast rapidity, her way through the 
water, which was greatly increased by the 
contrary actions of the wind and tide, 
caused the cruiser to shoot across the cur- 
rent ; while a reef, over which the water 
madly tumbled, lay immediately in her 
course. The danger seemed too imminent 
for the observances of nautical etiquette, 


eee, 


677 


and Trysail called aloud that the ship 
must be thrown back, or she was lost. 

‘‘ Hard-a-lee ! ’’ shouted Ludlow, in the 
strong voice of authority. ‘‘Up with 
everything —tacks and sheets !— main- 
topsail haul ! ’ 

The ship seemed as conscious of her dan- 
ger as any on herdecks. The bows whirled 
away from the foaming reef, and as the 
sails caught the breeze on their opposite 
surfaces, they aided in bringing her head 
in the contrary direction. A minute had 
scarcely passed ere she was back, and in 
the next she was about and full again. 
The intensity of the brief exertion kept 
Trysail fully employed ; but no sooner had 
he leisure to look ahead than he again 
called aloud— 

“¢ Here is another roarer under her bows; 
luff, sir, luff, or we are upon it ! ”’ 

‘‘Hard down your helm!” once again 
came in deep tones from Ludlow ; ‘‘ let fly 
your sheets—throw aback, forward and 
aft—away with the yards, with a will, 
men !”’ 

There was need for all these-precau- 
tions. Though the ship had so happily 
escaped the danger of the first reef, a 
turbulent and roaring caldron in the 
water, which, as representing the ele- 
ment in ebullition, is called ‘‘ the Pot,’’ 
lay so directly before her as to render the 
danger apparently inevitable. But the 
power of the canvas was not lost on this 
trying occasion. The forward motion of 
the ship diminished, and as the current 
still swept her swiftly to windward, her 
bows did not enter the rolling waters until 
the hidden rocks which caused the com- 
motion had been passed. The yielding 
vessel rose and fell in the agitated water, 
as if in homage to the whirlpool; but the 
deep keel was unharmed. 

“Tf the ship shoot ahead twice her 
length more, her bows will touch the 
eddy !’’ exclaimed the vigilant master. 

Ludlow looked around him for a single 
moment in indecision. The waters were 
whirling and roaring on every side, and 
the sails began to lose their power, as the 
ship drew near the bluff which forms the 
second angle in this critical pass. He 
saw, by objects on the land, that he still 


678 WORKS 
approached the shore, and he had re- 
course to the seaman’s last expedient. 

“Let go both anchors!” was the final 
order. 

The fall of the massive iron into the 
water was succeeded by the rumbling of 
the cable. The first effort to check the 
progress of the vessel appeared to threaten 
dissolution to the whole fabric, which trem- 
bled under the shock from its mastheads 
to the keel. But the enormous rope 
again yielded, and smoke was seen rising 
round the wood which held it. The ship 
whirled with the sudden check, ana sheered 
wildly in toward the shore. Met by the 
helm, and again checked by the efforts of 
the crew, she threatened to defy restraint. 
There was an instant when all on board 
expected to hear the cable snap; but the 
upper sails filled, and as the wind was now 
brought over the taffrail, the force of the 
current was in a great degree met by that 
of the breeze. 

The ship answered her helm and became 
stationary, while the water foamed 
against her cutwater, as if she were 
driven ahead with the power of a brisk 
breeze. 

The time, from the moment when the 
Coquette entered the Gate, to that when 
she anchored below ‘“‘the Pot,’’ though 
the distance was near a mile, seemed but 
a minute. Certain, however, that his 
ship was now checked, the thoughts of 
Ludlow returned to their other duties 
with the quickness of lightning, 

‘‘Olear away the grapnels,”’ he eagerly 
cried, ‘‘stand by to heave, and haul in !— 
heave! ”’ 

But, that the reader may better com- 
prehend the motive of this sudden order, 
he must consent to return to the entrance 
of the dangerous passage, and accompany 
the Water-Witch also, in her hazardous 
experiment to get through without a pilot. 

The abortive attempt of the. brigantine 
to stem the tide of the western end of 
Blackwell’s will be remembered. It had 
no other effect than to place her pursuer 
more in advance, and to convince her own 
commander that he had now no other re- 
source than to continue his course ; for, 
had he anchored, boats would have insured 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


his capture. When the two vessels ap- 
peared off the eastern end of the island, 
the Coquette was ahead—a fact that the 
experienced freetrader did not at all re- 
gret. He profited by the circumstance to 
follow her movements, and to make a fav- 
orable entrance into the uncertain cur- 
rents. To him, Hell-Gate was known 
only by its fearful reputation among mar- 
iners; and unless he might avail himself 
of the presence of the cruiser, he had no 
other guide than his own general know]l- 
edge of the power of the element. 

When the Coquetie had tacked, the calm 
and observant Skimmer was satisfied with 
throwing his head-sails flat to the mast. 
From that instant, the brigantine lay 
floating in the current, neither advancing 
nor receding a foot, and always keeping 
her position at a safe distance from the 
ship that was so adroitly made to answer 
the purposes of a beacon. The sails were 
watched with the closest care, and so 
nicely was the delicate machine tended, 
that it wouid have been, at any moment, 
in her people’s power to have lessened 
her way, by turning to the stream. The 
Coquette was followed till she anchored, 
and the call en board the cruiser te heave 
the grapnels had been given, because the 
brigantine was apparently floating direct- 
ly down on her broadside. 

When the grapnels were hove from the 


royal cruiser, the freetrader stood onthe 


low poop of his little vessel, within fifty 
feet of him who had issued the order. 
There was a smile of indifference on his 
firm mouth, while he silently waved a hand 
to his own crew. The signal was obeyed 
by bracing round their yards, and suffer- 
ing all the canvas to fill. The brigantine 
shot quickly ahead, and the useless irons 
fell heavily into the water. 

‘‘Many thanks for your pilotage, Cap- 
tain Ludlow !”’ cried the daring and suc- 
cessful mariner of the shawl, as his vessel, 
borne on by wind and current, receded 
rapidly from the cruiser. ‘‘ You will find 
me off Montauk; for affairs still keep us 
on the coast. Our lady has, however, put 
on the blue mantle; and ere many settings 
of the sun we shall look for deep water. 
Take good care of her Majesty’s ship, I 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


pray thee, for she has neither a more 
beautiful nor a faster '’’ 

One thought succeeded another with the 
tumult of a torrent, in the mind of Lud- 
low. As the brigantinelay directly under 
his broadside, the first impulse was to use 
his guns; at the next moment he was con- 
scious that before they could be cleared 
distance would render them useless. His 
lips had nearly parted with intent to order 
the cables cut, but he remembered the 
speed of the brigantine and hesitated. A 
sudden freshening of the breeze decided his 
course. Finding that the ship was en- 
abled to keep her station, he ordered the 
crew to thrust the whole of the enormous 
ropes through the hawse-holes ; and, freed 
from the restraint, he abandoned the 
anchors until an opportunity to reclaim 

them should offer. 

The operation of slipping the cables con- 
sumed several minutes; and when the 
Coquette, with everything set, was again 
steering in pursuit, the Water-Witch was 
already beyond the reach of her guns. 
Both vessels, however, held on their way, 
keeping as near as possible to the center 
of the stream, and trusting more to fort- 
tune, than to any knowledge of the chan- 
nel, for safety. 

When passing the two small islands 
that lie at no great distance from the 
Gate, a boat was seen moving toward the 
royal cruiser. A man in it pointed to 
the signal, which was still flying, and 
offered his services. 

‘‘ Tell me,’’ demanded Ludlow, eagerly, 
‘‘has yonder brigantine taken a pilot? ”’ 

«< By her movements, I judge not. She 
brushed the sunken rock, off the mouth of 
Flushing bay; and as she passed, I heard 
the song of the lead. I should have gone 
on board myself, but the fellow rather flies 
than sails; and as for signals, he seems to 
mind none but his own.” 

«Bring us up with him, and fifty guineas 
is thy reward !”’ 

‘The slow-moving pilot, who in truth 
had just awaked from a refreshing sleep, 
opened his eyes, and seemed to gather a 
new impulse from the promise. "When his 
questions were asked and answered, he 
began deliberately to count on his fingers 


without success. 


679 


all the chances that still existed of a vessel, 
whose crew was ignorant of the navigation, 
falling into their hands, 

«* Admitting that, by keeping mid- 
channel, she goes clear of White Stone 
and Frogs,’’ he said, giving te Throgmor- 
ton’s its vulgar name, “‘he must be a 
wizard, to know that the Stepping-Stones 
lie directly across his course, and that a 
vessel must steer away northerly, or bring 
up on rocks that will as surely hold him as 
if he were built there. Then he runs his 
chance for the Executioners, which are as 
prettily placed as needs be, to make our 
trade flourish ; besides the Middle Ground 
farther east, though I count but little on 
that, having often tried to find it myself, 
Courage, noble Captain ! 
if the fellow be the man you say, we shall 
get a nearer look at him before the sun 
sets ; for certainly he who has run the 
Gate without a pilot in safety, has had as 
much good luck as can fall to his share in 
one day.” 

The opinion of the East River Branch 
proved erroneous. Notwithstanding the 
hidden perils by which she was environed, 
the Water-Witch continued her course, 
with a speed that increased as the wind 
rose with the sun, and with an impunity 
from harm that amazed all who were in 
the secret of her situation. Off Throg- 
morton’s there was, in truth, a danger 
that might even have baffled the sagacity 
of the followers of the mysterious lady, 
had they not been aided by accident. This 
is the point where the straightened arm 
of the sea expands into the basin of the 
Sound. A broad and inviting passage lies 
directly before the navigator, while, like 
the flattering prospects of life, numberless 
hidden obstacles are in wait to arrest the 
unheeding and ignorant. 

The Skimmer of the Seas was deeply 
practiced in all the intricacies and dangers 
of shoals and rocks. Most of his life had 
been passed in threading the one or in 
avoiding the other. So keen and quick 
had his eye become, in detecting the pres- 
ence of any of those signs which forewarn 
the mariner of danger, that a ripple on 
the surface, or a deeper shade in the color 
of the water, rarely escaped his vigilance. 


680 WORKS OF 


Seated on the topsail-yard of his brigan- 
tine, he had overlooked the passage from 
the moment they were through the Gate, 
and issued his mandates to those below 
with a precision and promptitude that 
were not surpassed by the trained con- 
ductor of the Coquette himself. But when 
his sight embraced the wide reach of water 
that lay in front, as his little vessel swept 
round the headland of Throgmorton, he 
believed there no longer existed a reason 
for so much care. Still there was a mo- 
tive for hesitation. A heavily - molded 
and duli-sailing coaster was going east- 
ward not a league ahead of the brigan- 
tine, while one of the light sloops of those 
waters was coming westward still farther 
in the distance. Notwithstanding the 
wind was favorable to each alike, both 
vessels had deviated from the direct line, 
and were steering toward a common cen- 
ter, near anisland that was placed more 
than a mile to the northward of the 
straight course. A mariner, like him of 
the Indian-shawl, could not overlook so 
obvious an intimation of a change in the 
channel. The Water-Wvich was kept 
away, and her lighter sails were lowered, 
in order to allow the royal cruiser, whose 
lofty canvas was plainly visible above the 
land, to draw near. When the Coquette 
was seen also to diverge, there no longer 
remained a doubt of the direction neces- 
sary to be taken; and everything was 
quickly set upon the brigantine, even to 
her studding-sails. Long ere she reached 
the island, the two coasters had met, and 
each again changed its course, reversing 
that on which the other had just been 
sailing, There was in these movements 
as plain an explanation as a seaman could 
desire that the pursued were right. On 
reaching the island, therefore, they again 
luffed into the wake of the schooner, and 
having nearly crossed the sheet of water, 
they passed the coaster, receiving an 
assurance, in words, that all was now 
plain sailing before them. 

Such was the famous passage of the 
Skimmer of the Seas through the multi- 
plied and hidden dangers of the eastern 
channel. ‘To those who have thus accom- 


panied him, step by step, through its in-. 


FENIMORE COOPER. 


tricacies and alarms, there may seem 
nothing extraordinary in the event; but, 
coupled as it was with the character pre- 
viously earned by that bold mariner, and 
occurring as it did in an age when men 
were more disposed than at present to put 
faith in the marvelous, the reader will 
hot be surprised to learn that it greatly 
increased his reputation for daring, and 
had no small influence on an opinion, 
which was by no means uncommon, that 
the dealers in contraband were singular- 
ly favored by a power which greatly 
exceeded that of Queen Anne and all her 
servants. 


———————E 


CHAPTER XXIX. 


‘Thou shalt see me at Philippi.’—SHAKESPEARE. 


THE commander of her Britannic Maj- 
esty’s ship Coquette slept that night in 
the hammock-cloths. Before the sun set, 
the light and swift brigantine, by follow- 
ing the gradual bend of the land, had dis- 
appeared in the eastern board ; and it was 
no longer a question of overtaking her by 
speed. Still sail was crowded on the royal 
cruiser; and long ere the period when 
Ludlow threw himself in his clothes be- 
tween the ridge-ropes of the quarter-deck, 
the vessel had gained the broadest part of 
the Sound, and was already approaching 
the islands that form the ‘‘ Race.”’ 

Throughout the whole of that long and 
anxious day, the young sailor had held 
no communication with the inmates of the 
cabin. The servants of the ship had 
passed to and fro; but though the door 
seldom opened that he did not bend his 
eyes feverishly in that direction, neither 
the Alderman, his niece, the captive, nor 
even Francois, or the negress, made their 
appearance on deck. If any there felt an 


interest in the result of the chase, it was — 


concealed in a profound and almost mys- 
terious silence. Determined not to be 
outdone in indifference, and goaded by 
feelings which with all his pride he could 
not overcome, our young seaman took 
possession of the place of rest we have 
mentioned without using any measures to 
resume the intercourse. 


ee ee ee eee ———— a 


THE WATER-WITOH. 


* When the first watch of the night was 
come, sail was shortened on the ship, and 
from that moment till the day dawned 
again her Captain seemed buried in sleep. 
With the appearance of the sun, how- 
ever, he arose, and commanded the can- 
vas to be spread once more, and every 
exertion made to drive the vessel forward 
to her object. 

The Coquette reached the Race early in 
the day, and shooting though the pas- 
sage on an ebb-tide, she was off Montauk 
at noon. No sooner had the ship drawn 
past the cape, and reached a point where 
she felt the breeze and the waves of the 
Atlantic, than men were sent aloft, and 
twenty eyes were curiously employed in ex- 
amuining the offing. Ludlow remembered 
the promise of the Skimmer to meet him 
at that spot; and notwithstanding the 
motives which the latter might be sup- 
posed to have for avoiding the interview, 
so great was the influence of the free- 
trader’s manner and character, that the 
young Captain entertained a secret ex- 
pectation the promise would be kept. 

“The offing is clear!’ said the young 
Captain, in a tone of disappointment, 
when he lowered his glass; ‘‘ yet that 
rover does not seem a man to hide his 
head in fear i? 

«‘ Wear—that is to say, fear of a French- 
man—and a decent respect for her Maj- 
esty’s cruisers, are very different sorts of 
things,’’ returned the master. ‘‘I never 
got a bandanna or a bottle of your Cognac 
ashore in my life that I did not think every 
man that I passed in the street could see 
the spots in the one, or scent the flavor of 
the other ; but then I never supposed this 
shyness amounted to more than a certain 
suspicion in my own mind that other peo- 
ple know when a man is running on an 
illegal course. I suppose that one of your 
rectors, who is snugly anchored for life in 
a good warm living, would call this con- 
science; but for my own part, Captain 
Ludlow, though no great logician in mat- 
ters of this sort, 1 have always believed 
that it was natural concern of mind lest 
the articles should be seized. If this 
Skimmer of the Seas comes out to give 


us another chase in rough water, he is by | 


681 


no means as good a judge of the differ- 
ence between a large and a small vessel 
as Lhad thought him—and I confess, sir, 
I should have more hopes of taking him 
were the woman under his bowsprit fairly 
burned.”’ 

‘‘The offing is clear.’’ 

“That it is, with a show of the wind 
holding here at south-half-south. The bit 
of water that we have passed, between 
yon island and the main, is lined with 
bays; and while we are looking out for 
them on the high seas, the cunning var- 
lets may be treading in any one of the 
fifty good basins that le between the 
cape and the place where we lost him. 
For aught we know, he may have run 
westward again in the night watches, 
and be at this moment laughing in his 
sleeve at the manner in which he dodged 
the cruiser.”’ 

‘There is too much truth in what you 
say, Trysail; for if the Skimmer be now 
disposed to avoid us, he has certainly the 
means in his power.”’ 

‘‘Sail ho!’’ cried the lookout on the 
main-topgallant-yard. 

«< Where away ?”’ 

‘Broad on the weather-beam, sir; here, 
in a range with the light cloud that is just 
lifting from the water.”’ 

‘*Can you make out the rig ? ”’ 

“?Hore George, the fellow is right!”’ 
interrupted the master. ‘‘The cloud 
caused her to be unseen, but here she is, 
sure enough—a full-rigged ship under easy 
canvas, with her head to the westward.”’ 

The look of Ludlow through the glass 
was long, attentive and grave. 

‘<¢We are weak-handed to deal with a 
stranger,’’ he said, when he returned the 
instrument to Trysail. ‘‘ You see he has 
nothing but his‘ topsails set—a show of 
canvas that would satisfy no trader in a 
breeze like this ! ’’ , 

The master was silent, but his look was 
even longer and more critical than that of 
his Captain. When it had ended, he cast 
a cautious glance toward the diminished 
crew, who were curiously regarding the 
vessel that had now become sufficiently 
distinct by a change in the position of the 
cloud, and then answered in an undertone. 


682 


<?Tis a Frenchman, or I am a whale! 
One may see it by his short yards and the 
hoist of his sails, aye, and ’tis a cruiser, 
too, for no man who had a profit to make 
on his freight would be lying there under 
short canvas and his port within a day’s 
rinse 

«Your opinion is my own; would to 
heaven our people were all here! This is 
but a short complement to take into action 
with a ship whose force seems equal to 
our own. What number can we count ?’”’ 

‘We are short of seventy—a small 
muster for four-and-twenty guns with 
yards like these to handle.”’ 

«¢ And yet the port may not be insulted ! 
We are known to be on this coast——”’ 

‘«¢We are seen !’’ interrupted the mas- 
ter. ‘The fellow has wore ship, and he 
is already setting his topgallant-sails.”’ 

There no longer remained any choice 
between downright flight and prepara- 
tions for combat. The former would have 
been easy, for an hour would have taken 
the ship within the cape; but the latter 
was far more in consonance with the 
spirit of the service to which the Coquette 
belonged. The order was given, there- 
fore, for ‘‘all hands to clear ship for 
action!’ It was in the reckless nature 
of sailors to exult in this summons; for 
success and audacity go hand in hand, 
and long familiarity with the first had, 
even at that early day, given a confidence 
that often approached temerity to the 
seamen of Great Britain and her depend- 
encies. The mandate to prepare for bat- 
tle was received by the feeble crew of the 
Coquette as it had often been received 
before when her decks were filled with the 
number necessary to give full efficiency to 
her armament; though a few of the older 
and more experienced mariners, men in 
whom confidence had been diminished by 
time, were seen to shake their heads, as 
if they doubted the prudence of the in- 
tended contest. 

Whatever might have been the secret 
hesitation of Ludlow when the character 
and force of his enemies were clearly 
established, he betrayed no signs of ir- 
resolution from the moment when his 
decision appeared to be taken. The nec- 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


essary orders were issued calmly and with 
the clearness and readiness that perhaps 
constitute the greatest merit of a naval 
captain. The yards were hung in chains ; 
the booms were sent down; the lofty sails 
were furled, and, in short, all the prepa- 
rations that were then customary were 
made with the usual promptitude and 
skill. Then the drum beat to quarters, 
and when the people were at their sta- 
tions, their young commander had a bet- 
ter opportunity of examining into the true 
efficiency of his ship. 

Calling to the master he ascended the 
poop, in order that they might confer to- 
gether with less risk of being overheard, 
and atthe same time better observe the 
maneuvers of the enemy. 

The stranger had, as Trysail perceived, 
suddenly wore round on his heel and laid 
his head to the northward. The change 
in the course brought him before the wind, 
and, as he immediately spread all the can- 
vas that would draw, he was approaching 
fast. During the time occupied in prepa- 
ration on board the Coquette, his hull had 
risen as it were from out of the water, and 
Ludlow and his companion had not studied 
his appearance long from the poop before 
the streak of white paint, dotted with 
ports, which marks a vessel of war, be- 
came visible to the naked eye. As the 
cruiser of Queen Anne continued also to 


steer in the direction of the chase, half an | 


hour more brought them sufficiently near 
to each other to remove all doubts of their 
respective characters and force. The 
stranger then came to the wind and 
made his preparations for combat. 

‘‘'The fellow shows a stout heart and a 
warm battery,’’ observed the master, 
when the broadside of the enemy became 
visible by this change in his position. Six- 
and-twenty teeth, by my count! though 
the eye-teeth must be wanting, or he 
would never be so foolhardy as to brave 
Queen Anne’s Coquette in this impudent 
fashion! A prettily turned boat, Captain 
Ludlow, and one nimble enough in her 
movements. But look at his topsails. 
Just like his character, sir, all hoist; and 
with little or no head to them. TI not 
deny but the hull is well enough, for that 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


683 


is no more than carpenter’s work; but|them at once—and, therefore, | am of 


when it comes to the rig, or trim, or cut 
of a sail, how should a L’Orient or a Brest 
man understand what is comely?, There 
is no equaling, after all, a good, whole- 
some, honest English topsail, which is 
neither too narrow in the head, nor too 
deep in the hoist, with a bolt-rope of ex- 
actly the true size, robands and earrings 
and bowlines that look as if they grew 
there, and sheets that neither nature nor 
art could alter to advantage. Here are 
these Americans, now, making innova- 
tions in ship-building, and in the sparring 
of vessels, as if anything could be gained 
by quitting the customs and opinions of 
their ancestors! Any man may see that 
all they have about them that is good for 
anything is English, while all their non- 
- sense and new-fangled changes come from 
their own vanity.’’ 

“They get along, Master Trysail, not- 
withstanding,’’ returned the Captain, 
who, though a sufficiently loyal subject, 
could not forget his birthplace; ‘“‘and 
many is the time this ship, one of the 
finest models of Plymouth, has been both- 
ered to overhaul the coasters of these 
seas. Here is the brigantine that has 
laughed at us on our best tack, and with 
our choice of wind.”’ 

“One cannot say where that brigantine 
was built, Captain Ludlow. It may be 
here, it may be there ; for I look upon her 
as a nondescript, as old Admiral Top used 
to call the galiots of the north seas; but, 
concerning these new American fashions, 
of what use are they, I would ask, Cap- 
tain Ludlow ? In the first place they are 
neither English nor French, which is as 
much as to confess they are altogether out- 
landish ; in the second place, they disturb 
the harmony and established usages among 
wrights and sailmakers, and, though they 
may get along well enough now, sooner 


or later, take my word for it, they will’ 


come to harm. It is unreasonable to sup- 
pose that a new people can discover any- 
thing in the construction of a ship that 
has escaped the wisdom of seamen as old 
—the Frenchman is clewing up his top- 
gallant-sails, and means to let them hang, 
which is much the same as condemning 


opinion that all these new fashions will 
come to no good.”’ 

“Your reasoning is absolutely conclu- 
sive, Master Trysail,’’ returned the Cap- 
tain, whose thoughts were differently 
employed. ‘I agree with you, it would 
be safer for the stranger to send down his 
yards.”’ 

‘There is something manly and becom- 
ing in seeing a ship strip herself as she 
comes into action, sir! Itis like a boxer 
taking off his jacket, with the intention of 
making a fair stand-up fight for it. The 
fellow is filling away again, and means to 
maneuver before he comes fairly to his 
work.”’ 

The eye of Ludlow had never quitted 
the stranger. He saw that the moment 
for serious action was not distant; and 
bidding Trysail keep the vessel on her 
course, he descended to the quarter-deck. 
For a single instant, the young comman- 
der paused, with his hand on the door of 
the cabin; then, overcoming his reluc- 
tance, he entered the apartment. 
~The Coquette was built after a fashion 
much in vogue a century since, and which, 
by a fickleness that influences marine ar- 
chitecture as well as less important things, 
is again coming into use for vessels of her 
force. The accommodations of the com- 
mander were on the same deck with the 
batteries of the ship, and they were fre- 
quently made to contain two or even four 
guns of the armament. When Ludlow 
entered his cabin, therefore, he found a 
crew stationed around the gun which was 
placed on the side next the enemy, and all 
the customary arrangements made which 
precede a combat. The staterooms abaft, 
however, as well as the little apartment 
which lay between them, were closed. 
Glancing his eye about him, and observ- 
ing the carpenters in readiness, he made a 
signal for them to knock away the bulk- 
heads, and lay the whole of the fighting 
part of the ship incommon. While this 
duty was going on, he entered the after- 
cabin. 

Admiral Van Beverout and his compan- 
ions were found together, and evidently 
in expectation of the visit they now 


684 


received. Passing coolly by the former, 
Ludlow approached his niece, and, taking 
her hand, he led her to the quarter-deck, 
making a sign for her female attendant to 
follow. Descending into the depths of the 
ship, the Captain conducted his charge 
into a part of the berth-deck that was 
below the water-line, and aS much re- 
moved from danger as she could well be 
without encountering a foul air, or sights 
that might be painful to one of her sex 
and habits. 

‘“‘Here is as much safety as a- vessel of 
war affords in a moment like this,’’ he 
said, when his companion was silently 
seated on a mess-chest. ‘‘On no account 
quit the spot, till l—or some other—advise 
you it may be done without hazard.”’ 

Alida had submitted to be led thither 
without a question. Though her color 
went and came, she saw the little dispo- 
sitions that were made for her comfort, 
and without which, even at that moment, 
the young sailor could not quit her, in the 
same silence. But when they were ended, 
and her conductor was about to retire, his 
name escaped her by an exclamation that 
seemed hurried and involuntary. 

‘Can I do aught else to quiet your ap- 
prehensions?’’ the young man inquired, 
though he studiously avoided her eye, as 
he turned to put the question. ‘‘I know 
your strength of mind, and that you have 
a resolution which exceeds the courage of 
your sex; else I would not venture so 
freely to point out the danger which may 
beset one, even here, without a self-com- 
mand and discretion that shall restrain 
all sudden impulses of fear.’? 

*‘ Notwithstanding your generous inter- 
pretation of my character, Ludlow, I am 
but a woman after all.’’ 

‘‘T did not mistake you for an Ama- 
zon,’’ returned the young man, smiling, 
perceiving that she checked her words by 
a sudden effort. ‘‘All I expect from you 
is the triumph of reason over female ter- 
ror. Ishall not conceal that the odds— 
perhaps | may say that the chances are 
against us; yet the enemy must pay for 
the ship ere he has her! She will be none 
the worst defended, Alida, from the con- 
sciousness that thy liberty and comfort de- 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


pend in some measure on our: exertions. 
Would you say more ?”’ 

Le belle Barberie struggled with herself, 
and she became calm, at least in exterior. 

‘“There has been a singular misconcep- 
tion between us, yet is this no moment 
for explanation ! Ludlow, I would not have 
you part with me, at such a time as this, 
with that cold and re proachful eye !”’ 

She paused. When the young man ven- 
tured to raise his look, he saw the beautiful 
girl standing with a hand extended tow- 
ard him, as if offering a pledge of amity ; 
while the crimson on her cheek, and her 
yielding but half-averted eye, spoke with 
the eloquence of maiden modesty. Seizing 
the hand, he answered, hastily— 

“Time was when this action would 
have made me happy——’’ 

The young man paused, for his gaze 
had unconsciously become riveted on the 
rings of the hand he held. Alida under- 
stood the look, and, drawing one of the 
jewels, she offered it with a smile that 
was as attractive as her beauty. | 

“One of these may be spared,’’ she 
said. ‘‘ Take it, Ludlow; and when thy 
present duty shall be performed, return 
it, as a gage that I have promised that 
no explanation which you have a right to 
ask shall be withheld.’’ 

The young man took the ring and 
forced it on the smallest of his fingers, 
in a mechanical manner, and with a be- 
wildered look that seemed to inquire if 
some one of those which remained was 
not the token of a plighted faith. It is 
probable that he might have continued 
the discourse, had not a gun been fired 
from the enemy. It recalled him to the 
more serious business of the hour. Al- 
ready more than half disposed to believe 
all he could wish, he raised the fair hand, 
which had just bestowed the boon, to his 
lips, and rushed upon the deck. 

‘The Monsieur is beginning to blus- 
ter,’ said Trysail, who had witnessed 
the descent of his commander, at that 
moment and on such an errand, with 
great dissatisfaction. ‘* Although his 
shot fell short, it is too much to let a 
Frenchman have the credit of the first 
word.”’ 


THE 


‘““He has merely given the weather 
gun, the signal of defiance. Let him 
come down, and he will not find us in 
a hurry to leave him!”’ 

“No, no; as for that, we are snug 
enough !’’ returned the master, chuck- 
ling as he surveyed the half-naked spars, 
and the light top hamper, to which he had 
himself reduced the ship. ‘‘If running is 
to be our play, we have made a false move 
at the beginning of the game. ‘These top- 
sails, spanker, and jib, make a show that 
says more for bottom than for speed. 
Well, come what will of this affair, it will 
leave me a master, though it is beyond 
the power of the best duke in England to 
rob me of my share of the honor !”’ 

With this consolation for his perfectly 
hopeless condition as respects promotion, 
the old seaman walked forward, examin- 
ing critically into the state of the vessel ; 
_while his young commander, having cast 
a look about him, motioned to his prisoner 
and the Alderman to follow to the poop. 

“7 do not pretend to inquire into the 
nature of the tie which unites you with 
some in this ship,’’ Ludlow commenced, 
addressing his words to Seadrift, though 
he kept his gaze on the recent gift of 
Alida; ‘‘but, that it must be strong, is 
evident by the interest they have taken 
in your fate. One who is thus esteemed 
should set a value on himself. How far 
you have trified with the laws, I do not 
wish to say; but here is an opportunity 
to redeem some of the public favor. You 
are a seaman, and need not be told that 
my ship is not as strongly manned as 
one could wish her at this moment, and 
that the services of every Englishman 
will be welcome. Take charge of these 
six guns, and depend on my honor that 

your devotion to the flag shall not go 
~ unrequited.”’ 

“You much mistake my vocation, noble 
Captain,’’ returned the dealer in contra- 
band, faintly laughing. ‘‘Though one of 
the seas, Iam one more used to the calm 
latitudes than to these whirlwinds of war. 
You have visited the brigantine of our 
mistress, and must have seen that her 
temple resembles that of Janus more 
than that of Mars. The deck of the 


WATEHR-WITCH. 


685 


Water-Witch has none of this frowning 
garniture of artillery.’’ . 

Ludlow listened in amazement. Sur- 
prise, incredulity, and scorn, were each 
in turn expressed in his frowning coun- 
tenance. 

“This is unbecoming language for one 
of your calling,’ he said, scarce deeming 
it necessary to conceal the contempt he 
felt. ‘‘Do you acknowledge fealty to this 
ensign—are you an Englishman ?”’ 

“Tam such as Heaven was pleased to 
make me—fitter for the zephyr than the 
gale—the jest than the war-shout—the 
merry moment than the angry mood.”’ 

‘‘Ts this the man whose name for dar- 
ing has passed into a proverb ?—the 
dauntless, reckless, skillful Skimmer of 
the Seas !’’ 

‘‘ North is not more removed from 
south than I am from him in the qualities 
you seek! It was not my duty to un- 
deceive you as to the value of your cap- 
tive, while he whose services are beyond 
price to our mistress was still on the 
coast. So far from being him you name, 
brave Captain, I claim to be no more 
than one of his agents, who having some 
experience in the caprices of women, he 
trusts to recommend his wares to female 
fancies. Though so useless in inflicting’ 
injuries, I may make bold, however, to 
rate myself as excellent at consolation. 
Suffer that I appease the fears of la belle 
Barberie during the coming tumult, and 
you shall own that one more skillful in 
that merciful office is rare.”’ . 

‘¢ Comfort whom, where, and what thou 
wilt, miserable effigy of manhood !—but 
hold, there is less of terror than of arti- 
fice in that lurking smile and treacherous 
eye!’ 

‘‘Discredit both, generous Captain ! 
On the faith of one who can be sincere 
at need, a wholesome fear is uppermost, 
whatever else the disobedient member may 
betray. I could fain weep rather than be 
thought valiant just now !”’ 

Ludlow listened in wonder. He had 
raised an arm to arrest the retreat of 
the young mariner, and by a natural 
movement his hand slid along the limb 
it had grasped, until it held that of Sea- 


686 WORKS 


drift. The instant he touched the soft 
and ungloved palm, an idea, as novel as 
it was sudden, crossed his brain. Retreat- 
ing a step or two, he examined the light 
and agile form of the other, from head to 
feet. The frown of displeasure, which had 
clouded his brow, now changed to a look 
of unfeigned surprise; and for the first 
time the tones of the voice came over his 
recollection as being softer and more melo- 
dious than is wont in man. 

“Truly, thou art not the Skimmer of 
the Seas !’’ he exclaimed, when his short 
examination was ended. 

‘“No truth more certain. J am one of 
little account in this rude encounter, 
though were that gallant seaman here,”’ 
and the color deepened on the cheeks of 
Seadrift as he spoke, ‘‘his arm and coun- 
sel might prove a host! Oh! I have seen 
him in scenes far more trying than this, 
when the elements have conspired with 
other dangers. The example of his steadi- 
ness and spirit has given courage even to 
the feeblest heart in the brigantine ! 
Now, let me to offer consolation to the 
timid Alida.’’ 

‘‘T should little merit her gratitude, 
were the request refused,’’ returned Lud- 
low. ‘‘Go, gay ard gallant Master Sea- 
drift ! if the enemy fears thy presence on 
the deck as little as I dread it with la 
belle Barberie, thy services here will be 
useless ! ” 

Seadrift colored to the temples, crossed 
his arms meekly on his bosom, sank in an 
attitude of leave-taking that was so equiv- 
ocalas to cause the attentive and criti- 
cal young Captain to smile, and then 
glided past him and disappeared through 
a hatch-way. 

The eye of Ludlow followed the active 
and graceful form, while it continued in 
sight; and when it was no longer visible, 
he faced the Alderman, with a look which 
seemed to inquire how far he might be ac- 
quainted with the true character of the 
individual who had been the cause of so 
much pain to himself. 

** Have I done well, sir, in permitting a 
subject of Queen Anne to quit us at this 
emergency?’’ he demanded, observing 
that either the phlegm or the self-com- 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


mand of Myndert rendered him proof to 
scrutiny. 

‘<The lad may be termed contraband of 
war,’ returned the Alderman, without 
moving a muscle; ‘‘an article that will 
command a better price in a quiet than in 
a turbulent market. In short, Captain 
Cornelius Ludlow, this Master Seadrift 
will not answer thy purpose at all in 
combat.”’ 

“‘ And is this example of heroism to go 
any farther, or may I count on the assist- 
ance of Mr. Alderman Van Beverout? He 
has the reputation of a loyal citizen.’’ 

‘‘ As for loyalty,’’ returned the Alder- 
man, ‘‘so far as saying ‘God bless the 
Queen,’ at city feasts, will go, none are 
more so. A wish is not an expensive 
return for the ‘protection of her fleets 
and armies, and I wish her and you suc- 
cess against the enemy, with all my 
heart. But I never admired the man- 
ner in which the States-General were 
dispossessed of their possessions on this 
continent, Master Ludlow, and therefore 
I pay the Stuarts little more than I owe 
them in law.’’ 

‘Which is as much as to say, that you 
will join the gay smuggler in administer- 
ing consolation to one whose spirit places 
her above the need of such succor.”’ 

‘“Not so fast, young gentleman. We 
mercantile men like to see offsets in our 
books, before they are balanced. What- 
ever may be my opinion of the reigning 
family, which I only utter to you in confi- 
dence, and not as coin that is to pass from 
hand to hand, my love for the Grand 
Monarque is still less. Louis is at log- 
gerheads with the United Provinces, as 
well as with our gracious Queen ; and I see 
no harm in opposing one of his cruisers, 
since they certainly annoy trade, and ren- 
der returns for investments inconveniently 
uncertain. I have heard artillery in my 
time, having in my younger days led a 
band of city volunteers in many a march 
and countermarch around the Bowlhng 
Green; and for the honor of the Second 
Ward of the good town of Manhattan, I 
am now ready to undertake to show that 
all knowledge of the art has not entirely 
departed from me.”’ 


THE WATER-WITCH. 687 


«‘That is a manly answer, and, provided sufficient reason for entering heart and 


it be sustained by a corresponding coun-] hand into this 


tenance, there shall be no impertinent in- 
quiry into motives. ’Tis the officer that 
makes the ship victorious; for, when he 
sets a good example and understands his 
duty, there is little fear of the men. 
Choose your position among any of these 
guns, and we will make an effort to dis- 
appoint yon servants of Louis, whether 
we do it as Englishmen, or only as the 
allies of the Seven Provinces.”’ 

Myndert descended to the quarter-deck, 
and having deliberately deposited his coat 
on the capstan, replaced his wig by a 
handkerchief, and tightened the buckle 
that did the office of suspenders, he 
squinted along the guns, with a certain 
air that served to assure the spectators he 
had at least no dread of the recoil. 

Alderman Van Beverout was a person- 
age far too important not to be known by 
most of those who frequented the goodly 
town of which he was a civic officer. His 
presence, therefore, among the men, not 
a few of whom were natives of the colony, 
had a salutary effect; some yielding to 
the sympathy which is natural to a hearty 
and encouraging example, while it is pos- 
sible there were a few that argued less of 
danger, in consequence of the indifference 
of a man who, being so rich, had so many 
motives to take good care of his person. 
Be this as it might, the burgher was re- 
ceived by a cheer which drew a short but 
pithy address from him, in which he ex- 
horted his companions in arms to do their 
duty, in a manner which should teach the 
Frenchmen the wisdom of leaving that 
coast in future free from annoyance ; 
while he wisely abstained from all the 
commonplace allusions to king and 
country—a subject to which he felt his 
inability to do proper justice. 

<‘Let every man remember that cause 
for courage, which may be most agreeable 
to his own habits and opinions,’’ con- 
cluded this imitator of the Hannibals and 
Scipios of old: “‘for that is the surest 
and the briefest method of bringing his 
mind into an obstinate state. In my own 
case, there is no want of motive; and I 
dare say each one of you may find some 


battle. Protests and 
credit ! what would become of the affairs 
of the best house in the colonies were its 
principal to be led a captive to Brest or 
L’Orient ? It might derange the business of 
the whole city. I'll not offend your patriot- 
ism with such a supposition, but at once 
believe that your minds are resolved, like 
my own, to resist to the last; for this is 
an interest which is general, as all ques- 
tions of a commercial nature become 
through their influence on the happiness 
and prosperity of society.”’ 

Having terminated his address in so 
apposite and public-spirited a manner, the 
worthy burgher hemmed loudly, and re- 
sumed his accustomed silence, perfectly 
assured of his own applause. If the mat- 
ter of Myndert’s discourse wears too 
much the air of an undivided attention to 
his own interests, the reader will not 
forget it is by this concentration of in- 
dividuality that most of the mercantile 
prosperity of the world is achieved. 

The seamen listened with admiration, 
for they understood no part of the appeal, 
and, next to a statement which shall be 
so lucid as to induce every hearer to 
believe it is no more than a happy ex- 
planation of his own ideas, that which is © 
unintelligible is apt to unite most suffrages 
in its favor. 

“You see your enemy, and you know 
your work!’’ said the clear voice of Lud- 
low, who, as he passed among the people 
of the Coquette, spoke to them in that 
steady, unwavering tone which, in mo- 
ments of danger, goes to the heart. ‘I 
shall not pretend that we are as strong as 
I could wish; but the greater the necessity 
for a strong pull, the readier a true sea- 
man will be to give it. There are no nails 
in that ensign. When I am dead, you 
may pull it down if you please; but so 
long as I live, my men, there it shall fly ! 
And now, one cheer to show your humor, 
and let the rest of your noise come from 
the guns.”’ 

The crew complied, with a full-mouthed 
and hearty hurrah! Trysail assured a 
young, laughing, careless midshipman, 
who even at that moment could enjoy an. 


688 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


uproar, that he had seldom heard a pret- | in question, and sent to the Indies to gain 


tier piece of sea-eloquence than that which 
had just fallen from the Captain ; it being 
both ‘‘neat and gentleman-like.”’ 


CHAPTER XXX. 


“Sir, itis 
A charge too heavy for my strength; but yet 
We'll strive to bear it for your worthy sake, 
To the extreme edge of hazard.”’ 
—ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL. 


THE vessel, which appeared so inoppor- 
tunely for the safety of the ill-manned 
British cruiser, was, in truth, a ship that 
had roved from among the islands of the 
Caribbean Sea in quest of some such ad- 
venture as that which now presented 
itself. 

She was called La Belle Fontange, and 
her commander, a youth of two-and- 
twenty, was already well-known in the 
salons of the Marais and behind the walls 
of the Rue Basse des Remparts as one of 
the most gay and amiable of those who 
frequented the former, and one of the 
most spirited and skillful among the ad- 
venturers who sometimes trusted to their 
address in the latter. Rank and influence 
at Versailles had procured for the young 
Chevalier Dumont de la Rocheforte a 
command to which he could lay no claim 
either by his experience or his services. 
His mother, a near relative of one of the 
beauties of the court, had been com- 
manded to use sea-bathing as a preventive 
against the consequences of the bite of a 
rabid lapdog. 

By way of a suitable episode to the long 
description she was in the daily habit of 
writing to those whose knowledge of her 
new element was limited to the constant 
view of a few ponds and ditches teeming 
with carp, or an occasional glimpse of 
some of the turbid reaches of the Seine, 
she had vowed to devote her youngest 
child to Neptune! In due time, that is to 
say, while the poetic sentiment was at the 
access, the young chevalier was duly en- 
rolled, and, ina time that greatly antici- 
pated all regular and judicious preferment, 
he was placed in command of the corvette 


glory for himself and his country. 

The Chevalier Dumont de la Rocheforte 
was brave, but his courage was not the 
calm and silent self-possession of a sea- 
man. Like himself, it was lively, buoy- 
ant, thoughtless, bustling, and full of 
animal feeling. He had all the pride of a 
gentleman, and unfortunately for the duty 
which he had now for the first time to 
perform, one of its dictates taught him to 
despise that species of mechanical knowl- 
edge which it was, just at this moment, so 
important to the commander of La Fon-- 
tange to possess. He could dance to ad- 
miration, did the honors of his cabin with 
faultless elegance,. and had caused the 
death of an excellent mariner, who had 
accidently fallen overboard, by jumping 
into the sea to save him, without knowing 
how to swim a stroke himself—a rashness — 
that had diverted those exertions which 
might have saved the unfortunate sailor 
from the assistance of the subordinate to 
the safety of his superior. He wrote son- 
nets prettily, and had some ideas of the 
new philosophy which was just then begin- 
ning to dawn upon the world; but the 
cordage of his ship, and the lines of a 
mathematical problem, equally presented 
labyrinths he had never threaded. 

It was perhaps fortunate for the safety 
of all in her, that La Belle Fontange pos- 
sessed an inferior officer, in the person of a 
native of Boulogne-sur-Mer, who was quite 
competent to see that she kept the proper 
course, and that she displayed none of the 
topgallants of her pride at unpropitious 
moments. The ship itself was sufficiently 
and finely molded, of a light and airyrig, 
and of established reputation for speed. 
If it was defective in anything, it had the 
fault, in common with its commander, of 
a want of sufficient solidity to resist the 
vicissitudes and dangers of the turbulent 
element on which it was destined to act. 

The vessels were now within a mile of 
each other. The breeze was steady, and 
sufficiently fresh for all the evolutions of a 
naval combat, while the water was just 
quiet enough to permit the ships to be 
handled with confidence and accuracy. 
La Fontange was running with her head 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


to the eastward, and, as she had the ad- 
vantage of the wind, her tall tracery of 
spars leaned gently in the direction of her 
adversary. The Coquette was standing 
on the other track, and necessarily in- 
clined from her enemy. Both vessels 
were stripped to their topsails, spankers, 
and jibs, though the lofty sails of the 
Frenchman were fluttering in the breeze, 
like the graceful folds of some fanciful 
drapery. No human being was distinctly 
visible in either fabric, though dark clus- 
ters around each masthead showed that 
the ready topmen were prepared to dis- 
charge their duties, even in the confusion 
and dangers of the impending contest. 
Once or twice La Fontange inclined her 
head more in the direction of her adver- 
sary; then, sweeping again up to the 
wind, she stood on in stately beauty. The 
moment was near when the ships were 
about to cross each other, at a point 
where a musket would readily send its 
message across the water that lay be- 
tween them. Ludlow, who closely watched 
each change of position, and every rise 
and fall of the breeze, went on the poop, 
and swept the horizon with his glass for 
the last time before his ship should be en- 
veloped in smoke. To his surprise, he dis- 
covered a pyramid of canvas rising above 
the sea, in the direction of the wind. The 
sail was clearly visible to the naked eye, 
and had only escaped earlier observation 
in the duties of sourgent amoment. Call- 
ing the master to his side, he inquired his 
opinion concerning the character of the 
second stranger. But Trysail confessed 
it exceeded even his long-tried powers of 
observation, to say more than that it was 
a ship running before the wind, with a 
cloud of sail spread. After a second and 
a longer look, however, the experienced 
master ventured to add that the stranger 
had the squareness and symmetry of a 
cruiser, but of what size he would not yet 
presume to declare. 

“It may be a light ship under her top- 
- gallant and studding-sails, or it may be 
that we see only the lofty duck of some 
heavier vessel. Captain Ludlow—ha! he 
has caught the eye of the Frenchman, for 
the corvette has signals abroad !”’ 


689 


“‘To your glass! If the stranger an- 
Swer, we have no choice but our speed.”’ 

There was another keen and anxious 
examination of the upper spars of the dis- 
tant ship, but the direction of the wind 
prevented any signs of her communicating 
with the corvette from being visible. La 
Fontange appeared equally uncertain of 
the character of the stranger, and for a 
moment there was some evidence of an 
intention to change her course. But the 
moment for indecision had passed. The 
ships were already sweeping up abreast 
of each other under the constant pressure _ 
of the breeze. 

“‘Be ready, men!’’ said Ludlow, in a 
low but firm voice, retaining his elevated 
position on the poop, while he motioned to 
his companion to return to the main-deck. 
‘Wire at his flash! ’’ 

Intense expectation succeeded. The two 
graceful fabrics sailed steadily on, and 
came within hail.~ So profound was the 
stillness in the Coquette, that the rushing 
sound of the water she heaped under her 
bows was distinctly audible to all on 
board, and might be likened to the deep 
breathing of some vast animal that was 
collecting its physical energies for some 
unusual exertion. On the other hand, 
tongues were loud and clamorous among 
the cordage of La Fontange. Just as the 
ships were fairly abeam the voice of young 
Dumont. was heard shouting through a 
trumpet for his men to fire. Ludlow smiled 
in a seaman’s scorn. Raising his own 
trumpet, with a quiet gesture to his atten- 
tive and ready crew, the whole discharge 
of their artillery broke out of the dark side 
of the ship as if it had been by the volition 
of the fabric. The answering broadside 
was received almost as soon as their own 
had been given, and the two vessels passed 
swiftly without the line of shot. | 

The wind had sent back their own 
smoke upon the English, and for a time it 
floated on their decks, wreathed itself in 
the eddies of the sails, and passed away 
to leeward, with the breeze that succeeded 
to the counter-current of the explosion. 
The whistling of shot and the crash of 
wood had been heard amid the din of the 
combat. Giving a glance at his enemy, 


12? 


690 


who still stood on, Ludlow leaned from 
the poop, and, with a sailor’s anxiety, he 
endeavored to scan the gear aloft. 

«What is gone, sir ?”’? he asked of Try- 
sail, whose earnest face just then became 
visible through the drifting smoke. 
«What sail is so heavily flapping ? ”’ 

‘Tittle harm done, sir—little harm— 
bear a hand with the tackle on that fore- 
yardarm, you lubbers! you move like 
snails ina minuet! The fellow has shot 
away the lee-fore-topsail sheet, sir; but 
we shall soon get our wings spread again. 
Lash it down, boys, as if it were butt- 
bolted—so ; steady out your bowline for- 
ward. Meet her, you can ; meet her, you 
may—meet her ! ”’ 

The smoke had disappeared, and the 
eye of the Captain rapidly scanned the 
whole of his ship. Three or four topmen 
had already caught the flapping canvas, 
and were seated on the extremity of the 
fore-yard, busied in securing their prize. 
A hole or two was visible in the other 
sails, and here and there an unimportant 
rope was dangling in a manner to show 
that it had been cut by shot. Farther 
than this, the damage aloft was not of a 
nature to attract his attention. 

There was a different scene on deck. 
The feeble crew were earnestly occupied 
in loading the guns, and rammers and 
sponges were handled with all the in- 
tenseness which men would manifest in a 
moment so exciting. The Alderman was 
never more absorbed in his ledger than he 
now appeared in his duty of a cannoneer ; 
and the youths, to whom the command of 
the batteries had necessarily been confid- 
ed, diligently aided him with their greater 
authority and experience. Trysail stood 
near the capstan, coolly giving the orders 
which have been related, and gazing up- 
ward with ar interest so absorbed as to 
render him unconscious of all that passed 
around his person. Ludlow saw with 
pain that blood discolored the deck at his 
feet, and that a seaman lay dead within 
reach of his arm. The rent plank and 
shattered ceiling showed the spot where 
the destructive missile had entered. 

Compressing his lips like a man re- 
solved, the commander of the Coquette 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


bent farther forward, and glanced at the 
wheel. The quartermastsr, who held the 
spokes, was erect, steady, and kept his 
eye on the leach of the head-sail as uner- 
ringly as the needle points to the pole. 

These were the observations of a single 
minute. The different circumstances re- 
lated had been ascertained with so many 
rapid glances of the eye, and they had 
even been noted without losing for a mo- 
ment the knowledge of the precise situ- 
ation of La Fontange. The latter was 
already in stays. It became necessary. to 
meet the evolution by another as prompt. 

The order was no sooner given than the 
Coquette, as if conscious of the hazard she 
ran of being raked, whirled away from 
the wind, and, by the time her adversary 
was ready to deliver her other broadside, 
she was in a position to return it. Again 
the ships approached each other, and once 
more they exchanged their streams of 
fire when abeam. 

Ludlow now saw, through the smoke, the 
ponderous yard of La Fontange swinging 
against the breeze, and the main-topsail 
come flapping against her mast. Swing- 
ing off from the poop by a backstay that 
had been shot away a moment before, he 
alighted on the quarter-deck by the side 
of the master. 

‘‘ Touch all the braces {”’ he said lustily, 
but still speaking low and cleariy; ‘‘ give 
a drag upon the bowlines—iuff, sir, luff, 
jam the ship up hard against the wind ! ’’ 

The clear steady answer of the quarter- 


master and the manner in which the 


Coquette, still vomiting her sheets of 
flame, inclined toward the breeze, an- 
nounced the promptitude of the subordi- 
nates. In another minute, the vast volumes 
of smoke which enveloped the two ships 
joined, and formed one white and troubled 
cloud, which was rolling swiftly before the 
explosions, over the surface of the sea, but 
which, as it rose higher in the air, sailed 
gracefully to the leeward. 

Our young commander passed swiftly 
through the batteries, spoke encourag- 
ingly to his people, and resumed his post 
on the poop. The stationary position of 
La Fontange, and his own efforts to get 


to windward, were already proving advan- 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


tageous to Queen Anne’s cruiser. There 
was some indecision on the part of the 
other ship, which instantly caught the eye 
of one whose readiness in his profession so 
much resembled instinct. 

The Chevalier Dumont had amused his 
leisure by running his eyes over the 
records of the naval history of his coun- 
try, where he had found this and that 
commander applauded for throwing their 
topsails to the mast, abreast of their ene- 
mies. Ignorant of the difference between 
a ship in line and one engaged singly, he 
had determined to show himself equal to 
a similar display of spirit. At the mo- 
ment when Ludlow was standing alone on 
the poop, watching with vigilant eyes the 
progress of his own vessel, and the posi- 
tion of his enemy, indicating merely by a 
look or a gesture, to the attentive Trysail 
beneath, what he wished done, there was 
actually a wordy discussion on the quarter- 
deck of the latter, between the mariner 
of Boulogne-sur-Mer and the gay favorite 
of the salons. They debated on the ex- 
pediency of the step which the latter had 
taken to prove the existence of a quality 
that no one doubted. The time lost in 
this difference of opinion was of the last 
importance to the British cruiser. Stand- 
ing gallantly on, she was soon out of the 
range of her adversary’s fire ; and, before 
Boulognois had succeeded in convincing 
his superior of his error, their antagonist 
was on the other tack, and luffing across 
the wake of La Fontagne. The topsail 
was then tardily filled, but before the lat- 
ter ship had recovered her motion, the 
sails of her enemy overshadowed her 
deck. There was now every prospect of 
the Coquette passing to the windward. 
At that critical moment, the fairsetting 
topsail of the British cruiser was nearly 
rent intwobya shot. -The ship fell off, the 
yards interlocked and the vessels were foul. 

The Coquette had all the advantage of 
position. Perceiving the important fact 
at a glance, Ludlow made sure of its con- 
tinuance by throwing grapnels. When 
the two ships were thus firmly lashed to- 
gether, the young Dumont found himself 
relieved from a mountain of embarrass- 
ment. Sufficiently justified by the fact 


691 


that not a single gun of his own would 
bear, while a murderous discharge of 
grape had just swept along his decks, he 
issued the order to board. But Ludlow 
with his weakened crew had not decided 
on so hazardous an evolution as that 
which brought him in absolute contact 
with his enemy without foreseeing the 
means of avoiding all the consequences. 

The vessels touched each other only at 
one point, and this spot was protected by 
a row of muskets. No sooner, therefore, 
did the impetuous young Frenchman ap- 
pear on the taffrail of his own ship, 
supported by a band of followers, than a 
close and deadly fire swept them away to 
aman. Young Dumont alone remained. 
For a single moment his eye glared wild- 
ly ; but the active frame, still obedient to ° 
the governing impulse of so impetuous a 
spirit, leaped onward. He fell, without 
life, on the deck of his enemy. 

Ludlow watched every movement, with 
a calmness that neither personal responsi- 
bility, nor the uproar and rapid incidents 
of the terrible scene could discompose. 

** Now is our time to bring the matter 
hand to hand!’’ he cried, making a ges- 
ture to Trysail to descend from the lad- 
der, in order that he might pass. 

His arm was arrested, and the grave 
old master pointed to windward. 

<«There is no mistaking the cut of those 
sails, or the lofty rise of the spars. The 
stranger is another Frenchman! ’’ 

One glance told Ludlow that his sub- 
ordinate was right; another sufficed to 
show what was necessary. 

‘Cast loose the forward grapnel—cut 
it—away with it, clear!’’ was shouted, 
through his trumpet, in a voice that rose 
commanding and clear amid the roar of 
the combat. 

Released forward, the stern of the Co- 
quette yielded to the pressure of her 
enemy, whose sails were all drawing, and 
she was soon in a position to enable her 
head-yards to be braced sharp aback, in 
a direction opposite to the one in which 
she had so lately lain. The whole broad- 
side was then delivered into the stern of 
La Fontange, the last grapnel was re- 
leased, and the ships separated. 


692 


The single spirit which presided over the 
evolutions and exertions of the Coquette 
still governed her movements. The sails 
were trimmed, the ship was got in com- 
mand, and, before the vessels had been 
asunder five minutes, the duty of the ves- 
sel was in its ordinary active but noise- 
less train. 

Nimble topmen were on the yards, and 
broad folds of fresh canvas were flapping 
in the breeze, as the new sails were bent 
and set. Ropes were spliced, or supplied 
by new rigging, the spars examined, and, 
in fine, all that watchfulness and sedulous 
care were observed which are necessary to 
the efficiency and safety of a ship. Every 
spar was secured, the pumps were sounded, 
and the vessel held on her way, as steady 
as if she had never fired or received a shot. 

On the other hand, La Fontange be- 
trayed the indecision and confusion of a 
worsted ship. Her torn canvas was blow- 
ing about in disorder, many important 
ropes beat against her masts unheeded, 
and the vessel itself drove before the 
breeze in the helplessness of a wreck. 
For several minutes there seemed no con- 
trolling mind in the fabric; and when, 
after so much distance was lost as to give 
her enemy all the advantage of the wind, 
a tardy attempt was made to bring the 
ship up again, the tallest and most im- 
portant of her masts was seen tottering, 
until it finally fell, with all its hamper, 
into the sea. 

Notwithstanding the absence of so many 
of his people, success would now have been 
certain had not the presence of the stran- 
ger compelled Ludlow to abandon. his 
advantage. But the consequences to his 
own vessel were too sure to allow of more 
than a natural and manly regret that so 
favorable an occasion should escape him. 
The character of the stranger could no 
longer be mistaken. The eye of every 
Seaman in the Coquette as well under- 
stood the country of the high and narrow- 
headed sails, the tall taper masts, and 
short yards of the frigate whose hull was 
now distinctly visible, as a landsman re- 
cognizes an individual by the distinguish- 
ing marks of his features or attire. Had 
there been any lingering doubts on the 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. ‘ 


subject, they would have-all given place 
to certainty when the stranger was seen 
exchanging signals with the crippled cor- 
vette. 

It was now time for Ludlow to come to 
a Speedy determination on his future 
course. The breeze still held to the south- 
ward, but it was beginning to lessen, with 
every appearance that it would fail before 
nightfall. 

The land lay a few leagues to the north- 
ward, and the whole horizon of the ocean, 
with the exception of the two French 
cruisers, was clear, Descending to the 
quarter-deck, he approached the master, 
who was seated in a chair while the sur- 


' geon dressed a severe hurt in one of his 


legs. Shaking the sturdy veteran cor- 
dially by the hand, he expressed his 
acknowledgments for his support in a 
moment so trying. . 

“God bless you! Captain Ludlow,” 
returned the old sailor, dashing his hand 
equivocally across his weather- beaten 
brow. ‘‘ Battle is certainly the place to 
try both ship and friends; and Heaven 
be praised! Queen Anne has not failed of 
either this day. Ne man has forgotten 
his duty, so far as my eyes have wit- 
nessed; and this is saying no trifle, with 
half a crew and an equal enemy. As for 
the ship, she never behaved better | I had 
my misgivings when I saw the new main- 
topsail go, which it did, as all here know 
like a bit of rent muslin between the fin 
gers of a seamstress. Run forward, Mr. 
Hopper, and tell the men in the fore rig- 
ging to take another drag on that swifter 
and to be careful and bring the strain 
equal on all the shrouds. <A lively youth, 
Captain Ludlow, and one who only wants 
a little reflection, with some moré experi- 
ence, and a small dash of modesty, to- 
gether with the seamanship he will natur- 
ally get in time, to make a very tolerable 
officer.’’ 

‘“The boy promises well; but I have 
come to ask thy advice, my old friend, 
concerning our next movements. There 
is no doubt that the fellow who is coming 
down upon us is both a Frenchman and a 
frigate.”’ 

‘*A man might as well doubt the nature 


_ wind lasts. 


THE WATHR-WITCH. 


of a fish-hawk, which is to pick up all the 
small fry and to let the big ones go. We 
might show him our canvas and try the 
open sea, but I fear that foremast is too 
weak with three such holes in it to bear 
the sail we shall need ! ”’ , 

“What think you of the wind ?”’ said 
Ludlow, affecting an indecision he did not 
feel, in order to soothe the feelings of his 
wounded companion. ‘‘Should it hold, 
we might double Montauk, and return 
for the rest of our people; but should it 
fail, is there no danger that the frigate 
should tow within shot! We have no 
boats to escape her.”’ 

‘«“The soundings on this coast are as 
regular as the roof of an out-house,’’ said 
the master, after a moment of thought. 
«« And it is my advice, if it is your pleasure 
to ask it, Captain Ludlow, that we shoal 
our water as much as possible while the 
Then I think we shall be safe 
from a very near visit from the big one. 
As for the corvette, Iam of opinion that, 
like aman who has eaten his dinner, she 
has no stomach for another slice.’’ 

Ludlow applauded the advice of his 
subordinate, for it was precisely what he 
had determined on doing ; and after again 
complimenting him on his coolness and 
skill, he issued the necessary orders. The 
helm of the Coquette was now placed hard 
a-weather, the yards were squared, and 
the ship was put before the wind. After 
running in this direction for a few hours, 
the wind gradually lessening, the lead an- 
nounced that the keel was quite as near 


the bottom as the time of the tide and the 


dull heaving and setting of the element 
rendered at all prudent. The breeze soon 
after fell, and our young commander 
ordered an anchor to be dropped into the 
sea. 

His example in the latter respect was 
imitated by the hostile cruisers. They 
had joined, and boats were seen passing 
from one to the other so long as there was 
light. When the sun fell behind the 
western margin of the ocean their dusky 
outlines, distant about a league, gradu- 
ally grew less and less distinct, until the 
darkness of night enveloped sea and land 
in its gloom. 


693 


CHAPTER XXXI. 
‘‘ Now; the business !’’—OTHELLO, 


THREE hours later, and every voice was 
hushed on board the royal cruiser. The 
toil of repairing damages had ceased ; and 
most of the living, with the dead, lay 
alike in common silence. The watchful- 
ness necessary to the situation of the 
fatigued mariners, however, was not for- 
gotten; and though so many slept, a few 
eyes were still open, affecting to be alert. 
Here and there some drowsy seaman 
paced the deck or a solitary young offi- 
cer endeavored to keep himself awake by 
humming a low air in his narrow bounds. 
The mass of the crew slept heavily with 
pistols in their belts and cutlasses at their 
sides, between the guns. There was one 
figure extended upon the quarter-deck, 
with the head resting on a shot-box. The 
deep breathing of this person denoted the 
unquiet slumbers of a powerful frame, in 
which weariness contended with suffering. 
It was the wounded and feverish master, 
who had placed himself in that position to 
catch an hour of repose that was neces- 
sary to his situation. On an arm-chest 
which had been emptied of its contents 
lay another but a motionless human form, 
with the limbs composed in decent order, 
and with the face turned toward the mel- 
ancholy stars. This was the body of 
young Dumont, which had been kept 
with the intention of consigning it to 
consecrated earth when the ship should 
return to port. Ludlow, with the deli- 
cacy of a generous and chivalrous ene- 
my, had with his own hands spread the 
stainless ensign of his country over the 
remains of the inexperienced but gallant 
young Frenchman. 

There was one little group on the raised 
deck in the stern of the vessel, in which 
the ordinary interests of life still seemed 
to exercise their influence. Hither Lud- 
tow had led Alida and her companions, 
after the duties of the day were over, in 
order that they might breathe an air 
fresher than that of the interior of the 
vessel. The negress nodded near her 
young mistress; the tired Alderman sat 


694 WORKS 
with his back supported against the miz- 
zen-mast, giving audible evidence of his 
situation; and Ludlow stood erect, oc- 
casionally throwing an earnest look on the 
surrounding and unruffled waters, then 
lending his attention to the discourse of 
his companions. Alida and Seadrift were 
seated near each other, on chairs. The 
conversation was low, while the melan- 
choly and the tremor in the voice of la 
belle Barberie denoted how much the 
events of the day had shaken her usually 
firm and spirited mind. 

«There is a mingling of the terrific and 
the beautiful, of the grand and the seduc- 
ing, in this unquiet profession of yours !”’ 
observed, or rather continued, Alida, re- 
plying to a previous remark of the young 
sailor. ‘‘ That tranquil sea—the hollow 
sound of the surf on the shore—and this 
soft canopy above us, form objects on 
which even a girl might dwell in admira- 
tion, were not her ears still ringing with 
the roars and cries of the combat. Did 
you say the commander of the Frenchman 
was but a youth? ”’ 

“A mere boy in appearance, and one 
who doubtless owed his rank to the ad- 
vantages of birth and family. We know 
it to be the captain by his dress, no less 
than by the desperate effort he made to 
recover the false step taken in the earlier 
part of the action.’’ 

‘*Perhaps he has a mother, Ludlow !— 
a sister—a wife—or i 

Alida paused, for with maiden diffidence 
she hesitated to pronounce the tie which 
was uppermost in her thoughts. 

‘‘He may have had one or all! 
are the sailor’s hazards, and S$ 

**Such the hazards of those who feel an 
interest in their safety !’’ uttered the low 
but expressive voice of Seadrift. 

An eloquent silence succeeded. Then 
the voice of Myndert was heard mutter- 
ing distinctly, “Twenty of beaver, and 
three of marten—as per invoice.”’ 

The smile which, spite of the train of his 
thoughts, rose on the lips of Ludlow, had 
scarcely passed away, when the hoarse 
tones of Trysail, rendered still hoarser by 
his sleep, were plainly heard in a stifled 
cry, saying, ‘‘ Beara hand there with your 


Such 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


stoppers! The Frenchman is coming 
round upon us again.”’ 
“That is prophetic !’’ said one, aloud, 
behind the listening group. Ludlow turned, 
quick as the flag fluttering on its vane, and 
through the darkness he recognized, in the 
motionless but manly form that stood be- 
fore him on the poop, the fine person of 
the Skimmer of the Seas. 

“Call away “a 

‘Call none !’’ interrupted Tiller, stop- 
ping the hurried order which involuntarily 
broke from the lips of Ludlow. ‘‘ Let thy 
ship feign the silence of a wreck, but, in 
truth, let there be watchfulness and prepa- 
ration even to her storeroom! You have 
done well, Captain Ludlow, to be on the 
alert, though [ have known sharper eyes 
than those of some of your lookouts.”’ 

‘*Whence come you, audacious man, 
and what mad errand has brought you 
again to the deck of my ship !”’ 


«‘T come from my habitation on the sea. 


My business here is warning !”’ 


“The sea!’? echoed Ludlow, gazing 


about him at the narrow and empty view. 
“‘The hour for mockery is past, and you 
would do well to trifle no more with those 
who have serious duties to discharge.”’ 

“The hour is indeed one for serious 
duties—duties more serious than any you 
apprehend. But before I enter on ex- 
planation, there must be conditions be- 
tween us. You have one of the sea-green 
lady’s servitors here; I claim his liberty 
for my secret.’’ . 

‘<The error into which I had fallen exists 
no longer,’’ returned Ludlow, looking for 
an instant toward the shrinking form of 
Seadrift. “‘My conquest is worthless, 
unless you come to supply his place.’’ 

‘‘T come for other purposes—here is one 
who knows I do not trifle when urgent 
affairs are on hand. Let thy companions 
retire, that I may speak openly.”’ 

Ludlow hesitated, for he had not yet re- 
covered from the surprise of finding the 
redoubtable freetrader so unexpectedly on 
the deck of his ship. But Alida and her 
companion arose like those who had more 
confidence in their visitor, and, arousing 
the negress from her sleep, they descended 
the ladder and entered the cabin. When 


é 
‘ 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


Ludlow found himself alone with Tiller he 
demanded an explanation. 

“Tt shall not be withheld, for time 
presses, and that which is to be done must 

e done with a seaman’s care and cool- 

ess,’’ returned the other. ‘“‘ You have had 
_aclose brush on one of Louis’ rovers, Cap- 
tain Ludlow, and prettily was the ship of 
Queen Anne handled! Have your people 
suffered, and are you still strong enough 
to make good a defense worthy of your 
conduct this morning ?”’ 

«‘These are facts you would have me 
utter to the ear of one who may be false— 
even a spy !”’ 

“Captain Ludlow—but circumstances 
warrant thy suspicions ? ”’ 

‘«*Qne whose vessel and life I have 
threatened—an outlaw !”’ 

<¢ This is too true,’’ returned the Skim- 
mer of the Seas, suppressing the sudden 
impulse of pride and resentment. I am 
threatened and pursued—I am asmuggler 
and an outlaw ; still am I human! You 
see that dusky object which borders the 
sea to the northward ? ”’ 

‘Tt is too plainly land to be mistaken.”’ 

‘‘Tand, and the land of my birth! the 
earliest, perhaps I may say the happiest, 
of my days were passed on that long and 
narrow island.”’ 

‘¢Had I known it earlier, there would 
have been a closer look among its bays 
and inlets.”’ / 

<¢ The search might have been rewarded. 
A cannon would easily throw its shot from 
this deck to the spot where my brigantine 
now lies, snug at a single anchor.” 

‘Unless you have swept her near since 
the setting of the sun, that is impossible ! 
When the night drew on, nothing was in 
view but the frigate and corvette of the 
enemy.”’ 

‘We have not stirred a fathom; yet 
true as the word of a fearless man, there 
lies the vessel of the sea-green lady. You 
see the place where the beach falls—here, 
at the nearest point of the land—the island 
is nearly severed by the water at that spot, 
and the Water-Witch is safe in the depths 
of the bay which enters from the north- 
ward. There is not a mile between us. 


From the eastern hill I witnessed your 


695 


spirit this day, Captain Ludlow, and 
though condemned in person, I felt that 
the heart could never be outlawed. There 
is a fealty here that can survive even the 
persecutions of the custom-houses.”? —* 

‘““You are happy in your terms, sir. I 
will not conceal that I think a seaman, 
even as skillful as yourself, must allow 
that the Coquette was kept prettily in 
command.’’ 

‘*No pilot-boat could have been more 
sure or more lively. I knew your weak- 
ness, for the absence of all your boats was 
no secret to me; and I confess I could 
have spared some of the profits of the 
voyage to have been on your decks this 
day with a dozen of my truest fellows !”’ 

‘A man who can feel this loyalty to 
the flag should find a more honorable 
occupation for his usual life.’’ 

«* A country that can inspire it should 
be cautious not to estrange the affections 
of its children by monopolies and injustice. 
But these are discussions unsuited to the 
moment. [am doubly your countryman 
in this strait, and all the past is no more 
than the rough liberties which friends 
take with each other. Captain Ludlow, 
there is danger brooding in that dark 
void which lies to seaward ! ’’ 

‘‘On what authority do you speak 
thus ? ”’ 

“Sight. I have been among your ene- 
mies and seen their deadly preparations. 
I know the caution is given to a brave 
man, and nothing shall be extenuated. 
You have need of all your resolution 
and of every arm—for they will be upon 
you in overwhelming numbers !’’ 

‘‘True or false, thy warning shall not 
be neglected.”’ 

‘‘Hold!’’ said the Skimmer, arresting 
a forward movement of his companion 
with his hand. ‘‘ Let them sleep to the 
last moment. You have yet an hour, 
and rest will renew their strength. You 
may trust the experience of a seaman 
who has passed half of the life of man on 
the ocean, and who has witnessed all its 
most stirring scenes, from the conflict of 
the elements to every variety of strife 
that man has invented to destroy his 
fellows. For another hour you will be 


696— WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


secure. After that hour God _ protect 
the unprepared! and God be merciful 
to him whose minutes are numbered !’’ 

«Thy language and manner are those 
of one who deals honestly,’’ returned Lud- 
low, struck by the apparent sincerity of 
the freetrader’s communication. ‘‘ In 
every event we shall be ready, though 
the manner of your having gained this 
knowledge is as great a mystery as your 
having appeared on the deck of my ship.’ 

‘Both can be explained,’’ returned the 
Skimmer, motioning to his companion to 
follow to the taffraii. Here he pointed to 
a small and nearly imperceptible skiff, 
which floated at the bottom of a stern- 
ladder, and continued—‘‘ One who so often 
pays secret visits to the land can never be 
in want of the means. This nut-shell was 
easily transported across the narrow strip 
of land that separates the bay from the 
ocean; and though the surf moans so 
hoarsely, it is easily passed by a steady 
and dexterous oarsman. I have been un- 
der the martingale of the Frenchman, and 
you see that lam here. If your lookouts 
are less alert than usual, you will remem- 
ber that a low gunwale, a dusky side, and 
a muffled oar are not readily detected 
when the eye is heavy and the body 
wearied. I must now quit you—unless 
you think it more prudent to send those 
who can be of no service out of the ship 
before the trial shall come ? ” 

Ludlow hesitated. A strong desire to 
put Alida in a place of safety was met by 
his distrust of the smuggiler’s faith. He 
reflected a moment ere he answered: 
~ “Your cockle-shell is not sufficiently 
secure for more than its owner. Go, and 
as you prove loyal, may you prosper ! ”’ 

** Abide the blow !’’ said the Skimmer, 
grasping his hand. He then stepped care- 
lessly on the dangling ropes, and descended 
into the boat beneath. Ludlow watched 
his movements with an intense and possi- 
bly with a distrustful curiosity. 

When seated at the sculls, the person of 
the freetrader was nearly indistinct ; and 
as the boat glided noiselessly away, the 
young commander no longer felt disposed 
to censure those who had permitted its 
approach without a warning. In. less 


than a minute the dusky object was con- 
founded with the surface of the sea. 

Left to himself, the young commander 
of the Coquette seriously reflected on what 
had passed. The manner of the Skimmer, 
the voluntary character of his communica- 
tion, its probability, and the means by 
which his knowledge had been obtained, 
united to confirm his truth. Instances of 
similar attachment to their flag, in sea- 
men whose ordinary pursuits were op- 
posed to its interests, were not uncommon. 
Their misdeeds resemble the errors of 
passion and temptation, while the mo- 
mentary return to better things is the 
inextinguishable impulse of nature. 

The admonition of the freetrader, who 
had enjoined the Captain to allow his peo- 
ple to sleep, was remembered. Twenty 
times, within as many minutes, did our 
young sailor examine his watch to note 
the tardy passage of the time; as often 
did he return it to his pocket with a de- 
termination to forbear. At length he 
descended to the quarter-deck, and drew 
near the only form that was erect. The 
watch was commanded by a youth of six- 
teen, whose regular period of probationary 
service had not passed, but who, in the 
absence of his superiors, was intrusted 
with this delicate and important duty. 
He stood leaning against the capstan, one 
hand supporting his cheek, while the elbow 
reSted against the drum, and the body 
was without motion. Ludlow regarded 
him a moment; then, lifting a lighted 
battle-lantern to his face, he saw that he 
slept. Without disturbing the delinquent, 
the Captain replaced the lantern and 
passed forward. In the gangway there 
stood a marine, with his musket should- 
ered, in an attitude of attention. As Lud- 
low brushed within a few inches of his 


eyes, if was easy to be seen that they 


opened and shut involuntarily, and with- 
out consciousness of what lay before them. 
On the top-gallant forecastle was a short, 
square and well-balanced figure, that 
stood without support of any kind, with 
both arms thrust into the bosom of a 
jacket, and a head that turned slowly to 
the west and south, as if it were examin- 
ing the ocean in those directions. 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


Stepping lightly up the ladder, Ludlow 
saw that it was the veteran seaman who 
was rated as the captain of the forecastle. 
¥ «T am glad, at last, to find one pair of 
eyes open in my ship,’’ said the Captain. 
“Of the whole watch, you alone are 
alert.’’ 

*“T have doubled cape fifty, your honor, 
and the seaman who has made that voy- 
age rarely wants the second call of the 
boatswain. Young heads have young 
eyes, and sleep is next to food, after a 
heavy drag at gun-tackles and lanyards.”’ 

“What draws your attention so steadily 
in that quarter? There is nothing visible 
but the haze of the sea.’’ 

«°Tis the direction of the Frenchman, 
sir—does your honor hear nothing ?’’ 

** Nothing,”’ said Ludlow, after intently 
listening for half a minute. <‘‘ Nothing, 
unless it be the wash of the surf on the 
beach.’’ 

*‘It may be only fancy, but there came 
a sound like the fall of an oar-blade on a 
thwart, and ’tis but natural, your honor, 
to expect the Mounsheer will be out, in 
this smooth water, to see what has be- 
come of us. There went the flash of a 
light, or my name is not Bob Cleet!’’ 

Ludlow was silent. A light was cer- 
tainly visible in the quarter where the 
enemy was known to be anchored, and it 
came and disappeared like a moving lan- 
tern. At length it was seen to descend 
slowly, and vanish-as if it were extin- 
guished in the water. 

“That lantern went into a boat, Cap- 
tain Ludlow, though a lubber carried it! ’’ 
said the positive old forecastle-man, shak- 
ing his head, and beginning to pace across 
the deck with the air of a man who 
needed no further confirmation of his 
suspicions. 

Ludlow returned toward the quarter- 
deck, thoughtful but calm. “He passed 
among his sleeping crew without awaking 
aman, even forbearing to touch the still 
motionless midshipman, and he entered his 
cabin without speaking. 

The commander of the Coquette was 
absent but a few minutes. When he 

again appeared on deck, there was more 
of decision and preparation in his manner. 


697 


“°Tis time to call the watch, Mr. Reef,’ 
he whispered at the elbow of the drowsy 
officer of the deck, without betraying his 
consciousness of the youth’s forgetfulness 
of duty. ‘The glass is out.” 

‘* Aye, aye, sir. Beara hand, and turn 
the glass!’’ muttered the young man. 
‘‘A fine night, sir, and a very smooth 
water. I was just thinking of ee 

‘‘Home and thy mother! ’Tis the way 
with us all in youth. Well, we have now 
something else to occupy the thoughts. 
Muster all the gentlemen here, on the 
quarter-deck, sir.’’ 

When the half-sleeping midshipman 
quitted his Captain to obey this order, the 
latter drew near the spot where Trysail 
still lay in an unquiet sleep. A. light 
touch of a single finger was sufficient to 
raise the master on his feet. The first 
look of the veteran tar was aloft, the 
second at the heavens, the last at his 
Captain. 

‘‘J fear thy wound stiffens, and that 
the night air has added to the pain ? ”? ob- 
served the latter, speaking in a kind and 
considerate tone. 

‘The wounded spar cannot be trusted 
like a sound stick, Captain Ludlow; but 
as I am no foot-soldier on a march, the 
duty of the ship may go on without my 
calling for a horse.”’ 

‘J rejoice in thy cheerful spirit, my old 
friend, for here is serious work likely to 
fall upon our hands. The Frenchmen are 
in their boats, and we shall shortly be 
brought to close quarters, or prognostics 
are false.’’ 

‘‘Boats!’? repeated the master. ‘I - 
had rather it were under our canvas 
with a stiff breeze! The play of this 
ship is a lively foot and a touching 
leach; but, when it comes to boats, a 
marine is nearly as good a man as a 
quartermaster ! ”’ 

‘“We must take fortune as it offers. 
Here is our council! It is composed of 
young heads, but of hearts that might do 
credit to gray hairs.’’ 

Ludlow joined the little group of officers 
that was by this time assembled near the 
capstan. Here, in a few words, he ex- 
plained the reason why he had summoned 


698 WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


them from their sleep. When each of the 
youths understood his orders, and the 
nature of the new danger that threat- 
ened the ship, they separated, and began 
to enter with activity, but in guarded si- 
lence, on the necessary preparations. The 
sound of footsteps awoke a dozen of the 
older seamen, who immediately joined their 
officers. 

Half an hour passed like a moment in 
such an occupation. At the end of that 
time Ludlow deemed his ship ready. The 
two forward guns had been run in, and the 
shot having been drawn, their places were 
supplied with double charges of grape and 
canister. Several swivels, a species of 
armament much used in that age, were 
loaded to the muzzle, and placed in situa- 
tions to rake the deck, while the foretop 
was plentifully stored with arms and am- 
munition. The matches were prepared, 
and the whole of the crew was mustered 
by a particular call of each man. Five 
minutes sufficed to issue the necessary 
orders, and to see each post occupied. 
After this the low hum ceased in the 
ship, and the silence again became so 
deep and general that the wash of the 
receding surf was nearly as audible as 
the plunge of the wave on the sands. 

Ludlow stood on the forecastle, accom- 
panied by his master. Here he lent all 
his senses to the appearance of the ele- 
ments, and to the signs of the moment. 
Wind there was none, though occasionally 
a breath of hot air came from the land, 
like the first efforts of the night breeze. 
The heavens were clouded, though a few 
thoughtful stars glimmered between the 
masses of vapor. 

‘“‘“A calmer night never shut in the 
Americas!’ said the veteran Trysail, 
shaking his head doubtingly, and speaking 
ina cautious tone. ‘I am one of those, 
Captain Ludlow, who think more than 
half the virtue is out of a ship when her 
anchor is down !’’ 

‘“With a weakened crew it may be 
better for us that the people have no 
yards to handle, nor any bowlines to 
steady. All our care can be given to 
defense.’ 

‘This is much like telling the hawk he 


can fight the better with clipped wing, 
since he has not the trouble of flying! The 
nature of a ship is motion, and the merit 
of a seaman is judicious and lively hand* 
ling; but of what use is complaining, 
since it will neither lift an anchor nor fill 
a sail? What is your opinion, Captain 
Ludlow, concerning an after-life, and all 
of those matters one occasionally hears of 
if he happens to drift in the way of a 
church ? ”’ 

‘“‘The question is broad as the ocean, 
my good friend, and a fitting answer 
might lead us into abstrusities deeper 
than any in our trigonometry. Was that 
the stroke of an oar? ”’ 

<°Twas a land noise. Well, I am no 
great navigator among the channels of 
religion. 
bar, or a shoal, that obliges me to tack 
and stand off again, else 1 might have 
been a bishop, for anything the world 
knows to the contrary. ’Tis a gloomy 
night, Captain Ludlow, and one that is 
sparing of its stars. I never knew luck 
come of an expedition on which a natural 
light did not fall !’’ 

“So much the worse for those who seek 


to harm us. I surely heard an oar in the ~ 


rowlock ! ’’ 

‘Tt came from the shore and had the 
sound of the land about it,’’ quietly re- 
turned the master, who still kept his eye 
riveted on the heavens. ‘‘ This world in 
which we live, Captain Ludlow, is one of 
extraordinary uses; but that to which we 
are steering is still more unaccountable. 
They say that worlds are sailing above us 
like ships in a clear sea; and there are 
people who believe that, when we take our 
departure from this planet, we are only 
bound to another, in which we are to be 
rated according to our own deeds here, 
which is much the same as being drafted 
for a new ship with a certificate of service 
in one’s pocket.”’ 

*«The resemblance is perfect,’’ returned 
the other, leaning far over the timber-head 
to catch the smallest sound that might 
come from the ocean. “That was no 
more than the blowing of a porpoise! ”’ 

“It was strong enough for the puff of 
a whale. There is no scarcity of big’ fish 


Every new argument is asand- 


| 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


699 


on the coast of this island, and bold har- | again on the forecastle, across which he . 


pooners are the men who are scattered 
about on the sandy downs, here-away, to 
the northward. I once sailed with an offi- 
cer who knew the name of every star in 
the heavens, and often have I passed hours 
in listening to his history of their magni- 
tude and character, during the middle 
watches. It was his opinion that there is 
but one navigator for all the rovers of the 
air, whether meteors, comets, or planets.’’ 

*“No doubt he must be right, having 
been there.”’ 

‘No, that is more than I can say for 
him, though few men have gone deeper 
into the high latitudes on both sides of our 
own equator than he. One surely spoke 
—here, ina line with yonder low star! ”’ 

«“Was it not a water-fowl ?”’ 

«“No gull—ha! here we have the object 
just within the starboard jib-boom-guy. 
- There comes the Frenchman in his pride, 
and ’twill be lucky for him who lives 
to count the slain, or te boast of his 
deeds !”’ 

The master descended from the fore- 
castle, and passed among the crew, with 
every thought recalled from its excursive 
flight to the duty of the moment. Lud- 
low continued on the forecastle alone. 
There was a low, whispering sound in the 
ship, like that which is made by the mur- 
muring of a rising breeze—then all was 
still as death. 

The Coquette lay with her head to sea- 
ward, the stern necessarily pointing to- 
ward the land. The distance from the 
latter was less than a mile, and the direc- 
tion of the ship’s hull was caused by the 
course of the heavy ground-swell, which 
incessantly rolled the water on the wide 
beach of the island. The head-gear lay 
in the way of the dim view; and Ludlow 
walked out on the bowsprit, in order that 
nothing should lie between him and the 
part of the ocean he wished to study. 
Here he had not stood a minute when he 
caught, first a confused and then a more 
distinct glimpse of a line of dark objects, 
advancing slowly toward the ship. <As- 
sured of the position of his enemy, he 
returned in-board and descended among 
his people. In another moment he was 


paced leisurely, and, to all appearance, 
with the calmness of one who enjoyed the 
refreshing coolness of the night. 

At the distance of a hundred fathoms, 
the dusky line of boats paused and began 
to change its order. At that instant the 
first puffs of the land-breeze were felt, 
and the stern of the ship made a gentile 
inclination seaward. 

‘‘Help her with the mizzen! Let fall 
the topsail !’? whispered the young Cap- 
tain to those beneath him. EKre another 
moment the flap of the loosened sail was 
heard. The ship swung still farther, and 
Ludlow stamped on the deck. 

A round fiery light shot beyond the 
martingale, and the smoke rolled along 
the sea, outstripped by a crowd of missiles 
that were hissing across the water. A 
shout, in which command was mingled 
with shrieks, followed, and oar-blades were 
heard dashing the water aside regardless 
of concealment. The ocean lighted, and 
three or four boat-guns returned the fatal 
discharge from the ship. Ludlow had not 
spoken. Still alone on his elevated and 
exposed post, he watched the effects of 
both fires with a commander’s coolness. 
The smile that struggled about his com- 
pressed mouth, when the momentary con- 
fusion among the boats betrayed the 
success of his own attack, had been wild 
and exulting; but when he heard the rend- 
ing of the plank beneath him, the heavy 
groans that succeeded, and the rattling of 
lighter objects that were scattered by the 
shot as it passed with lessened force along 
the deck of his ship, it became fierce and 
resentful. 

‘‘ Let them have it!’’ he shouted, in a 
clear, animating voice, that assured the 
people of his presence and his care. ‘“‘Show 
them the humor of an Englishman’s sleep, 
my lads! Speak to them, tops and decks!” 

The order was obeyed. The remaining 
bow-gun was fired, and the discharge of 
all the Coquette’s musketry and blunder- 
busses followed. A crowd of boats came 
sweeping under the bowsprit of the ship 
at the same moment, when there arose the 
clamor and shouts of the boarders. 

The succeeding minutes were full of con- 


700 


fusion, and of devoted exertion. Twice 
were the head and bowsprit of the ship 
filled with dark groups of men, whose 
grim visages were only visible by the pis- 
tol’s flash; as often were they cleared by 
the pike and bayonet. A third effort was 
more successful, and the tread of the as- 
sailants was heard on the deck of the fore- 
castle. Thestruggle was but momentary, 
though many fell, and the narrow arena 
was soon slippery with blood. The Bou- 
lognese mariner was foremost among his 
countrymen, and at that desperate emer- 
gency Ludlow and Trysail fought in the 
common herd. Numbers prevailed; and 
it was fortunate for the commander of the 
Coquette, that the sudden recoil of a 
human body that fell upon him, drove him 
from his footing to the deck beneath. 

Recovering from the fall, the young 
Captain cheered his men by his voice, and 
was answered by the deep-mouthed shouts 
which an excited seaman is ever ready to 
deliver, even to the death. 

“Rally in the gangways, and defy 
them !’? was the animated cry. ‘“‘ Rally 
in the gangways, hearts of oak,’’ was re- 
turned by Trysail, in a ready but weak- 
ened voice. The men obeyed, and Ludlow 
saw that he could still muster a force ca- 
pable of resistance. 

Both parties for a moment paused. 
The fire of the top annoyed the boarders, 
and the defendants hesitated to advance. 
But the rush from both was common, and 
a fierce encounter occurred at the foot of 
the foremast. The crowd thickened in 
the rear of the French, and one of their 
number no sooner fell than another filled 
his place. The English receded, and Lud- 
low, extricating himself from the mass, 
retired to the quarter-deck. 

““Give way, men!’ he again shouted, 
so clear and steady, as to be heard above 
the cries and execrations of the fight. 
‘Into the wings; down—between the 
guns—down—to your covers! ”’ 

The English disappeared, as if by magic. 
Some leaped upon the ridge-ropes, others 
sought the protection of the guns, and 
many went through the hatches. At 
that moment Ludlow made his desperate 
effort. Aided by the gunner, he applied 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


matches to the two swivels, which had 
been placed in readiness for a last resort. 
The deck was enveloped in smoke, and, 
when the vapor lifted, the forward part 
of the ship was as clear as if man had 
never trodden it. All who had not fallen, 
had vanished. 

A shout, and a loud hurrah, brought 
back the defendants, and Ludlow headed 
a charge upon the topgallant-forecastle, 
again, in person. <A few of the assailants 
showed themselves from behind covers on 
the deck, and the struggle was renewed. 
Glaring balls of fire sailed over the heads 
of the combatants, and fell among the 
throng in the rear. Ludlow saw the dan- 
ger, and he endeavored to urge his people 
on to regain the bow-guns, one of which 
was known to be loaded. But the explo- 
sion of a grenade on deck, and in his rear, 
was followed by a shock in the hold, that 
threatened to force the bottom out of the 
vessel. The alarmed and weakened crew 
began to waver; and as a fresh attack of 
grenades was followed by a fierce rally, in 
which the assailants brought up fifty men 
in a body from their boats, Ludlow found 
himself compelled to retire amid the re- 
treating mass of his own crew. | 

The defense now assumed the character 
of hopeless but desperate resistance. The 
cries of the enemy were more and more 
clamorous ; and they succeeded in nearly 
silencing the top, by a heavy fire of mus- 
ketry established on the bowsprit and 
spritsail-yard. 

Events passed much faster than they 
can be related. The enemy were in pos- 
session of all the forward part of the ship 
to her fore-hatches, but into these young 
Hopper had thrown himself, with half a 
dozen men, and, aided by a brother mid- 
shipman in the launch, backed by a few 
followers, they still held the assailants at 
bay. Ludlow cast an eye behind him, and 
began to think of selling his life as dearly 
as possible in the cabins. That glance 
was arrested by the sight of the malign 
smile of the sea-green lady, as the gleam- 
ing face rose above the taffrail. A dozen 
dark forms leaped upon the poop, and 
then arose a voice that sent every tone it 
uttered to his heart. 


THE WATER-WITCH. 701 


«« Abide the shock! ’’ was the shout of 
those who came to the succor; and 
«Abide the shock!’’ was echoed by the 
crew. The mysterious image glided along 
the deck, and Ludlow knew the athletic 
frame that brushed through the throng 
at its side. ! 

There was little noise at the onset, save 
the groans of the sufferers. It endured 
but a moment, but it was a moment that 
resembled the passage of a whirlwind. 
The defendants knew that they were suc- 
cored, and the assailants recoiled before 
so unexpected a foe. The few that were 
caught beneath the forecastle were merci- 
lessly slain, and those above were swept 
from their post like chaff drifting in a 
gale. The living and the dead were heard 
falling alike into the sea, and in an incon- 
ceivably short space of time the decks of 
the Coquette were free. A solitary enemy 
still hesitated on the bowsprit. A power- 
ful and active frame leaped along the spar, 
and though the blow was not seen, its 
- effects were visible, as the victim tumbled 
helplessly into the ocean. 

The hurried dash of oars followed, and 
before the defendants had time to assure 
themselves of the completeness of their 
success, the gloomy void of the surround- 
ing ocean had swallowed up the boats. 


CHAPTER XXXII. 


“That face of his I do remember well; 
Yet, when I saw it last, it was besmeared 
As black as Vulcan, in the smoke of war.”’ 
—TWELFTH NIGHT 
a 


From the moment when the Coquette 
fired her first gun, to the moment when 
the retiring boats became invisible, was 
just twenty minutes. Of this time, less 
than half had been occupied by the inci- 
dents related in the ship. Short as it was 
in truth, it seemed to all engaged but an 
instant. The alarm was over, the sound 
of the oars had ceased, and still the sur- 
vivors stood at their posts, as if expecting 
the attack to be renewed. Then came 
those personal thoughts, which had been 
suspended in the fearful exigency of such 
a struggle. The wounded began to feel 


their pain, and to be sensible of the dan- 
ger of their injuries; while the few, who 
had escaped unhurt, turned a friendly 
care on their shipmates. Ludlow, as 
often happens with the bravest and most 
exposed, had escaped without a scratch ; 
but he saw by the drooping forms around 
him, which were no longer sustained by 
the excitement of battle, that his triumph 
was dearly purchased. 

‘‘Send Mr. Trysail to me,’’ he said, in a 
tone that had little of a victor’s exulta- 
tion. ‘‘ The land-breeze has made, and we 
will endeavor to improve it, and get inside 
the cape, lest the morning light give us 
more of these Frenchmen.’’ 

The order for “‘Mr. Trysail!’? ‘The 
Captain calls the master!’’ passed in a 
low call from mouth to mouth, but it was 
unanswered. A seaman told the expect- 
ing young commander that the surgeon 
desired his presence forward. A gleam- 
ing of lights and a little group at the foot 
of the foremast was a beacon not to be 
mistaken. The weather-beaten master 
was in agony; and his medical attendant 
had just risen from a fruitless examina- 
tion of his wounds, as Ludlow approached. 

*‘T hope the hurt is not serious? ’’ hur- 
riedly whispered the alarmed young sailor 
to the surgeon, who was coolly collecting 
his implements in order to administer to 
some more promising subject. ‘‘ Neglect 
nothing that your art can suggest.”’ 

‘«“The case is desperate, Captain Lud- 
low,’’ returned the phlegmatic surgeon ; 
‘‘pbut if you have a taste for such things, 
there is as beautiful a case for amputation 
promised in the fore-topman whom I have 
had sent below, as offers once in a whole 
life of active practice !”’ 

“Go, go,’? interrupted Ludlow, half 
pushing the unmoved man of blood away, 
as he spoke; ‘‘ go, then, where your ser- 
vices are needed.”’ 

The other cast a glance around him, 
reproved his attendant, in a sharp tone, 
for unnecessarily exposing the blade of 
some ferocious-looking instrument to the 
dew, and departed. 

“Would to God that some portion of 
these injuries had befallen those who are 
younger and stronger !’? murmured the 


702 WORKS 
Captain, as he leaned over the dying mas- 
ter. “Can Idoaught to relieve thy mind, 
my old and worthy shipmate ? ”’ 

‘‘T have had my misgivings since we 
have dealt with witchcraft !’’ returned 
Trysail, whose voice the rattling of the 
throat had already nearly silenced; ‘I 
have had misgivings—but no matter. 
Take care of the ship—I have been think- 
ing of our people—you’ll have to cut— 
they can never lift the anchor—the wind 
is here at north.”’ 

‘© All this is ordered. Trouble thyself 
no further about the vessel; she shall be 
taken care of, I promise you. Speak of 
thy wife and of thy wishes in England.”’ 

‘¢God bless Mrs. Trysail! She’ll get a 
pension, and I hope contentment! You 
must give the reef a good berth, in round- 
ing Montauk—and you’ll naturally wish 
to find the anchors again when the coast 
is clear—if you can find it in your con- 
science, say a good word of poor old Ben 
Trysail, in the dispatches——’’ 

The voice of the master sank to a whis- 
per, and became inaudible. Ludlow 
thought he strove to speak again, and 
he bent his ear to his mouth. 

‘‘T say—the weather-main-swifter and 
both backstays are gone; look to the 
spars for—for—there are sometimes— 
heavy puffs at night—in the Americas.”’ 

The last heavy respiration succeeded, 
after which came the long silence of death. 
The body was removed to the poop, and 
Ludlow, with a saddened heart, turned to 
duties that this accident rendered still 
more imperative. 

Notwithstanding the heavy loss, and 
the originally weakened state of her crew, 
the sails of the Coquette were soon spread, 
and the ship sailed away in silence, as if 
sorrowing for those who had fallen at her 
anchorage. When the vessel was fairly 
in motion, her Captain ascended to the 
poop in order to command a clearer view 
of all around him, as well as to profit by 
the situation to arrange his plans for the 
future. He found he had been anticipated 
by the freetrader. 

‘“‘T owe my ship—I may say my life 
since in such a conflict they would have 
gone together, to thy succor!’’ said the 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


young commander, as he approached the 
motionless form of the smuggler. ‘‘ With- 
out it, Queen Anne would have lost a 
cruiser, and the flag of England a portion 
of its well-earned glory.”’ 

‘‘May thy royal mistress prove as ready 
to remember her friends in emergencies as 
mine. In good truth there was little time 
to lose, and trust me, we well understood 
the extremity. If we were tardy, it was 
because whale boats were to be brought 
from a distance ; for the land lies between 
my brigantine and the sea.”’ 

‘‘He who came so opportunely, and 
acted so well, needs no apology.”’ 

‘Captain Ludlow, are we friends ? ” 

‘‘It cannot be otherwise. All minor 
considerations must be lost in such a ser- 
vice. If it is your intention to push this 
illegal trade farther on the coast, | must 
seek another station.’’ 

‘‘Not so. Remain, and do credit to 
your fiag, and the land of your birth. I 
have long thought this is the last time the 
keel of the Water-Witch will ever plow 
the American seas. Before I quit you, I 
would have an interview with the mer- 
chant. A worse man might have fallen, 
and just now a better might be spared. I 
hope no harm has come to him ? ” 

‘‘He has shown the steadiness of his 
Holland lineage to-day. During the board- 
ing he was useful and cool.”’ 

“Ttis well. Let the Alderman be sum- 
moned to the deck, for my time is limited, 
and I have much to say——’’ 

The Skimmer paused, for at that mo- 
ment a fierce light glared upon the ocean, 
the ship, and all in it. The two seamen 
gazed at each other in silence, and recoiled, 
as men recede before an unexpected and 
fearful attack. Buta bright and waver- 
ing light, which rose out of the forward — 
hatch of the vessel, explained all. At the 
same moment, the deep stillness which, 
since the bustle of making sail had ceased, 
pervaded the ship, was broken by the 
appalling cry of ‘‘ Fire!”’ 

The alarm which brings the blood in the 
swiftest current to a seaman’s heart was 
now heard in the depths of the vessel. The 
smothered sounds below, the advancing — 
uproar, and the rush on deck, with the — 


“was drawn in distinct lines. 


THE WATER-WITCH. 703 


awful summons in the open air, succeeded |! 


each other with the rapidity of lightning. 
A dozen voices repeated the word, ‘‘The 
grenade!’ proclaiming in a breath both 
the danger and the cause. But an instant 
before, the swelling canvas, the dusky 
spars, and the faint lines of the cordage, 
were only to be traced by the glimmering 
light of the stars; now the whole hamper 
of the ship was the more conspicuous from 
the obscure background against which it 
The sight 
was fearfuly beautiful; beautiful, for it 
showed the symmetry and fine outiines of 
the vessel’s rig, resembling the effect of a 
group of statuary seen by torchlight— 
fearful, since the dark void beyond 
seemed to declare their isolated and 
helpless state. 

There was one breathless, eloquent 
moment, in which all were seen gazing at 
the grand spectacle in mute awe—then a 
voice rose, clear, distinct, and command- 
ing, above the sullen sound of the torrent 
of fire, which was roaring among the 
avenues of the ship. 

‘Call all hands to extinguish the fire ! 
Gentlemen, to your stations. Be cool, 
men; and be silent ! ”’ 

There was a calmness and an authority 
in the tones of the young commander that 
curbed the impetuous feelings of the start- 
led crew. Accustomed to obedience, and 
trained to order, each man woke out of 
his trance and eagerly commenced the 
discharge of his allotted duty. At that 
instant an erect and unmoved form stood 
on the coamings of the main-hatch. A 
hand was raised in the air, and the call 
which came from the deep chest was 
like that of one used to speak in the 
tempest. 

«“ Where are my brigantines?”’ it said ; 
“‘come away there, my sea-dogs ; wet the 
light sails and follow! ’’ 

A group of grave and submissive mari- 
ners gathered about the Skimmer of the 
Seas, at the sound of his voice. Glancing 
an eye over them, as if to scan their 
quality and number, he smiled with a look 
in which high daring and practiced self- 
command were blended with a constitu- 
tional gaite de cceur. 


‘One deck or two! ’’ he added; “‘ what 
avails a plank more or less, in an explo- 
sion? Follow!” 

The freetrader and his people disap- 
peared in the interior of the ship, An in- 
terval of great‘and resolute exertion suc- 
ceeded. Blankets, sails, and everything 
which offered, and which promised to be 
of use, were wetted and cast upon the 
flames. The engine was brought to bear 
and the ship was deluged with water. 
But the confined space, with the heat and 
smoke, rendered it impossible to penetrate 
to those parts of the vessel where the con- 
flagration raged. The ardor of the men 
abated as hope lessened ; and after half an 
hour of fruitless exertion, Ludlow saw 
with pain that hisassistants began to yield 
to the inextinguishable principle of nature. 
The appearance of the Skimmer on deck, 
followed by all his people, destroyed hope, 
and every effort ceased as suddenly as it 
had commenced. | 

«Think of your wounded,” whispered 
the freetrader, with a steadiness no dan- 
ger could disturb. ‘‘ We stand on a rag- 
ing volcano !”’ 

‘““T have ordered the gunner to drown 
the magazine.”’ 

‘‘He was too late. The hold of the 
ship is a fiery furnace. I heard him fall 
among the storerooms, and it surpassed 
the power of man to give the wretch suc- 
cor. The grenade had fallen near some 
combustibles, and, painful as it is to part 
with a ship so loved, Ludlow, thou wilt 
meet the loss likea man! Think of thy 
wounded; my boats are still hanging at 
the stern.’’ 

Ludlow reluctantly, but firmly, gave 
the order to bear the wounded to the 
boats. This was an arduous and delicate 
duty. The smallest boy in the ship knew 
the whole extent of the danger, and that 
a moment, by the explosion of the powder, 
might precipitate them all into eternity. 
The deck forward was getting too hot to 
be endured, and there were places even in 
which the beams had given symptoms of 
yielding. 

But the poop, elevated still above the 
fire, offered a momentaryrefuge. Thither 
all retired, while the weak and wounded 


"04 WORKS 


were lowered, with the caution circum- 


stances would permit, into the whale boats 


of the smugglers. 

Ludlow stood at one ladder and the 
freetrader at the other, in order to be 
certain that none proved Yrecreant in so 
trying a moment. Near them were Alida, 
Seadrift and the Alderman, with the at- 
tendants of the former. 

It seemed an age before this humane 
and tender duty was performed. At length 
the cry of ‘All in!’* was uttered, in a 
manner to betray the extent of the self- 
command that had been necessary to 
effect it. 

‘“Now, Alida, we may think of thee 
said Ludlow, turning to the spot occupied 
by the silent heiress. 

“And you!’ she said, hesitating to 
move. 

‘‘Duty demands that I shall be the 
last-———’”’ 

A sharp explosion beneath, and frag- 
ments of fire flying upward through a 
hatch, interrupted his words. Plunges 
into the sea, and a rush of people to 
the boats, followed. All order and au- 
thority were completely lost in the instinct 
of life. In vain did Ludlow call on his 
men to be cool, and wait for those who 
were still above. His words were lost 
in the uproar of clamorous voices. 

For a moment, it seemed, however, as 
if the Skimmer of the Seas would over- 
come the confusion. Throwing himself 
.on a ladder, he glided into the bow of 
one of the boats, and, holding by the 
ropes with a vigorous arm, he resisted 
the efforts of all the oars and boathooks, 
while he denounced destruction on him 
who dared to quit the ship. Had not the 
two crews been mingled, the high author- 
ity and determined mien of the freetrader 
would have prevailed; but while some 
were disposed to obey, others raised the 
cry of ‘“‘Throw the dealer in witchcraft 
into the sea!’’ Boat-hooks were already 
pointed at his breast, and the horrors of 
the fearful moment were about to be in- 
creased by the violence of a mutinous con- 
tention, when a second explosion nerved 
the arms of the rowers to madness. With 
a common and desperate effort, they over- 


1 9? 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


j 4 
came all resistance. Swinging off upon 
the ladder, the furious seaman saw the 
boat gliding from his grasp, and depart. 
The execration that was uttered, beneath 
the stern of the Coquette, was deep and 
powerful; but, in another moment, the 
Skimmer stood on the’ poop, calm and 
undejected, in the center of the deserted 
group. 

‘*The explosion of a few of the officers’ 
pistols has frightened the miscreants,’’ he 
said cheerfully. ‘‘But hope is not yet 
lost! They linger in the distance, and 
may return ! ”’ 

The sight of the helpless party on the 
poop, and the consciousness of being less 
exposed themselves, had indeed arrested 
the progress of the fugitives. Still, self- 
ishness predominated ; and while most re- 
gretted their danger, none but the young 
and unheeded midshipmen, who were 
neither of an age nor of a rank to wield 
sufficient authority, proposed to return. 
There was little argument necessary to 
show that the perils increased at each 
moment; and finding that no other ex- 
pedient remained, the gallant youths en- 
couraged the men to pull toward the land, 
intending themselves to return instantly 
to the assistance of their commander and 
his friends. The oars dashed into the 
water again, and the retiring boats were 
soon lost to view in the body of darkness. 

While the fire had been raging within, 
another element without had aided to 
lessen the hope for those who were aban- 
doned. The wind from the land had con- 
tinued to rise, and, during the time lost in 
useless exertion, the ship had been per- 
mitted to run nearly before it. When 
hope was gone, the helm had been de- 
serted, and as all the lower sails had been 
hauled up to avoid the flames, the vessel 
had drifted many minutes nearly dead to 
leeward. The mistaken youths, who had 
not attended to these circumstances, were 
already miles from that beach they hoped 
to reach so soon; and ere the boats had 
separated from the ship five minutes they 
were hopelessly asunder. Ludlow had 
early thought of the expedient of strand- 
ing the vessel as.a means of saving her — 
people ; but his better knowledge of their — 


THE WATER-WITCH. 705 


position soon showed him the utter futility 
of the attempt. : 

Of the progress of the flames beneath, 
the mariners could only judge by circum- 
stances. The Skimmer glanced his eye 
about him, on regaining the poop, and 
appeared to scan the amount and quality 
of the physical force that was still at their 
disposal. He saw that the Alderman, the 
faithful Francois, and two of his own sea- 
men, with four of the petty officers of the 
ship, remained. The six latter, even in 
that moment of desperation, had calmly 
refused to desert their officers. 

“The flames are in the staterooms! ”’ 
he whispered to Ludlow. 

*““Not farther aft, I think, than the 
berths of the midshipmen—else we should 
hear more pistols.”’ 

‘‘True—they are fearful signals to let 
us know the progress of the fire !—our 
best resource is a raft.’’ 

Ludlow looked as if he despaired of the 
means, but, concealing the discouraging 
fear, he answered cheerfully in the affirma- 
tive. Theorders were instantly given, and 
all on board gave themselves to the task, 
heart and hand. The danger was one 
that admitted of no ordinary or half con- 
ceived expedients; but, in such an emer- 
gency, it required all the readiness of their 
art, and even-the greatness of that con- 
ception which is the property of genius. 

All distinctions of rank and authority 
had ceased, except as deference was paid 
to natural qualities and the intelligence of 
experience. Under such circumstances, 
the Skimmer of the Seas took the lead; 
and though Ludlow caught his ideas with 


professional quickness, it was the mind of | 


the freetrader that controlled throughout 
the succeeding exertions of that fearful 
night. 

The cheek of Alida was blanched to a 
deadly paleness; but there rested about 
the bright and wild eyes of Seadrift an 
expression of supernatural resolution. 

When the crew abandoned the hope of 
extinguishing the flames, they closed all 


the hatches to retard the crisis as much as 


possible. Here and there, however, little 

torch-like lights were beginning to show 

themselves through the planks, and the 
IV .—23 


whole deck, forward of the mainmast, 


| was already in a critical and sinking state. 


One or two of the beams had failed ; but, 
as yet, the form of the construction was 
preserved. Still the seamen distrusted 
the treacherous footing ; and, had the heat 
permitted the experiment, they would 
have shrunk back from a risk which at 
any unexpected moment might commit 
them to the fiery furnace beneath. 

The smoke ceased, and a clear, power- 
ful light illuminated theship to her trucks. 
In consequence of the care and exertions 
of her people, the sails and masts were 
yet untouched ; and as the graceful canvas 
swelled with the breeze, it still urged the 
blazing hull through the water. 

The forms of the Skimmer and his as- 
sistants were ‘visible, in the midst of the 
gallant gear, perched on the giddy yards. 
Seen by that light, with his peculiar attire, 
his firm and certain step, and his resolute 
air, the freetrader resembled some fancied 
sea-god, who, secure in immortal immun- 
ities, had come te act his part in that 
awful but exciting trial of hardihood and 
skill. Seconded by the common men, he 
was employed in cutting the canvas from 
the yards. Sail after sail fell upon the 
deck, and, in an incredibly short space of 
time, the whole of the foremast was naked 
to its spars and rigging. 

In the meantime, Ludlow, assisted by 
the Alderman and Francois, had not been 
idle below. Passing forward between the 
empty ridge-ropes, lanyard after lanyard 
parted under the blows of their little 
boarding-axes. The mast now depended 
on the strength of the wood and the sup- 
port of a single back-stay. 

“* Lay down !’’ shouted Ludlow. 
is gone aft, but this stay ! ”’ 

The Skimmer leaped upon the firm rope, 
followed by all aloft, and, gliding down- 
ward, he was instantly in the hammock- 
cloths. A crash followed their descent, 
and an explosion, which caused the whole 
of the burning fabric to tremble to its 
center, seemed to announce the end of all. 
Even the freetrader recoiled before the 
horrid din; but when he stood near Sea- 
drift and the heiress again, there was 
cheerfulness in his tones, and a look of 


“All 


706 


high and even of gay resolution in his firm 
countenance. 

“The deck has failed forward!’ he 
said, ‘‘and our artillery is beginning to 
cutter fearful signal-guns! Be of cheer ! 
The magazine of the ship lies deep, and 
many sheathed bulkheads still protect us.”’ 

Another discharge from a heated gun, 
however, proclaimed the rapid progress of 
the flames. The fire broke out of the in- 
terior anew, and the foremast kindled. 

«“There must be an ehd of this!’ said 


Alida, clasping her hands in a terror that | 


could not be controlled. ‘Save your- 
selves, if possible, you who have the 


strength and courage, and leave us to 


the mercy of Him whose eye is over all!”’ 


““Go!’’ added Seadrift, whose sex could 
no longer be concealed. ‘‘ Human cour- 
age can do no more; leave us to die! ”’ 

The looks that were returned to these 
sad requests were melancholy, but un- 
moved. The Skimmer caught a rope, and 
still holding it in his hand, he descended 
to the quarter-deck, on which he at first 
trusted his weight with jealous caution. 
Then looking up, he smiled encouragingly, 
and said, ““ Where a gun stands, there is 
no danger for the weight of a man!” 

‘Tt is our only resource,”’ cried Ludlow, 
imitating his example. ‘“‘On, my men, 
while the beams wili still hold us.”’ 

In a moment all were on the quarter- 
deck, though the excessive heat rendered 
it impossible to remain stationary for an 
instant. A gun on each side was run in, 
its tackles loosened, andits muzzle pointed 
toward the tottering, unsupported, but 
still upright foremast. 

‘Aim at the cleats!’ said Ludlow to 
the Skimmer, who pointed one gun, while 
he did the same office at the other. 

‘“Hold!’’ cried the latter. ‘Throw in 
shot—it is but the chance between a burst- 
ing gun and a lighted magazine !”’ 

Additional balls were introduced into 
each piece, and then with steady hands, 
the gallant mariners applied burning 
brands to the priming. The discharges 
were simultaneous, and, for an instant, 
volumes of smoke rolled along the deck 
and seemed to triumph over the confla- 
gration. The rending of wood was audible. 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


It was followed by a Sweeping noise in 
the air, and the fall of the foremast, with 
all its burden of spars, into the sea. The 
motion of the ship was instantly arrested, 
and as the heavy timbers were still at- 
tached to the bowsprit by the forward 
stays, her head came to the wind, when 
the remaining topsails flapped, shivered, 
and took aback. : 

The vessel was now, for the first time 
during the fire, stationary. The common 
mariners profited by the circumstance ;. 
and, darting past the mounting flames 
along the bulwarks, they gained the top- 
gallant-forecastle, which, though heated, 


“was yet untouched. The Skimmer glanced 


an eye about him, and seizing Seadrift by 
the waist, as if the mimic seaman had 
been a child, he pushed forward between 
the ridge-ropes. Ludlow followed with 
Alida, and the others imitated their ex- 
ample in the best manner they could. 
All reached the head of the ship in 
safety; though Ludlow had been driven 
by the flames into the fore-channels, and 
thence neaaly into the sea. 

The petty officers were already on the 
floating: spars separating them from each 
other, cutting away the unnecessary 
weight of rigging, bringing the several 
parts of the wood in parallel lines, and 
lashing them anew. Ever and anon, these 
rapid movements were quickened by one 
of those fearful signals from the officers’ 
berths, which, by announcing the progress 
of the flames beneath, betrayed their in- 
creasing proximity to the still slumbering 
volcano. The boats had been gone an 
hour, yet it seemed, to all in the ship, but 
a minute. The conflagration had, for the 
last ten minutes, advanced with renewed 
fury ; and the whole of the confined flame, 
which had been so long pent in the depths 
of the vessel, now glared high in the open 
air. Mee 

‘This heat can no longer be borne,”’ 
said Ludlow, “we must to our raft for 
breath.”’ 

“*To the raft then ! ’’ returned the cheer- 
ful voice of the freetrader. ‘‘ Haul in 
upon your fasts, men, and stand by to 
receive the precious freight.”’ 

The seamen obeyed. Alidaandhercom- 


THE WATER-WITCH. 


panions were lowered safely to the place | 


prepared for their reception. The fore- 
mast had gone over the side with all its 
spars aloft; for preparation had been 
made before the fire commenced to carry 
sail to the utmost in order to escape the 
enemy. The skillful and active seamen, 
directed and aided by Ludlow and the 


Skimmer, had made a simple but happy: 


disposition of those buoyant materials on 
which their all now depended. In settling 
in the water, the yards, still crossed, had 
happily fallen uppermost. The booms and 
all the light spars had been floated near 
the top, and laid across, reaching from 
the lower to the topsail-yard. <A few light 
. Spars, stowed outboard, had been cut away 
and added to the number, and the whole 
were secured with the readiness and in- 
genuity of seamen. On the first alarm of 
fire, some of the crew had séized a few 
light articles that would float, and rushed 
to the head, as the place most remote from 
the magazine, in the blind hope of saving 
life by swimming. Most of these articles 
had been deserted when the people were 
rallied to exertion by their officers. A 
couple of empty shot-boxes and a mess- 
chest were among them, and on the latter 
were seated the females, while the former 
served to keep their feet from the water. 
As the arrangement of the spars forced 
the principal mast beneath the element, 
and the ship was so small as to need little 
artificial work in her masting, the part 
around the top, which contained the stag- 
ing, was scarcely submerged. 

Although a ton in weight was added to 
the inherent gravity of the wood, still, as 
the latter was of the lightest description, 
and freed as much as possible of every- 
thing that was unnecessary to the safety 
of those it supported, the spars floated 
sufficiently buoyant for the temporary se- 
. curity of the fugitives. 

“Cut the fasts!’’ said Ludlow, invol- 
untarily starting at several explosions in 
the interior, which followed each other in 
quick succession, and which were suc- 
ceeded by one which sent fragments of 
‘burning wood into the air. ‘‘ Cut, and 
bear the raft off the ship! God knows 
we have need to be farther asunder ! ”’ 


707 


‘‘Cut not!’’ cried the half frantic Sea- 
drift. ‘My brave! my devoted——”’ 

‘‘Is safe,’? calmly said the Skimmer, 
appearing in the ratlines of the main-rig- 
ging, which was still untouched by the 
fire. 
mizzen-topsail more firmly aback.’’ 

The duty was done, and for a moment 
the fine figure of the freetrader was seen 
standing on the edge of the burning: ship, 
looking with regret at the glowing mass. 

“°Tis the end of a lovely craft !’’ he 
said, loud enough to be heard by those 
beneath. Then he appeared in the air 
and sank into the sea. ‘‘The last signal 
was from the ward-room,’’. added the 
dauntless and dexterous mariner as he 
rose from the water, and, shaking the 
brine from his head, he took his place on 
the stage. ‘‘ Would to God the wind 
would blow, for we have need of greater 
distance ! ”’ 

The precaution the freetrader had taken 
in adjusting the sails, was not without its 
use. Motion the raft had none, but as 
the topsails of the Coquette were still 
aback, the flaming mass, no longer ar- 
rested by the clogs in the water, began 
slowly to separate from the floating 
spars, though the tottering and_half- 
burned masts threatened at each mo- 
ment to fall. 

Never did moments seem so long as 
those which succeeded. Even the Skim- 
mer and Ludlow watched, in speechless 
interest, the tardy movements of the ship. 
By little and little she receded; and, 
after ten minutes of intense expectation, 
the seamen, whose anxiety had increased 
as their exertions ended, began to breathe 
more freely. They were still fearfully near 
the dangerous fabric, but destruction from 
the explosion was no longer inevitable. 
The flames began to glide upward, and 
the heavens appeared on fire, as one 
heated sail after another kindled and 
flared wildly in the breeze. 

Still the stern of the vessel was entire. 
The body of the master was seated against 
the mizzen-mast, and even the stern vis- 
age of the old seaman was distinctly visi- 
ble, under the broad light of the conflagra- 
tion. Ludlow gazed at it in melancholy, 


“Cut off all! I stay to brace the | 


! 
\ 


708 WORKS 
and for a time he ceased to think of his 
ship, while memory dwelt, in sadness, on 
those scenes of boyish happiness, and of 
professional pleasures, in which his an- 
cient shipmate had so largely participated. 
The roar of a gun, whose stream of fire 
flashed nearly to their faces, and the sul- 
len whistling of its shot, which crossed the 
raft, failed to awaken him from his trance. 

«Stand firm to the mess-chest !’’ half- 
whispered the Skimmer, motioning to his 
companions to place themselves in atti- 
tudes to support the weaker of their 
party, while with sedulous care, he braced 
his own athletic person in a manner to 
throw all of his weight and strength 
against the seat. ‘‘ Stand firm, and be 
ready !”’ 

Ludlow complied, though his eye scarce 
changed its direction. He saw the bright 
flame that was rising above the arm- 
chest, and he fancied it came from the 
funeral pile of the young Dumont, whose 
fate, at that moment, he was almost dis- 
posed to envy. Then his look returned to 
the grim countenance of Trysail. At mo- 
ments it seemed as if the dead master 
spoke; and so strong did the illusion be- 
come, that our young sailor more than 
once bent forward to listen. While under 
this delusion, the body rose, with the arms 
stretched upward. The air was filled with 
a sheet of streaming fire, while the ocean 
and the heavens glowed with one glare of 
intense and fiery red. Notwithstanding 
the precaution of the Skimmer of the 
Seas, the chest was driven from its place, 
and those by whom it was held were 
nearly precipitated into the water. 

A deep, heavy detonation proceeded as 
it were from the bosom of the sea, which, 
while it wounded the ear less than the 
sharp explosion that had just before issued 
from the gun, was audible at the distant 
capes of the Delaware. The body of Try- 
sail sailed upward for fifty fathoms, in 
the center of a flood of flame, and, describ- 
ing ashort curve, it came toward the raft, 
and cut the water within reach of the 
Captain’s arm. A sullen plunge of a gun 
followed, and proclaimed the tremendous 
power of the explosion ; while a ponderous 
yard fell athwart a part of the raft, 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


sweeping away the four petty officers of ~ 
Ludlow, as if they had been dust driving 
before a gale. To increase the wild and 
fearful grandeur of the dissolution of the 
royal cruiser, one of the cannon emitted 
its fiery contents while sailing in the void. 

The burning spars, the falling frag- 
ments, the blazing and scattered canvas 
and cordage, the glowing shot, and all the 
torn particles of the ship, were seen de- 
scending. Then followed the gurgling of 
the water, as the ocean swallowed all that 
remained of the cruiser which had so long 
been the pride of the American seas. The 
fiery glow disappeared, and a gloom, like 
that which succeeds the glare of vivid 
lightning, fell on the scene. 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 
“Please you, read.’’—CYMBELINE. 


‘‘TT is past !’’ said the Skimmer of the 
Seas, raising himself from the attitude of 
great muscular exertion, which he had 
assumed in order to support the mess- 
chest, and walking out along the single 
mast toward the spot whence the four 
seamen of Ludlow had just been swept. 
‘‘]t is past ! and those who are called to 
the last account have met their fate in 
such a scene as none but a seaman may 
witness; while those who are spared have 
need of all a seaman’s skill and resolution 
for that which remains. Captain Ludlow, 
I do not despair; for, see, the lady of the 
brigantine has still a smile for her servi- 
tors ! ’’ 

Ludlow, who had followed the steady 
and daring freetrader to the place where 
the spar had fallen, turned and cast a 
look in the direction in which the other 
stretched his arm. Within a hundred 
feet of him he saw the image of the sea- 
green lady rocking on the agitated water, 
and turned toward the raft with its usual 
expression of wild and malicious intellh- 
gence. The emblem of their fancied mis- 
tress had been borne in front of the smug- 
glers when they mounted the poop of the 
Coquette; and the steeled staff on which 
the lantern was perched had been stuck 


THE WATEHR-WITCH. 


in a horse-bucket by the standard-bearer 
of the moment, ere he entered the melee 
of the combat. During the conflagration 
this object had more than once met the 
eye of Ludlow, and now it had appeared 
floating by him in a manner almost to 
shake even his contempt for the ordinary 
superstitions of a seaman. While he hesi- 
tated in what manner he should reply to 
his companion’s remark the latter plunged 
into the sea and swam toward the light. 

He was.soon by the side of the raft 
again, bearing aloft the symbol of his 
brigantine. There are none so firm in the 
dominion of reason as to be entirely 
superior to the secret impulses which 
teach us all to believe in the hidden 
agency of a good or an evil fortune. The 
voice of the freetrader was more cheer- 
ful, and his step more sure and elastic 
as he crossed the stage and struck the 
armed end of the staff into that part of 
the top-rim of the Coquetle which floated 


uppermost. ’ 
Courage!’ he gaily replied. ‘* While 
this light burns my star in not set! 


Courage, lady of the land; for hereis one 
of the deep waters who still looks kindly 
on her followers! We are at sea, on a 
frail craft it is certain, but a dull sailer 
may make a sure passage. Speak, gallant 
Master Seadrift; thy gayety and spirit 
should revive under so goodly an omen ! ”’ 

But the agent of so many pleasant mas- 
querades, and the instrument of so much 
of his artifice, had not a fortitude equal to 
the buoyant temper of the smuggler. The 
counterfeit bowed his head by the side of 
the silent Alida without a reply. The 
Skimmer of the Seas regarded the group a 
moment with manly interest, and touching 
the arm of Ludlow he walked with a bal- 
ancing step along the spars until they had 
reached a spot where they might confer 
without causing unnecessary alarm to 
their companions. 

Although so imminent and pressing a 
danger as that of the explosion had 
passed, the situation of those who had es- 
caped was scarcely better than that of 
those who had been lost. The heavens 
showed a few glimmering stars in the 


openings of the clouds, and now that the 


709 


first contrast of the change had lessened, 
there was just enough of light to render 
all the features of their actual state 
gloomily imposing. 

It has been said that the foremast of 
the Coquette went by the board, with 
most of its hamper aloft. The sails, with 
such portion of the rigging as might help 
to sustain it, had been hastily cut away as 
related; and after its fall, until the mo- 
ment of the explosion, the common men 
had been engaged, either in securing the 
staging or in clearing the wreck of those 
heavy ropes which, useless as fastenings, ~ 
only added to the weight of the mass. 
The whole wreck lay upon the sea, with 
the yards crossed and in their places, 
much as the spars had stood. The large 
booms had been unshipped, and laid in 
such a manner around the top, with the 
ends resting on the lower and _ topsail 
yards, as to form the foundation of the 
staging. The smaller booms, with the 
mess-chest and the shot-boxes, were all 
that lay between the group in the center, . 
and the depths of the ocean. The upper 
part of the top-rim rose a few feet above 
the water, and formed an important pro- 
tection against the night-breeze and the 
eonstant washing of the waves. In this 
manner were the females seated, cautioned 
not to trust their feet on the frail security 


| of the booms, and supported by the unre- 


mitting care of the Alderman. Francois 
had submitted to be lashed to the top by 
one of the brigantine’s seamen ; while the 
latter, all of the common herd who re- 
mained, encouraged by the presence of 
their standard-light, began to occupy 
themselves in looking to the fastenings 
and other securities of the raft. 

‘Weare in no condition for a long or 
an active cruise, Captain Ludlow,”’ said 
the Skimmer, when he and his companion 
were out of hearing. ‘‘I have been at 
sea in all weathers, and in every descrip- 
tion of craft; but this is the boldest of 
my experiments on the water. I hope it 
may not be the last !”’ 

«‘We cannot conceal from ourselves the 
frightful hazards we run,’”’ returned Lud- 
low, ‘however much we may wish them 
to be a secret to some among us.”’ 


710 

“This is truly a deserted sea to be 
abroad in, on a raft. Were we in the 
narrow passages between the British 
Islands and the Main, or even in the Bis- 
cay waters, there would be hope that 
some trader or roving cruiser might 
cross our track; but our chance here les 
much between the Frenchman and the 
brigantine.’’ 

‘“The enemy has doubtless seen and 
heard the explosion, and, as the land is so 
near, they will infer that the people are 
saved in the boats. Our chance of seeing 
more of them is much diminished by the 
accident of the fire, since there will no 
longer be a motive for remaining on the 
coast.”’ 

** And will your young officers abandon 
their Captain without a search ?”’ 

‘““Hope of aid from that quarter is 
faint. The ship ran miles while in flames; 
and, before the light returns, these spars 
will have drifted leagues with the ebbing 
tide, to seaward.’’ 

“Truly, I have sailed with better 
auguries!’’ observed the Skimmer. 
“What are the bearings and distance 
of the land?’ — 

‘It still lies to the north, but we are 
fast setting east and southerly. Ere morn- 
ing we shall be a-beam of Montauk, or 
even beyond it; we must already be some 
leagues in the offing.”’ 

“That is worse than I had imagined ! 
but there is hope on the flood ! ’’ 


“The flood will bear us northward 


again—but what think you of the 
heavens ? ”’ 

‘Unfavorable, though not desperate. 
The sea-breeze will return with the sun.’’ 

“And with it will return the swell! 
How long will these ill-secured spars 
hold together when agitated by the heave 
of the water? Or how long will those 
with us bear up against the wash of the 
sea, unsupported by nourishment ? ”’ 

‘You paint in gloomy colors, Captain 
Ludlow,” said the freetrader, drawing a 
heavy breath, in spite of all his resolution. 
‘‘My experience tells me you are right, 
though my wishes would fain contradict 
you. Still, I think we have the promise 
of a tranquil night.’ 


° 


WORKS OF FENIMORH COOPER. 


‘Tranquil for a ship, or even fora boat; 
but hazardous to a raft like this. You 
see that this topmast already works in 
the cap at each heave of the water, and 
as the wood loosens, our security lessens.”’ 

‘* Thy counsel is not flattering ! Captain 
Ludlow, you are a seaman and a man, and 
I shall not attempt to trifle with your 
knowledge. With you, I think the danger 
imminent, and almost our only hope de- 
pendent on the good fortune of my brig- 
antine.”’ 

“Will those in her think it their duty 
to quit their anchorage, to come in quest 
of a raft whose existence is unknown to 
them ?’’ 

‘‘ There is hope in the vigilance of her of 
the sea-green mantle! You may deem 
this fanciful, or even worse, at such a 
moment; but I, who have run so many 
gauntlets under her favor, have faith in 
her fortunes. Surely, you are not a sea- 
man, Captain Ludlow, without a secret 
dependence on some unseen and potent 
agency !”’ 

‘“‘My dependence is placed in the agency 
of Him who is all-potent, but never visi- 
ble. If He forget us, we may indeed - 
despair ! 7’ a 

‘‘This is well, but it is not the fortune 
I would express. Believe me, spite of an 
education which teaches all you have said, 
and of a reason that is often too clear for 
folly, there is a secret reliance on hidden 
chances, that has been created by a life 
of activity and hazard, and which, if it 
should do nothing better, does not aban- 
don me to despair. The omen of the 
light and the smile of my mistress would 
cheer me, spite of a thousand philoso- 
phers !”’ 

‘* You are fortunate in purchasing con- 
solation so cheaply,’”’ returned the com- 
mander of Queen Anne, who felt a latent 
hope in his companion’s confidence that 
he would have hesitated to acknowledge. 
‘*T see but little that we can do to aid our 
chances, except it be to clear away all 
unnecessary weight, and to secure the 
raft as much as possible by additional 
lashingss.”’ . 

The Skimmer of the Seas assented 
to the proposal. Consulting a moment 


THE WATER-WITCH. — 711 


longer on the details of their expedients, 
they rejoined the group near the top, in 
order to see them executed. As the sea- 
men on: the raft were reduced to the two 
people of the brigantine, Ludlow and his 
companion were obliged to assist in the 
performance of the duty. 

Much useless rigging, that added to the 
pressure without aiding the buoyancy of 
the raft, was cut away—and all the boom 
irons were knocked off the yards, and suf- 
fered to descend to the bottom of the ocean. 

By these means a great weight was 
taken from the raft, which in consequence 
floated with so much additional power to 
sustain those who depended on it for life. 
The Skimmer, accompanied by his two 
silent but obedient seamen, ventured along 
the attenuated and submerged spars to 
the extremity of the tapering masts, and 
after toiling with the dexterity of men ac- 
customed to deal with the complicated 
machinery of a ship in the darkest nights, 
they succeeded in releasing the two 
smaller masts with their respective yards, 
and in fioating them down to the body of 
the wreck, or the part around the top. 
Here the sticks were crossed in a manner 
to give great additional strength and foot- 
ing to the stage. 

There was an air of hope, and a feeling 
of increased security, in this employment. 
Even the Alderman and Francois aided in 
the task, to the extent of their knowledge 
and force. But when these alterations 
were made, and additional lashings had 
been applied to keep the topmast and the 
larger yards in their places, Ludlow, by 
joining those who were around the mast- 
head, tacitly admitted that little more 
could be done to avert the chances of the 
elements. 

During the few hours occupied in this 
important duty, Alida and her companion 
addressed themselves to God in long and 
fervent petitions. With woman’s faith in 
that divine being who alone could avail 
them, and with woman’s high mental for- 
titude in moments of protracted trial, they 
had both known how to control the ex- 
hibition of their terrors, and had sought 
their support in the same appeal to a 
power superior to all of earth. Ludlow 


was, therefore, more than rewarded by 
the sound of Alida’s voice, speaking to 
him cheerfully, as she thanked him for. 
what he had done, when he admitted that 
he could now do no more. 

“«“The rest is with Providence !’’ added 
Alida. ‘‘ All that bold and skillful sea- 
men can do, have ye done; and all that 
woman in such a situation can do, have we 
done in your behalf.’’ 

‘Thou hast thought of me in thy 
prayers, Alida. It is an intercession that 
the stoutest needs, and which none but the 
fool derides.”’ is 

‘¢ And thou, Eudora! thou hast remem- 
bered Him who quiets the waters!’ said 
a deep voice near the bending form of the 
counterfeit Seadrift. 

“‘T have.”’ 

“°?Tis well. There are points to which 
manhood and experience may pass, and 
there are those where all is left to One 
mightier than the elements! ’’ 

Words like these, coming from the lips 
of one of the known character of the Skim- 
mer of the Seas, were not given to the 
winds. Even Ludlow cast an uneasy look 
at the heavens, when they came upon his 
ear, as if they conveyed a secret notice of 
the whole extremity of the danger by 
which they were environed. None an- 
swered; and a long silence succeeded, 
during which some of the more fatigued 
slumbered uneasily, spite of their fearful 
situation. 

In this manner did the night pass in 
weariness and anxiety. Little was said, 
and for hours scarce a limb was moved, 
in the group that clustered around the 
mess-chest. As the signs of day appeared, 
however, every faculty was keenly awake 
to catch the first signs of what they had 
to hope, or the first certainty of what they 
had to fear. 

The surface of the ocean was still 
smooth, though the long swells in which 
the element was heaving and setting, suf- 
ficiently indicated that the raft had floated 
farfrom theland. This fact was rendered 
sure when the light, which soon appeared 
along the eastern margin of the narrow 
view, was shed gradually over the whole 
horizon. Nothing was at first visible but 


712 WORKS 
one gloomy and vacant waste of water. 
But a cry of joy from Seadrift, whose 
senses had long been practiced in ocean 
_ sights, soon drew all eyes in the direction 
opposite to that of the rising sun, and it 
was not long before all on the low raft had 
a view of the snowy surfaces of a ship’s 
sails, as the glow of morning touched the 
canvas. 

‘It is the Frenchman !”’ said the free- 
trader. ‘‘ He is charitably looking for the 
wreck of his late enemy !’’ 

‘It may be so, for our fate can be no 
secret to him,’’ was the answer of Ludlow. 
‘‘Unhappily, we had run some distance 
from the anchorage before the flames 
broke out. Truly, those with whom weso 
lately struggled for life, are bent on a 
duty of hnmanity.”’ 

‘‘ Ah, yonder is his crippled consort !— 
to leeward many a league. The gay bird 
has been too sadly stripped of its plumage 
to fly so near the wind! This is man’s 
fortune! He uses his power, at one 
moment, to destroy the very means 
that become necessary to his safety the 
next.’ 

‘‘And what think you of our hopes? ”’ 
asked Alida, searching in the countenance 
of Ludlow a clew to their fate. ‘‘ Does 
the stranger move ina direction favorable 
to our wishes ? ”’ 

Neither Ludlow nor the Skimmer re- 
plied. Both regarded the frigate intently ; 
then, as objects became more distinct, both 
answered by a common impulse, that the 
ship was steering directly toward them. 
The declaration excited general hope, and 
even the negress was no longer restrained 
by her situation from expressing her joy 
in vociferous exclamations of delight. 

A few minutes of active and ready exer- 
tion succeeded. <A light boom was un- 
lashed from the raft and raised on its end, 
Supporting a little signal made of the 
handkerchiefs of the party, which flut- 
tered in the light breeze at the elevation 
of some twenty feet above the surface of 
the water. After this precaution was ob- 
Served, they were obliged to await the 
result in such patience as they could as- 
sume. Minute passed after minute, and, 
at each moment, the form and proportions 
of the ship became more distinct, until all 
the mariners of the party declared they 
could distinguish men on her yards. A 
cannon would have readily sent. its shot 
from the ship to the raft, yet no sign 
betrayed the consciousness of those in the 
former of the proximity of the latter. 

‘“‘T do not like this manner of steering ! ” 
observed the Skimmer to the silent and 
attentive Ludlow. ‘ He yaws broadly, as 
if disposed to give up the search. God 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. a 


grant him the heart to continue on his 
course ten minutes longer ! ”’ 

‘‘Have we no means of making our- 
selves heard ?’? demanded the Alderman. 
“Methinks the voice of a strong man 
might be sent thus far across the water 
when life is at stake.”’. 

The more experienced shook their heads; 
but, not discouraged, the burgher raised 
his voice with a power that was sustained 
by the imminency ofthe peril. He was 
joined by the seamen, and even Ludlow 
lent his aid, until all were hoarse with the 
fruitless effort.. Men were evidently aloft, 
and in some numbers, searching the ocean- 
with their eyes, but still no answering 
signal came from the vessel. | 

The ship continued to approach, and the 
raft was less than half a mile from her 
bows, when the vast fabric suddenly re- 
ceded from the breeze, showed the whole 
of its glittering broadside, and, swinging 
its yards, betrayed by its new position 
that the search in that direction was aban- 
doned. The instant Ludlow saw the fill- 
ing-off of the frigate’s bows, he cried : 

‘‘ Now, raise your voices together ; this 
is the final chance! ”’ 

They united in a common shout, with 
the exception of the Skimmer of the Seas. 
The latter leaned against the top with 
folded arms, listening to their impotent ef- 
forts with a melancholy smile. 

“It is well attempted,” said the calm 
and extraordinary seaman when the clam- 
or had ceased, advancing along the raft, 
and motioning for all to be silent ; ‘‘ but it 
has failed. The swinging of the yards, 
and the order given in wearing ship, 
would prevent a strange sound from being 
audible to men so actively employed. I 
flatter none with hope, but this is truly 
the moment for a final effort.’’ 

He placed his hands to his mouth, and, 
disregarding words, he raised a cry so 
clear, so powerful, and yet so full, that it 
seemed impossible those in the vessel 
Should not hear it. Thrice did he repeat 
the experiment, though it was- evident 
that each successive exertion was feebler 
than the last. 

‘‘They hear !”’ cried Alida. 
movement in the sails ! ’’ . 

Tis the breeze freshening,’’ said Lud- 
low, in sadness, at her side. ‘‘ Hach mo- 
ment takes them away !”’ 

The melancholy truth was too apparent 
for denial, and for half an hour the retir- 
ing ship was watched in the bitterness of 
disappointment. At the end of that time 
she fired a gun, spread additional canvas 
on her wide booms, and stood away before 
the wind to join her consort, whose upper 
sails were already dipping to the surface 


‘There is 


THE WATER-WITCH. 713 


of the sea in the southern board. With 
this change in her movements, vanished 
all expectation of succor from the cruiser 
of the enemy. | 

Perhaps, in every situation of life, it is 
necessary that hope should be first less- 
ened by disappointment, before the buoy- 
ancy of the human mind will permit it to 
descend to the level of an evil fortune. 
Until a frustrated effort teaches him the 
difficulty of the attempt, he who has fallen 
may hope to rise again; and it is only 
when an exertion has been made with 
lessened means, that we learn the value 
‘of advantages, which have perhaps been 
long enjoyed, with a very undue estimate 
of their importance. Until the stern of 
the French frigate was seen retiring from 
the raft, those who were on it had not 
been fully sensible of the extreme danger 
of their situation. Hope-had been strongly 
excited by the return of dawn; for while 
the shadows of night lay on the ocean, 
their situation resembled that of one who 
strove to pierce the obscurity of the future, 
in order to obtain a presage of better fort- 
unes. With the light had come the dis- 
tant sail. As the day advanced, the ship 
had approached, relinquished her search, 
and disappeared, without a prospect of 
her return. 

The stoutest heart among the group on 
the raft began to sink at the gloomy fate 
which now seemed inevitable. 

‘Here is an evil omen!’ whispered 
Ludlow, directing his companion’s eyes to 
the dark and pointed fins of three or four 
sharks that were gliding above the sur- 
face of the water, and in so fearful a 
proximity to their persons as to render 
their situation on the low spars, over 
which the water was washing and retir- 
ing at each rise and fall of the waves, 
doubly dangerous. ‘‘ The creatures’ in- 
stinct speaks ill for our hopes ! ”’ 

‘“There is a belief among seamen that 
these animals feel a secret impulse, which 
directs them to their -prey,’’ returned the 
Skimmer. ‘‘ But fortune may yet balk 
them. Rogerson!’’ calling to one of his 
followers; “‘thy pockets are rarely want- 
ing in a fisherman’s tackle. Hast thou, 
haply, line and hook for these hungry 
miscreants ? 
rowed to one in which the simplest philoso- 
phy is the wisest. When eat or to be 
eaten is the mooted point, most men will 
decide for the former.’’ 

A hook of sufficient size was soon pro- 
duced, and a line was quietly provided 
from some of the small cordage that still 
remained about the masts. <A_ piece of 
leather, torn from a spar, answered for 
the bait ; and the lure was thrown. Ex- 


The question is getting nar- 


treme hunger seemed to engross the vora- 
cious animals, who darted at the imagi- 
nary prey with the rapidity of lightning. | 
The shock was so sudden and violent that 
the hapless mariner was drawn from his 
Slippery and precarious footing into the 
sea. The whole passed with a frightful 
and alarming rapidity. A common cry of 
horror was heard, and the last despairing 
glance of the fallen man was witnessed. 
The mutilated body floated for an instant 
in its blood, with the look of agony and 
terror still imprinted on the conscious 
countenance. At the next moment it 
had become food for the monsters of the 
sea. " 

All had passed away but the deep dye 
on the surface of the ocean. The gorged 
fish disappeared; but the dark spot re- 
mained near the immovable raft, as if 
placed there to warn the survivors of their 
fate. ‘* This is horrible !”’ said Ludlow. 

‘* A sail !’’ shouted the Skimmer, whose 
voice and tone, breakin@ in on that mo- 
ment of intense horror and apprehension, 
sounded like a cry from the heavens. 
‘* My gallant brigantine !”’ : 

‘God grant she comes with better fort- 
SE Aiea those who have so lately left 
us !”’ 

‘God grant it, truly! If this hope 
fail, there is none left. Few pass here, 
and we have had sufficient proof that our 
topgallants are not so lofty as to catch 
every eye.”’ - 

All attention was now bestowed on the 
white speck which was visible on the mar- 
gin of the ocean, and which the Skimmer 
of the Seas confidently pronounced to be 
the Water-Witch. 

None but a seaman could have felt this 
certainty ; for, seen from the low raft, 
there was little else to be distinguished 
but the heads of the upper sails. The 
direction, too, was unfavorable, as it was 
to leeward ; but both Ludlow and the free- 
trader assured their companions that the 
vessel was endeavoring to beat in with the 
land. 

The two hours that succeeded lingered 
like days of misery. So much depended on 
a variety of events, that every circum- 
stance was noted by the seamen of the 
party with an interest bordering on agony. 
A failure of the wind might compel the 
vessel to remain stationary, and then both 
brigantine and raft would be at the mercy 
of the uncertain currents of the ocean; a 
change of wind might cause a change of 
course, and render a meeting impossible ; 
an increase of the breeze might cause de- 
struction, even before the succor might 
come. In addition to these obvious haz- 
ards, there were all the chances which 


(14 WORKS 
were dependent on the fact that the people 
of the brigantine had every reason to be- 
lieve the fate of the party was already 
sealed. 

Still fortune seemed propitious ; for the 
breeze, though steady, was light, the in- 
tention of the vessel was evidently to pass 
somewhere near them, and the hope that 
their object was search, so strong and 
plausible, as to exhilarate every bosom. 

‘At the expiration of the time named, 
the brigantine passed the raft to leeward, 
and so near as to render the smallest ob- 
jects in her rigging distinctly visible. 

“The faithful fellows are looking for 
us !”’ exclaimed the freetrader, with strong 
emotion in his voice. ‘*‘They are men to 
scour the coast, ere they abandon us! ”’ 

“They pass us—wave the signal —it 
may catch their eyes!” 

The little flag was unheeded, and, after 
so long and so intense expectation, the 
party on the raft had the pain to see the 
swift-moving vessel glide past them, and 
drawing so far ahead as to leave little 
hope of her return. The heart of even the 
Skimmer of the Seas seemed to sink within 
him at the disappointment. 

‘‘Hor myself, I care not,’’ said the stout 
mariner, mournfully. ‘‘Of what conse- 
quence is it in what sea, or in what voy- 
age a seaman goes into his watery tomb ? 
—but for thee, my hapless and playful 
Eudora, I could wish another fate—ha !— 
she tacks !—the. sea-green lady has an 
instinct for her children, after all! ’’ 

The brigantine was in stays. In ten or 
fifteen minutes more the vessel was again 
abeam of the raft, and to windward. 

‘‘ Tf she pass us now, our chance is gone, 
without a shadow of hope,’’ said the 
Skimmer, motioning solemnly for silence. 
Then, applying his hand to his mouth, he 
shouted, as if despair lent a giant’s vol- 
ume to his lungs— 

‘Ho! the Water-Witch, ahoy !’’ 

The last words issued from his lips with 
the clear, audible cry that the peculiar 
sound is intended to produce. It ap- 
peared as if the conscious little bark knew 
its commander’s voice; for its course 
changed slightly, as if the fabric was 
possessed of the consciousness and facul- 
ties of life. 

“Ho! The Water-Witch— ahoy!”’ 
shouted the Skimmer, with a still might- 
ier effort. 

‘‘Hilloa!’’? came down faintly on the 
breeze, and the direction of the brigantine 
again altered. 

“The Water-Witch!—the Water- 
Witch !—ahoy !’’ broke out of the lips of 
the mariner of the shawl, with a super- 
natural force—the last cry being drawn 


OF FENIMORE COOPER. ~ 


out till he who uttered it sank back ex- 
hausted with the effort. 

The words were still ringing in the 
ears of the breathless party on the raft, 
when a heavy shout swept across the 
water. At the next moment the boom of 
the brigantine swung off, and her narrow 
bows were seen pointing toward the little 
beacon of white that played above the 
sea. It was buta moment, but it was a 
moment pregnant with a thousand hopes 
and fears, before the beautiful craft was 
gliding within fifty feet of the top. In 
less than five minutes the spars of the 
Coquette were floating on the wide ocean, 
unpeopled and abandoned. 

The first sensation of the Skimmer of 
the Seas, when his foot touched the brig- 
antine, might have been one of deep and 
intense gratitude. He was silent, and 
seemingly oppressed at the throat. Step- 
ping along the planks, he cast an eye 
aloft, and struck his hand powerfully on 
the capstan, in a manner that was di- 
vided between convulsion and affection. 
Then he smiled grimly on his attentive 
and obedient crew, speaking with his 
wonted cheerfulness and authority : 

‘Fill away. the topsail—brace up and 
haul aft! Trim everything flat as boards, 
boys; jam the dear hussy in with the 
coast !”’ 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 


‘*Beseech you, sirs, were you present at this rela- 
tion ??’,—WINTER’S TALE, 


ON the following morning the windows 
of the Lust in Rust denoted the presence 
of its owner. There was an air of melan- 
choly, yet of happiness, in the faces of 
many who were seen about the buildings 
and the grounds, as if a very great good 
had been accompanied by some grave and 
qualifying circumstance of sorrow. The 
negroes wore an air of that love of: the 
extraordinary which is the concomitant of 
ignorance, while those of the more fortu- 
nate resembled men who retained a recol- 
lection of serious evils that were passed. 

In the private apartment of the burgher, 
however, an interview took place which 
was characterized by an air of deep con- 
cern. The parties were only the freetrader 
and the Alderman. - But it was apparent, 
in the look of each, that they met like 
men who had interesting and_ serious 
matters to discuss. Still, one accustomed 
to the expressions of the human counte- 
nance might have seen that while the 
former was about to introduce topics in 
which his feelings were powerfully en- 


THE WATER-WITCOH. 7 715 


listed, the other looked to the grosser|and twelve of them have been under thy 


interests of his commerce. 

‘““My minutes are counted,’’ said. the 
mariner, stepping into-the center of the 
room and facing his companion. ‘‘ That 
which is to be said must be said briefly. 
Lhe inlet can only be passed on the rising 
water, and it will ill consult your opinions 
of prudence were I to tarry till the hue 
and cry that will follow the intelligence 
of that which has lately happened in the 
offing shall be heard in the Province.”’ 

“Spoken with a rover’s discretion! 
This reserve will perpetuate friendship, 
which is naught weakened by your activ- 
ity in our late uncomfortable voyage on 
the yards and masts of Queen Anne’s late 
cruiser. Well! I wish no ill-luck to any 
loyal gentleman in her Majesty’s service ; 
but it is a thousand pities that thou wert 
not ready, now the coast is clear, with a 
good heavy inward cargo! The last was 
altogether an affair of secret drawers and 
rich laces; valuable in itself, and profit- 
able in the exchange; but the colony is 
sadly in want of certain articles that can 
only be landed at leisure.’’ 

‘IT come on other matters. There have 
been transactions between us, Alderman 
Van Beverout, that you little under- 
stand.”’ 

‘You speak of a small mistake in the 
last invoice? ’Tis all explained, Master 
Skimmer, on a second examination ; and 
thy accuracy is as wellestablished as that 
of the Bank of England.’’ 

‘‘Kstablished or not, let him who 
doubts cease to deal. I have no other 
motto than ‘ Confidence,’ nor any other 
rule but ‘ Justice.’ ”’ 

“You overrun my meaning, friend of 
mine. I intimate no suspicions; but ac- 
curacy is the soul of commerce, as profit 
is its object. Clear accounts, with rea- 
sonable balances, are the surest cements 
of business intimacies. A little frankness 
operates, in a secret trade, like equity in 
the courts ; which re-establishes the jus- 
tice that the law has destroyed. What 
is thy purpose ? ”’ 

‘It is now many years, Alderman Van 
Beverout, since this secret trade was com- 
menced between you and my predecessor 
—he whom you have thought my father, 
but who only claimed that revered ap- 
pellation by protecting the helplessness 
and infancy of the orphan child of a 
friend.”’ 

“The latter circumstance is new to 
me,’’ returned the burgher, slowly bowing 
his head. ‘‘It may explain certain levi- 
ties which have not been without their 
embarrassment. ’Tis five-and-twenty 
years, come August, Master Skimmer, 


auspices. I will not say that the adv pnyt- 
ures might not have, been hettel an- 
aged ; as it is, they are tolérablé. (/ I ‘am 
getting old, and think of closing the risks 
and hazards of life—two or three; or, at 
the most, four or five lucky voyages, must, 
{ think, bring a final settlement between 
ue.’ . 

***T will be made sooner. I believe the 
history of my predecessor was no secret to 
you. The manner in which he was driven 
from the marine of the Stuarts, on account 
of his opposition to tyranny; his refuge, 
with an only daughter, in the colonies ; 
and his final recourse to the free-trade for 
a livelihood, have often been alluded to 
between us.”’ 

“ Hum—I have a good memory for busi- 
ness, Master Skimmer, but I am as for- 
getful as a new-made lord of his pedigree, 
on all matters that should be overlooked. 
I daresay, however, it was as you have 
stated.’’ 

‘You know, that when my protector 
and predecessor abandoned the land, ‘he 
took his all with him upon the water.’’ 

‘He took a wholesome and good going 
schooner, Master Skimmer, with an as- 
sorted freight of chosen tobacco, well 
ballasted with stones off the sea-shore. 
He was no foolish admirer of sea-green 
women and flaunting brigantines. Often 
did the royal cruisers mistake the worthy 
dealer for an industrious fisherman ! ”’ 

‘‘ He had his humors, and I have mine. 
But you forget a part of the freight he 
carried—a part that was not the least 
valuable.’’ | 

‘‘There might have been a bale of mar- 
tens’ furs—for the trade was just getting 
brisk in that article.’’ 

‘““There was a beautiful, an innocent, 
and an affectionate girl—”’ | 

The Alderman made an involuntary 
movement, which nearly hid his counte- 
nance from his companion. 

‘* There was, indeed, a beautiful, and as 
you say, a most warm-hearted girl, in the 
concern !’’ he uttered, in a voice that was 
subdued and hoarse. ‘‘She died, as I 
have heard from thyself, Master Skim- 
mer, in the Italian seas. I never saw the 
father after the last visit of his child to 
this coast.”’ 

‘*She did die among the islands of the 
Mediterranean. But the void she left in 
all the hearts who knew her, was filled in 
time by her—daughter.”’ 

The Alderman started from his chair, 
and looking the freetrader intently and 
anxiously in the face, he slowly repeated 
the word—‘‘ Daughter !”’ 

‘‘T have said it. Eudora is the daugh- 


116 


ter of that injured woman—need I say |} 
who, ie the father ? ”’ 

‘The burgher, groaned, and covering his 
‘\face with his hands, he sank back into his 
chair, shivering convulsively. 

What evidence have I of this?’ he 
at length muttered; ‘‘Hudora is thy 
sister!’’ 

The answer of the freetrader was ac- 
companied by a melancholy smile. 

“You have been deceived. Save the 
brigantine, my being is attached to. noth- 
ing. When my own brave father fell by 
the side of him who protected my youth, 
none of my blood were left. I loved him 
as a father, and he called me son, while 
Eudora was passed upon you as the 
child of a second marriage. But here is 
sufficient evidence of her birth.’’ 

The Alderman took a paper which his 
companion put gravely inte his hand, and 
his eyes ran eagerly over its contents. It 
was a letter to himself from the mother of 
Eudora, written after the birth of the lat- 
ter, and with the endearing’ affection of a 
woman. The love between the young 
merchant and the fair daughter of his 
secret correspondent had been less crimi- 
nal on his part than most similar connec- 
tions. Nothing but the peculiarity of 
their situation, and the real embarrass- 
ment of introducing to the world one 
whose existence was unknown to his 
friends, and their mutual awe of the un- 
fortunate but still proud parent, had pre- 
vented a legal marriage. The simple 
forms of the colony were easy satisfied, 
and there was even some reason to raise @ 
question whether they had not been suffi- 
ciently consulted to render the offspring 
legitimate. As Myndert Van Beverout, 
therefore, read the epistle of her whom he 
had once so truly loved, and whose loss 
had, in more senses than one, been to him 
an irreparable misfortune, since his char- 
acter might have yielded to her gentle 
and healthful influence, his limbs trembled, - 
and his whole frame betrayed the violence 
of extreme agitation. The language of 
the dying woman was kind and free from 
reproach, but was solemn and admonitory. 
She communicated the birth of their child ; 
but she left it to the disposition of her own 
father, while she apprised the author of 
its being of its existence ; and in the event 
of its ever being consigned to his care, she 
earnestly recommended it to his love. The 
close was a leave-taking, in which the 
lingering affections of this life were placed 
in mournful contrast to the hopes of the 
future. . 

‘““Why has this so long been hidden 
from me?’’ demanded the agitated mer- 
chant. ‘‘ Why, O reckless and fearless 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


x 


man! have I been permitted to expose the 
frailties of nature to my own child ?”’ 

The smile of the freetrader was bitter 
and proud. 

“Mr. Van Beverout, we are no dealers 
of the short voyage. Our trade is the 
concern of life; our world, the Water- 
Witch. As we have so little of the 
interests of the land, our philosophy is 
above its weaknesses. The birth of Eu- 
dora was concealed from you at the will 
of her grandfather. It might have been 
resentment—it might have been pride. 
Had it been affection, the girl has that 
to justify the fraud.”’ 

‘And Eudora, herself? Does she—or 
has she long known the truth ?”’ 

‘*But lately. Since the death of our 
common friend, the girl has been solely 
dependent on me for counsel and protec- 
tion. It is now a year since she first 
learned she was not my sister. Until 
then, like you, she supposed us equally 
derived from one who was the parent of 
neither. Necessity has compelled me of 
late to keep her much in the brigantine.” 

“The retribution is righteous !’? groan- 
ed the Alderman. ‘‘ 1 am punished for 
my pusillanimity in the degradation of 
my own child!” | 

The step of the freetrader, as he ad- 
vanced nearer to his companion, was full 
of dignity, and his keen eye glowed with 


the resentment of an offended man. 


‘Alderman Van Beverout,’’ he said, 
with a stern rebuke in his voice, ‘‘ you 
receive your daughter, stainless as was 
her unfortunate mother, when necessity 
compelled him whose being was wrapped 
up in hers to trust her beneath your roof. 
We of the contraband have our own opin- 
ions of right and wrong; and my grati- 
tude, no less than my principles, teaches 
me that the descendant of my benefactor 
is to be protected, not injured. Had I, in’ 
truth, been the brother of Eudora, lan- 
guage and conduct more innocent could 
not have been shown her, than that she 
has both heard and witnessed while 
guarded by my care.”’ 

“From my soul, I thank thee !”’ burst 
from the lips of the Alderman. ‘‘ The 
girl shall be acknowledged ; and with such 
a dowry as I can give, she may yet hope 
for a suitable and honorable marriage.”’ 

“*Thou mayst bestow her on thy favor- 
ite Patroon,’”’ returned the Skimmer, with 
a calm but sad eye. ‘‘She is more than 
worthy of all he can return. The man is 
willing to take her, for he is not ignorant 
of her sex and history. That much I 
thought due to EKudora herself, when 
fortune placed the young man in my- 
power.” 


THE WATER-WITCH. T17 


“Thou art only too honest for this 
wicked world, Master Skimmer! Let me 
see the loving pair, and bestow my bless- 
ing on the instant !”’ 

The freetrader turned slowly away, and, 

opening a door, he motioned for those 
within to enter. Alida instantly entered, 
leading the counterfeit Seadrift, clad in 
the proper attire of her sex. Although 
the burgher had often seen the supposed 
sister of the Skimmer in her female habili- 
ments, she never before had struck him 
as being of so rare beauty as at that mo- 
ment. The silken whiskers had been re- 
moved and in their places were burning 
cheeks, that were rather enriched than 
discolored by the warm touches of the 
sun. ‘The dark glossy ringlets, that were 
no longer artfully converted to the pur- 
poses of a masquerade, fell naturally in 
curls about the temples and brows, shad- 
. ing a countenance which in general was 
playfully arch, though at that moment it 
was shadowed by reflection and feeling. 
It is seldom that two such beings are seen 
together as those who now-knelt at the 
feet of the merchant. Inthe breast of the 
latter the accustomed and lasting love of 
the uncle and protector appeared, for an 
instant, to struggle with the new-born 
affection of a parent. Nature was too 
- strong for even his blunted and perverted 
sentiment ; and calling his child aloud by 
name, the selfish and. calculating Alder- 
man sank upon the neck of Kudora and 
wept. 
It would have been difficult to trace 
the emotions of the stern but observ- 
ant freetrader, as he watched the prog- 
ress of this scene. Distrust, uneasiness, 
and finally, melancholy, were in his eye. 
With the latter expression predominant, 
he quitted the room, like one who felt a 
stranger had no right to witness emotions 
fe) sacred. 

Two hours later, and the principal per- 
sonages of the narrative were assembled 
on the margin of the Cove, beneath the 
shade of an oak that seemed coeval with 
the continent. The brigantine was aweigh; 
and, under a light show of canvas, she 
was making easy stretches in the little 
basin, resembling, by the ease and grace 
of her movements, some beautiful swan 
sailmg up and down in the enjoyment of 
its instinct. <A boat had just touched the 
shore, and the Skimmer of the Seas stood 
near, stretching out a hand to aid the boy 
Zephyr to land. 

‘We subjects of the elements are slaves 
to superstition,’? he said, when the light 
foot of the child touched the ground. “It 
is the consequence of lives which ceaseless- 
ly present dangers superior to our powers. 


For many years have I believed that some 
great good, or some greater evil, would 
accompany the first visit of} plpiss * yj, to 
the land. For the first time His to th + Bee 

stands on solid earth. L await the| Tull: 
ment of the augury.”’ ) 

** It will be happy,’’ returned Ludlow ; 
‘Alida and Eudora will instruct him in 
the opinions of this simple and fortunate 
country, and he seemeth one likely to do 
early credit to his schooling.”’ 

‘7 fear the boy will reeret the lessons 
of the sea-green lady! Captain Ludlow, 
there is yet a duty to perform, which, asa 
man of more feeling than you may be dis- 
posed to acknowledge, I cannot neglect. 
I have understood that you are accepted 
by la belle Barberie ? ”’ 

“Such is my happiness.”’ 

“Sir, in dispensing with explanation of 
the past, you have shown a noble confi- 
dence, that merits a return. When Icame 
upon this coast, it was with the determi- 
nation of establishing the claims of Kudora 
to the protection and fortune of her father. 
If 1 had mistrusted the influence and hos- 
tility of one so placed, and so gifted to 
persuade as this lady, vou will remember 
it was before acquaintance had enabled 
me to estimate more than her beauty. 
She was seized in her pavilion by my 
agency, and transported as a captive to 
the brigantine.”’ 

‘‘T had believed her acquainted with the 
history of her cousin, and willing to aid 
in some fantasy which was to lead to the 


present happy restor ation of the latter to 


her natural friends.’ 

‘* You did her disinterestedness no more 
than justice. As some atonement for the 
personal wrong, and as the speediest and 
surest means of appeasing her alarm, I 
made my captive acquainted with the 
facts. Eudora then heard, also for the 
first time, the history of her origin. The 
evidence was irresistible, and we found a 
devoted friend where we had expected a 
rival.’’ 

“‘T knew that Alida could not prove less 
generous !’’ cried the admiring Ludlow, 
raising the hand of the blushing girl to 
his lips. ‘‘The loss of fortune is a gain, 
by showing her true character !’’ 

«Hist—hist !” interrupted the Alder- 
man; ‘‘there is little need to proclaim a 
loss of any kind. What must be done in 
the way of natural justice, will doubtless 
be submitted to; but why let all in the 
colony know how much or how little is 
given with a bride ? ”’ 

«The loss of fortune will be amply 
met,’’ returned the freetrader. ‘These 
bags contain gold. The dowry of my 
charge is ready at a moment’s warning, 


718 


whenever she shall make known her 
choice.’’. 
« Sudcess and prudence !”’ exclaimed the 
purg her. «§“Thervé is no less than a most 
{\\¢commendable forethought in thy pro- 
vision, Master Skimmer; and whatever 
may be the opinion of the Exchequer 
Judges of thy punctuality and credit, it 
is mine that there are less responsible men 
about,the Bank of England itself? This 
money is, no doubt, that which the girl 
can lawfully claim in right of her late 
grandfather ! ” 
vine Kaa bus 
“‘T take this to be a favorable moment 
to speak plainly on a subject which is very 
near my heart, and which may as well be 
broached under such favorable auspices as 
under any other. I understand, Mr. Van 
Staats, that, on a farther examination of 
your sentiments toward an old friend, you 
are of opinion that a closer alliance than 
the one we had contemplated will most 
conduce to your happiness ? ”’ 
‘*7 will acknowledge that the coldness 
of la belle Barberie has damped my own 
warmth,’’ returned the Patroon of Kinder- 
hook, who rarely delivered himself of more, 
at a time, than the occasion required. 
““And, furthermore, I have been told, 
sir, that an intimacy of a fortnight has 
given you reason to fix your affections 
on my daughter, whose beauty is heredi- 
tary, and whose fortune is not likely 
to be diminished by this act of justice 
on the part of that upright and gallant 
mariner.”’ 
“‘To be received into the favor of your 
family, Mr. Van Beverout, would leave 
me little to desire in this life.”’ 
‘* And as for the other world, I never 
heard of a Patroon of Kinderhook who 
did not leave us with some comfortable 
hopes for the future; as in reason they 
should, since few families in the colonies 
have done more for the support of religion 
than they. They gave largely to the 
Dutch churches in Manhattan; they have 
actually built, with their own means, three 
very pretty brick edifices on the Manor, 
each having its Flemish steeple and suit- 
able weathercocks, besides having done 
something handsome toward the vener- 
able structure in Albany. Eudora, my 
child, this gentleman isa particular friend, 
and as such I can presume to recommend 
him to thy favor. You are not absolutely 
strangers ; but, in order that you may 
have every occasion to decide impartially, 
you will remain here together for a month 
longer, which will enable you to choose 
without distraction and confusion. More 
than this, for the present, it is unneces- 
sary to say; for it is my practice to leave 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


~ 


all matters of this magnitude entirely to 
Providence.”’ 

The daughter, on whose speaking face 
the color went and came, like lights chang- 
ing in an Italian sky, continued silent. 

‘You have happily put aside the cur- 
tain which concealed a mystery that ro 
longer gave me uneasiness,”’ interrupted 
Ludlow, addressing the freetrader. “ Can 
you do more, and say whence came this 
letter ? ’’ 

The dark eye of Eudora instantly 
lighted. She looked at the Skimmer of 
the Seas, and laughed. 7 

“?Twas another of those womanly arti- 
fices which have been practiced in my 
brigantine. It was thought that a young 
commander of a royal cruiser would be 
less apt to watch our movements, were 
his mind bent on the discovery of such a 
correspondent. ”’ 

‘‘“And the trick has been practieed 
before ? ”’ 

‘*T confess it. But I can linger no long- 
er. In a few minutes, the tide will turn, 
and the inlet become impassable. Hu- 
dora, we must decide on the fortunes of 
this.child. Shall he to the ocean again ? 
—or shall he remain, to vary his life with 
a landsman’s chances ? ”’ 

‘*Who and what is the boy ?”’ gravely 
demanded the Alderman. | 

‘One dear to both,’’ rejoined the free- 
trader. ‘‘ His father was my nearest 
friend, and his mother long watched the 
youth of Eudora. Until this moment, 
he has been our mutual care; he must 
now choose between us.”’ . 

“‘ He will not quit me!’ hastily inter- 
rupted the alarmed Eudora; ‘‘thou art 
my adopted son, and none can guide thy 
young mind like me. Thou hast need of 
woman’s tenderness, Zephyr, and wilt not 
quit me ?”’ 

‘* Let the child be the arbiter of his own 
fate. Iam credulous on the point of fort- 
une, which is, at least, a happy belief for 
the contraband.’’ | 

‘*Then let him speak. Wilt remain 
here, amid these smiling fields, to ramble « 
among yonder gay and sweetly-scented 
flowers ?—or wilt thou back to the 
water, where all is vacant and without 
change ?.”’ . 

The boy looked wistfully into her anxious 
eye, then he bent his own hesitating 
glance onthe calm features of the free- 
trader. 

‘““We can put to sea,’ he said; ‘‘and 
when we make the homeward passage 
again, there will be many curious things 
for thee, Eudora !”’ 

‘But this may be the last oppor- 
tunity to know the land of thy ances- 


THE WATER-WITCH. — 719 


tors. Remember how terrible is the 
ocean in its anger, and how often the 
brigantine has been in danger of ship- 
wreck !’’ . . 

‘* Nay, that is womanish! I have been 
on the royal-yard in the squalls, and it 
never seemed to me that there was 
danger.”’ 

‘<“Thou hast the unconsciousness and 
reliance of a ship-boy! But those who are 
older know that the life of a sailor is one 
of constant and imminent hazard. Thou 
hast been among the islands in the 
hurricane, and seen the power of the 
elements ! ”’ | 

<¢T was in the hurricane, and so was the 
brigantine; and there you see how taut 
and neat she is aloft, as if nothing had 
happened !”’ 

‘« And you saw us yesterday floating on 


the open sea, while a few ill-fastened spars. 


kept us from going into its depths !”” 

‘The spars floated, and you were not 
drowned ; else 1 should have wept bitterly, 
Eudora.”’ 

‘But thou wilt go deeper into the coun- 
try, and see more of its beauties —its 
rivers and its mountains—its caverns and 
‘its woods. Here all is change, while the 
water is ever the same.”’ 

‘Surely, Eudora, you forget strangely ! 
Here it is all America. This mountain is 
America; yonder land across the bay is 
America, and the anchorage of yesterday 
was America. When we shall run off the 
coast, next land-fall will be England, or 
Holland, or Africa; and with a good 
wind, we may run down the shore of two 
or three countries in a day.”’ 

«© And on them, too, thoughtless boy ! 
If you lose this occasion, thy life will be 
wedded to hazard !”’ . 

‘‘Warewell, Eudora !”’ said the urchin, 
raising his mouth to give and receive the 
parting kiss. . 

‘‘Hudora, adieu! ’’ added a deep and 
melancholy voice at her elbow. ‘I can 
delay no longer, for my people show symp- 
toms of impatience. Should this be the 
last of my voyages to the coast, thou wilt 
~ not forget those with whom thou hast so 
long shared good and evil !”’ 

«Not yet—not yet—you will not quit 
us yet! Leave me the boy—leave ime 
some other memorial of the past besides 
this pain !”’ , 

“My hour has come. The wind is 
freshening, and I trifle with its favor. 
"Twill be better for thy happiness that 
none know the history of the brigantine ; a 
few hours will draw a hundred curious 
_eyes from the town upon us.”’ 

«What care I for their opinions ?—thou 
wilt not—cannot—leave me yet !”’ 


‘‘Gladly would I stay, Eudora, but a 
seaman’s home is his ship. Too much 
precious time is already walsbedl/ Once 
more, adieu ! ”’ uray he 

The dark eye of the girl BaAncbd wildly() | ¢ 
about her. It seemed as if, in that one — 
quick and hurried look, it drank in all 
that belonged to the land and its enjoy- 
ments. 

‘‘ Whither go you? ’”’ she asked, scarce 
suffering her voice to rise above a whisper. 
‘«‘Whither do you sail, and when do -you 
return ?”’ 

‘“T follow fortune. My return may be 
distant—never! Adieu, then, EKudora— 
he happy with the friends that Providence 
hath given thee ! ”’ 

The wandering eyes of the girl of the 
sea became still more unsettled. She 
grasped the hand of the freetrader in 
both her own, and wrung it in an im- 
passioned and unconscious manner. Then 
releasing her hold, she opened wide her 
arms, and cast them convulsively about 
his unmoved and unyielding form. 

«We will go together! I am thine, 
and thine only !”’ 

‘<*Thou knowest not what thou sayest, 
Eudora!’’ gasped the Skimmer. ‘‘ Thou 
hast a father—friend—husband—”’ 

«<< Away, away !”’ cried the frantic girl, 
waving her hand wildly toward Alida and 
the Patroon, who advanced as if-hurrying 
to rescue her from a precipice. ‘‘ Thine 
and thine only !”’ 

The smuggler released himself from her 
frenzied grasp, and, with the strength of 
a giant, he held the struggling girl at the 
length of his arm, while he endeavored to 
control the tempest of passion that strug- 
gled within him. 

«Think, for one moment, think!” he 
said. ‘*Thou wouldst follow an outcast 
an outlaw—one hunted and condemned 
of men! ”’ 

‘‘Thine, and thine only! ”’ 

‘With a ship for a dwelling—the tem- 
pestuous ocean for a world !”’ 

‘Thy world is my world !—thy home 
my home—thy danger, mine !”’ 

The shout which burst out of the chest 
of the Skimmer of the Seas was one of un- 
controllable exultation. 

‘«<Thou art mine!” he cried. ‘‘ Before 
a tie like this, the claim of a father is 
forgotten! Burgher, adieu! I will deal 
by thy daughter more honestly than 
thou didst deal by‘ my _ benefactor’s 
Chale 

Eudora was lifted from the ground as if 
her weight had been that of a feather; 
and, spite of asudden and impetuous move- 
ment of Ludlow and the Patroon, she was 
borne to the boat. In amoment the bark 


720 


WORKS OF FENIMORE COOPER. 


~ 


was afloat, with the gallant boy tossing | Then the low structure vanished, and sail 


his sea-cap upward in triumph. The 
brigantiné, \as if conscious of what had 
passed, wore round \like a whirling char- 
\iob; and, ere the spectators had recovered 
~ from their confusion and wonder, the boat 
was hanging at the tackles. The free- 
trader was seen on the poop, with an arm 
cast about the form, of Eudora, waving a 
hand to the motionless group on the shore, 
while the still half-unconscious girl of the 
ocean sighed her faint adieus to Alida and 
her father. 

The vessel glided through the inlet, 
and was immediately rocking on the bil- 
lows of the surf. Then, taking the full 
weight of the southern breeze, the fine and 
attenuated spars bent to its force, and the 
progress of the swift-moving craft was 
apparent by the bubbling line of its 
wake. 

The day had begun to decline before 
Alida and Ludlow quitted the lawn of the 
Lust in Rust. For the first hour, the 
dark hull of the brigantine was seen 
Supporting the moving cloud of canvas. 


after sail settled into the water, until 
nothing was visible but a speck of glitter- 
ing white. It lingered fora minute, and 
was swallowed in the void. 

The nuptials of Ludlow and Alida were 
touched with a shade of melancholy. 
Natural affection in one, and professional 
Sympathy in the other, had given them a 
deep and lasting interest in the fate of the 
adventurers. 

Years passed away, and months were 
spent at the villa, in which a thousand 
anxious looks were cast upon the ocean. 
Kach morning, during the early months 
of summer, did Alida hasten to the win- 
dows of her pavilion, in the hope of see- 
ing the vessel of the contraband anchored 
in the Cove; but always without success. 
It never returned; and though the re- 
buked and disappointed Alderman caused 
many ‘secret inquiries to be made along 
the whole extent of the American coast, 
he never again heard of the renowned 
SKIMMEE OF THE SEAs, or of his matchless 
WATER- WITCH. 


THE END OF VOLUME FOUR. 


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